‹ Prequel: Smirt
Status: finished.

Eclat

Four.

Grocery shopping!

“You better not make this cart crash into anything or anyone!” squealed Ellie as I saw a blur pass by, the sound of Chris’ laugh, jovial and light as air. “Sorry! He’s not licensed to operate this thing! Watch out for the---”

There was a high-pitched scream, along with the sound of a collision.

I ran towards the source of the noise. Ellie was sprawled on the floor, thankfully still in one piece, limbs attached to their anatomically correct places. She seemed dazed, not a trace of concern for Christofer (or herself, for that matter) in her expression. Meanwhile, Chris had recovered from the initial shock of the accident. His hand was outstretched and ready to propel Ellie to her feet.

“Ellie, c’mon, take my hand. You’re causing a scene.”

Chris was on the verge of begging her to get up. A few people passing by stared, either because they were mildly curious or recognized Chris. A small handful of kids---around the age of thirteen or fourteen---were about to approach him and ask for an autograph and photo op at one point. I gave one of the girls an apologetic look, whispering that it wasn’t the right time, asking if they were going to the show later. The girl I’d asked nodded, too stupefied to say a word as Ellie slowly stood up and picked up the cart before gliding away. Chris trailed after her.

“Was that really Christofer Drew?” Another girl in the group managed to ask this, face upturned to me for confirmation. “And was that his girlfriend or something?” It was such a simple question, the second one, but my stomach still twisted into knots at the misunderstanding. You little git, of course that’s not his girlfriend.

I wasn’t even bothered by the girl’s question; I was annoyed by the fact that people assumed they were together. They weren’t, for god’s sake!

“Yeah, that’s him. The one and only,” I shrugged, feigning indifference. “Oh, and that’s not his girlfriend, by the way.” Before they could notice the way my facial expression changed as I said the dreaded “g” word, I walked away to find the two. Then I thought better of it, turning in the opposite direction, straight out of the store.

The parking lot was virtually empty, save for a few people smoking outside. They leaned on the faux brick wall, the bored “smoker” look masking any emotion you could think of. One was tall, lean and had a slightly crooked nose. Other than that small detail, he was fairly good looking. Blond hair framed his face, his eyes a muted grey. The girl beside him had short light brunette hair, her hairstyle similar to mine. She had a golden tan and freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. The last was slightly taller than the girl, maybe her brother, because he had freckles on his shoulders. His hair had fading streaks of purple in it.

The cigarette was practically shoved into my face as I contemplated striking up a conversation with one of them. “You were going to bum a smoke from me right?” Blondie gave me a once over with a nod. As if he could tell if I smoked or not.

“I’m trying to cut back on the habit,” I muttered, “and I think I’ll be leaving soon. . .” I threw a cautionary look behind me but nobody was there. “. . .or not.”

“I’m Brent,” Blondie said smoothly, “are you from around here? Yeah, anyway, those two are Reese and Dean.” He leaned a little closer. “Are you sure you don’t want a smoke? It’ll make you relax, Ms. Uptight.”

Blondie was starting to test my patience. “I don’t want one. Can you take a step back? I need some room to breathe, Brent.” He took two steps back, palms facing me.

“Hey, I wasn’t tryin’ to be a creep, I swear. . .” he said with a groan, taking out a crumpled sheet of paper. “I’m a club promoter, alright? I thought maybe you or your friends would be interested.”

I took the flyer with reluctance, resisting the urge to smooth it out thoroughly. Feral, the club that releases your inner animal. Call 555-CLUB for additional information. One free drink per person every night (excluding certain brands / specials of the night).

“Will you be there?” I questioned, slipping the flyer into the pocket of my jeans.

“He’ll be busy bussing tables while Reese does her thing,” Dean responded with a half smirk, “you should seriously consider going tonight. It’s open mic night.” I instantly thought of Chris. An open mic night before his show tomorrow? Would he do it?

“The prize is eight hundred dollars,” Reese said, as if she could read my mind.

As soon as Chris and Ellie come out of the store, we’re going to Feral. It’s time to have fun. . .and win some prize money.
♠ ♠ ♠
Mhmkay, I already vowed not to apologize profusely for not updating.
BUT I had so much going on. Friends, exams, summertime preparation. . .

I'm actually on vacae right now but I still wrote this chapter because
my creativity is returning full speed. (: Time to pick up the slack.
I hope nobody's given up on this story yet. It's just getting started.

Thoughts? Opinions? Feedback is always appreciated.
Thank you. <3