Deadliest Catch.

If the blame game was to be played, Ainsley decided to place the first blame on her sister. Had her sister not forced her to tag along that cool September night, she would never have met him and none of this would have conspired. It was Celia’s pleading that landed Ainsley in the first of many messes to come. Ainsley recalled that specific night vividly, every detail still fresh in her mind as if it just occurred.



The concert was loud. The music pulsated through everyone’s veins, replacing blood with adrenaline. The lights were dim all around. The stage was propped on a platform, above all. The band, some odd screaming metal act, came on and the crowd went berserk. Well, more so than previously.

Ainsley Lynden was honestly scared of where she stood. There were sweating bodies being pushed about and the circle pit forming behind her threatened to pull her in as if it were a whirlpool. To her right, Celia was having the time of her life, screaming out lyrics and jumping on the balls of her boot-clad feet. Ainsley decided to mirror Celia’s movement and began moving along with the music so it was not too obvious that she did not belong.

The act was a dreadfully awful one. The man did not sing, he screamed into his microphone. Tattoos were littered across the man’s body like trash was littered across London at night. His hair was some form of blond, the light obscuring the actual shade. He jumped around the stage and Ainsley was mesmerized by his dance. He would be at one corner at one second and then he would be hanging off of the supports that propped the stage up another. He looked like an angel, one of the darker kinds.

Celia had insisted Ainsley leave her room to come to this concert. Their parents said that Celia could only go if she brought responsible Ainsley along. Between the two of them, Ainsley was the calm, collected one while Celia was the impulsive, dangerous one. While one would spend weekends surrounded by names of people who were long dead and their ideas eternalized through the written word the other would spend it surrounded by plastic red cups and drunken people.

Ainsley knew how desperately Celia wanted to go so she had agreed. It was Ainsley’s inability to say no that had her standing in the middle of a venue with a tattooed man screaming at the top of his lungs, not enjoying herself in the least. The band finished their first song and the man spoke.

“Ello, we’re Dead on Arrival. How are you lot doing today?”

The venue responded with an ear-splitting scream that caused a cheeky smirk to form on the man’s face.

“Well, that’s good. Now, I want everyone moving in this room. Think you can do that for me? Make me a happy man?”

More screams. Ainsley was sure she heard a girl scream “I’ll make you very happy!” She could hear the sexual innuendo in those words and let out a grimace of distaste.

“Well, come on then! Move!”

The opening chords to their next song resonated through the venue and if Ainsley thought the crowd were moving before she was mistaken. They were at a snail pace in comparison to what they were doing now. People thrashed, the circle behind her became more fluid and even quicker and the screams were raised an octave. Ainsley told Celia that she needed to go away and she would see her after the show. A headache was coming on.

“I’ll meet you at their merch table when I’m done.” Celia screamed over the crowd’s screams.

“Merch table?” Ainsley asked not knowing what she was talking about.

“Where all their stuff is sold.”

Ainsley nodded her head before pushing through the mass of bodies, a sea of black clothing and grungy looking teenagers, and walking to the closest washroom.
She looked through her purse for some painkillers; her headache was getting worse and worse. She found the pills and eyed the sink and its water with distaste heading out to find a vending machine.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you know where I could find water?” Ainsley asked a tall boy with a hat on his head and a bottle of beer in his hand.

“Sir?” He repeated as if those words were foreign. “Water? There isn’t much of that here, love. I’ve got some alcohol though.” He added with a smile.

“No thank you. I’ll just find the water myself.” She said before turning to leave.

“Wait, love. I was only joking. I think there’s water at our table. Hunter doesn’t like it when there isn’t water after he’s screamed his heart out.” He said leading them to Dead on Arrival’s table.

Hunter. So, that was the name of the blonde tattooed man. It seemed to fit. He looked like a hunter. Not the literal kind but he hunted on people’s adrenaline and emotions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m Adam, by the way.” The tall stranger told her.

“Ainsley.”

“Lovely name for a lovely girl.”

At that point, Ainsley knew it was the alcohol speaking because no one said things like that to her. That sort of talk was reserved for Celia.

“Here you are, love. So tell me, what’s a sweet, innocent-looking girl like you doing in a place like this?” He asked while handing her the bottle.

Ainsley did not protest his words one bit. She wasn’t supposed to be here and it was obvious to others as well.

“My sister really likes the band and she was only allowed to come if I came with her.” She said gesturing to the Dead on Arrival banner behind the table.

“Ah, you’re the older, more responsible one.”

“She’s older by three minutes but I suppose I am the more responsible one.” Ainsley said with a smile.

The remainder of the concert was spent with Celia screaming her heart out while Ainsley made conversation with Adam. As people started to walk toward the table, Adam offered her a seat behind the table.

“I’d rather a girl like you not get trampled by the wave of crazy, adrenaline-fused teenagers coming out now.” Adam said with a laugh.

Celia was beyond surprised to find her quiet, innocent little sister talking to a tall stranger while he took money from a girl and handed her a t-shirt. Ainsley made friends with the band’s merch guy. Celia smiled. Not bad, sis, not bad at all.

When Celia walked over to Adam and Ainsley, he saw the immediate difference between the twins. While they both had black hair and blue eyes, Ainsley’s hair fell to her waist in a straight swoop while Celia’s was cut in short, choppy layers. One wore a dress and the other wore tight black pants. One wore green flats while the other wore black leather boots. One had barely a touch make up on while the other had her blue eyes lined in black and bright red lipstick painted on her lips.

“Ainsley, you’ve made a friend.” Celia said with a smile as she went to stand in front of her sister.

Ainsley could merely nod her head because before she could open her mouth, Celia was off. She had spotted the bassist.

Ainsley watched the band come around and sign tickets and take pictures with fans. Hunter walked over to the merch table and looked at Adam and Ainsley.

“You found yourself a nice lay for tonight. Not gonna lie though, it’s not your usual taste.” Hunter said eying Ainsley’s white dress.

“Ainsley is someone I just met. No need to be so rude in front of the girl.”

Hunter locked his eyes on Ainsley. His hazel eyes sparkled with something, something dangerous. Ainsley did not like the look her was giving her, as if he was undressing her with his eyes. He was making her uncomfortable.

“Ainsley! You can’t just find the person I’ve been looking for and not tell me.” Celia said walking over to the three of them.

“I’m Celia. You guys are brilliant.” She said to Hunter giving him a wide, flirtatious smile. Ainsley rolled her eyes. Her sister ought to have some class. Hunter was the last person she would ever want to be with.

“Thanks. And you?” Hunter said turning to Ainsley. “What did you think?”

“You guys are talented.” She said keeping her opinion on their bad music to herself. Her mother always said if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything.

“You’re lying.” Hunter said.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t like us one bit. You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re too polite and well-mannered to say otherwise.”

Ainsley gave Hunter a slight glare before turning to Adam.

“It was wonderful meeting you.”

“You too, love.” He said and after exchanging numbers, Ainsley walked away from Hunter and the crowd of people. Celia could find her in the car if she needed to. Hunter was not a pleasant person to be around and she hoped she would never see him again. His look made her skin crawl.

Sadly, Ainsley rarely got what she wanted and often received what she so desperately needed. However, who’s to say Hunter Sheridan was what Ainsley Lynden needed. If anything, he was far from it.