The City Lights

After the incident with Tré, I began to realize that there was a mild attraction between us both. But I knew that I probably stood no chance of ever being with a man as such; to begin with, he wasn’t even my type. He was more laid back, as opposed to I; I was more uptight.

The small blonde Mohawk suited him, the nearly visible line of eyeliner dripped down with the perspiration that fell off of his face. His most striking features were his crystal blue eyes. They gleamed beautifully against the light of the room.

Like I mentioned before, completely out of my league and certainly not the guy I would regularly go for. To be honest, I think my reaction should’ve been fear, I know some of the people around here must’ve been scared of him in some manner. But for some odd reason, I felt comfortable around him.

I looked down at my watch, checking the time. It was precisely half past nine; I begin to think that I should’ve been heading home. I still hadn’t received my dinner yet (it has almost been a half an hour since I had ordered it).

I turned to look back at the door of the kitchen, just as the thought left my mind the waiter came back with her order.

”Your order, Mam” he said placing the plate of fries next to the steaming slice of pizza.

“Thank you”

I smiled at the waiter and reassured my order was just as I had demanded. With that being done, I reached for the pizza and began to bite lightly at it. It seemed like Tré was enjoying watching me eat.

After only a few bites of the pizza I began to feel full. I figured it was the grease of the pizza that had made my stomach so heavy. I put the pizza back on its plate and took a sip of water.

“Full already?” asked Tré.

I nodded; pushing the plate towards him.

“Nah uh.” he said pushing the plate back towards me.

We both laugh at each other. Soon after our little giggle fit we began to discuss some other matters. I figured; why not get to know him better?

“So, you from around here?” he asked.

“No, I actually moved here from Colorado,” I replied.

“Really?” he asked, quite surprised at the matter.

I nodded my head at him as he gave me a confused look. He looked awfully adorable when he was confused. Almost a close resemblance to my own brother, George; they’re completely opposed personalities though.

“Well actually my family and I are originally from England,” I said.

Tré raised his brow, struck at the fact that he hadn’t yet recognized the accent I carried. If I do say so myself, my accent was severely thick. But I embraced it, I just so happened to be very proud of my country.

Tré smirked at me; he was obviously interested in the fact that I wasn’t actually from America. Just like I was fascinated by the fact that he was indeed an American. Even though for half of my life I had been surrounded by Americans, I found this particular one a little more interesting.

“You do sort of have a thick accent,” he said mocking me.

“Oh, shut up…It’s not as thick as anyone else’s!” I retorted

“Oh don’t be absurd Cynthia, all of us here have no accent” he said trying to imitate my accent.

I glared at him, but there was no way I could stay serious with this man. It’s like his sarcasm was such a huge part of our conversation; of his presence, his personality. He was the guy I had dreamt about but I’d never pictured him like he was.

He was much more punk rocker. Like someone you would see on the cover of Rolling Stone, or another music magazine. Almost like his life was completely devoted to music, he breathed it, he drank it, and he devoured it.

I on the other hand was much different than most girls here, or at least I’ve noticed- so far. Shaking my thoughts away I noticed that my pizza was gone and half of the crowd was gone. It was just us and the staff of the restaurant.

“Wow, I didn’t notice time flew by that fast” I said aloud.