Promise Me This; Never Let Go

It had been awhile since I've stepped foot into the States. I didn't like the foreign countries too much, but I definitely, did not miss these crowds of people! Stupid New York City is so damn crowded! These people need to fucking move already! I sniffed through my nose and pushed my way between a woman and man that thought it would be all right to walk slower than a snail and take up the whole damn sidewalk.

After that obstacle course, I walked around Times Square a little more. I hadn't been here in a long time, so I was going to take advantage of this. It would be nicer if Rafael could come, but he was busy in press conferences. I personally don't enjoy standing in the background as dozens of reporters ask him the same questions, but phrased differently.

That left me the option of taking a taxi to New York City and then doing whatever I felt like. I needed a new pair of sneakers. I needed to find a birthday present for him. I came in luck with an elegant yet masculine wristwatch that would compliment any tuxedo perfectly. To say I felt accomplished would be the right thing to say!

I walked across the street as the light turned green, pushing my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. I needed to buy a Starbucks caramel frappuccino before I hopped onto another taxi to get back to Flushing Meadows.

Passing by, a huge man almost took out my left shoulder when I walked past him. I did a 180 before catching my breath and turning my head around. I turned my head to see a massive man wearing a red shirt. "Watch where you’re going!" I screeched before continuing on my way. I didn't need that stupid oaf to ruin my day.

A few hours later, I was back in Flushing Meadows. Rafael was stretching to ready himself for his next match. He would play against James Blake today, that roaring American. I've talked to James on a few occasions. He's a very nice and modest man. That man changed to a power hitter once he touched the tennis court. There was no doubt that today would make a great match.

"Belleza!" Rafael called. I rolled my eyes and leaned over the railing. "Could you please get my Gatorade from the hotel room? I forgot it and I need it for today."

I left without a response. He always made special energy drunks for his matches. No, steroids were not secretly in his drinks. He added his mix of proteins to ensure that he could use his energy to the best of his ability.

When I found the stack of special Gatorade bottles in the fridge in our penthouse suite, I eagerly ran out the room and hopped onto the elevator. I always wondered why they played that cheesy elevator music while waiting passengers wanted to get to their desired floor already. The conclusion I came up with, they wanted you to stop being fat and take the stairs.

It was true! These elevators weigh a ton; I can understand that. However, that didn't mean they should go at the speed of 0.001 miles per hour! Maybe I should've taken the stairs. Then again, our hotel room is on the 100th floor. Nah, I'm not beat to run down 100 flights of stairs today.

The elevator made a monotonous Ding! sound as it stopped at the lobby floor. I walked out and began taking long strides to the tennis arena. I enjoyed the fact that they built this hotel so right next to it was all the important tennis necessities. It made it easier for me.

I walked past the lobby couches where a small group of middle-aged women were busily chatting and squealing. Things went in extreme slow-mo in the next second. One of the women pointed at me and screamed before the whole bunch of them rushed towards me with glorious smiles on their faces. Gee, I'm not scared at all.

When those grins never left their smiles, I felt the need to say something to get them off my back. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh!" the woman closest to me uttered. "You're prettier in person and your voice is so angelic!"

"Thank you," I mumbled, feeling weird already.

"Do you, do you think we could spend some time together here in the lobby after your husband's tennis match of course. All of us saved our money to fly over here to meet you."

Who does that? Seriously, I'm not famous at all! They should all want to meet Rafael, not me. It'd be funny if I suddenly develop a random fan base. Aw, I hope not. That would be a waste of time. Still, I'll entertain these ladies. They did spend all their money to see me.

"I will definitely spend time with you all. You can ask anyone here, they'll be able to tell you where I am. Excuse me, but I have to get to his match before it begins."

"Toodles!"

They were lovely, a bit on the crazy side, but lovely. I couldn't help but to laugh at their dedication.

Past the lobby chairs was another sight I didn't think I would see. The man I bumped into in New York City was standing all alone, checking his phone. I know I wasn't making a mistake of the person because he wore the exact same red t-shirt he wore when I collided into him. What's more, the back of his head looked identical to the guy I bumped into.

Oh, this is wonderful! I can force him to apologize! There's no doubt I'll be late to Rafael's match, but at least it would be worth it. I need to teach this rude person his place.

"You!" I called. As if on cue, he turned around with a puzzled look on his face. I walked straight up to him until he looked down on me and took off his shades. "Matty?"