Lightening

I paced the streets of Chicago, breathing in the cold air and smiling. The immense city made me feel so small and I found it strangely comforting. Just as I was getting lost in the sea of strange faces, I saw one that looked pretty familiar. Upon further inspection, I decided that this face belonged to Kendall Schmidt of Big Time Rush. I stared for a moment, wondering whether or not I should acknowledge him. After a brief self-to-self pep talk, I opted to go for it. Turning on my heel, I increased my pace a bit in an attempt to catch up. I gave him a small tap on the shoulder and swallowed my nerves knowing that there was no going back now.

“Do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar,” I spoke as coolly as I could manage, flashing him a small smile. He turned, giving me a bit of a cocky grin.

“Well, I mean, I am in a band,” he replied, subtly nudging me toward the grand realization that would inevitably lead to squealing, flailing, and asking him to “sign my grocery list or something and could I please get a picture because oh my god, my friends are never gonna believe this!”

“No, that’s not what I’m thinking of. What was it again? Oh, yeah! Phil of the Future! You’re the ‘Go long!’ guy!” I said excitedly. He gave a hesitant smile.

“Yeah. That’s me… the ‘Go long!’ guy,” he muttered as if he’d been slightly offended. I laughed and he shot me a confused glance.

“I was just kidding. I’m actually a bit of a Big Time Rush fan. I just felt like messing with you,” I explained. At this, he laughed and this time it was genuine.

“You actually got me there for a minute. Well played,” he said. I shrugged and laughed with him.

“So, what brings you here to Chicago without the rest of the band?” I asked, deciding to venture further.

“Visiting my brother,” he answered, “It’s been almost a year since we last saw each other. We’re playing a show nearby tomorrow, so I figured why not? And here I am.”

“That must be pretty rough,” I commented. He nodded.

“Yeah, but it really helps you appreciate what you’ve got, you know? Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that jazz,” he said. I took a moment to let what he’d said sink in when I looked up to see him giving me a curious look.

“So are you from around here?” He questioned. I stood there for a moment, slightly shocked that a pop star of substantial status was making an effort to keep up a conversation with little ol’ me.

“I’m not,” I finally replied, “My friend moved to Chicago for college a couple years ago, so I’m just here for a visit. She’s in class until four, so I figured I’d do a bit of adventuring on my own until then.”

“I’m on a solo adventure as well. My brother works until five,” he began, only to be cut off by the ringing of his cell phone.

“Speak of the devil,” he chuckled as he answered. The conversation was brief, but Kendall looked slightly disappointed as he hung up.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. He scrunched his face up, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“He has to work late, so dinner’s been cancelled,” he replied. I frowned.

“Well, that’s no good,” I said as he nodded in agreement.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered. I suddenly had an idea.

“So I know we’ve only known each other for a grand total of five aimlessly-walked city blocks, but my friend is having a little party tonight. Would you like to to come? It may prove to be a bit more exciting than just waiting for your brother to get off,” I suggested. He mulled it over for a few moments before he answered.

“You make a valid point. I’m in,” he said with a charming, dimpled grin, “But how do we occupy ourselves until then? You know, seeing as we’ve both been left out here on our own.”

“How does one even ask such a question in a city with a Starbucks on every corner?” I shot back without a moment’s hesitation, stopping in front of the aforementioned coffee franchise. Kendall opened the door, politely gesturing for me to go before him. I smiled and obliged.

We ordered our respective drinks, Kendall refusing, like a total gentleman, to let me pay for my own. He led the way to a table near the back where we sat down and removed our heavy jackets, slowly sipping our unnecessarily expensive beverages.

“So, if you’re not from Chicago,” he began after a few moments of silence, “Then where are you from?”

“Cincinnati, Ohio. Home of the Bengals who I don’t watch, Skyline chili which I don’t eat, and a world-famous zoo that I visit twice a year at best,” I replied.

“Sounds thrilling,” he commented with a quiet laugh.

“Oh, you bet,” I responded.

“So, what do you do for fun in the midst of all that Ohio-style excitement?” I shrugged.

“I like to write music,” I spoke, looking up into his knowing gaze.

“What?” I laughed. He shook his head.

“Nothing. It’s just, I knew there was something about you that I liked, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. That’s it, though. You’re a musician,”

“Whoa, there. I don’t know if I’d go about calling myself a musician. I just,” I trailed off briefly, searching for the right words.

“I don’t know. I like writing songs sometimes, but I’d never actually be able to, you know, perform them in front of people,” I rambled. He was still smiling.

“I bet you’re a great singer,” he said. I blushed a bit, deciding after a momentary mental debate to pull my phone from my pocket. I opened my recordings and slid the device across the table, giving him my silent permission to listen to the one thing that most rarely heard. He placed the phone to his ear and listened as my voice flowed through the small speaker.

I pressed my face into the table, overcome with nerves, looking up hesitantly when I heard him set the phone back down. He stared me down for a few seconds before breaking into a smile, revealing two rows of perfect, white teeth.

“Did you write that song?” he asked. I nodded slowly.

“I loved it.”

“You did?” I asked skeptically, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. I found nothing but pure fascination.

“Of course I did. You’ve got a really nice voice, you know that? And the lyrics were so well-written. Do you have any more?” I pulled my phone back, opening up the “Notes” section and handing it over to him. He scanned through song after song, smiling to himself and occasionally looking back up at me. I couldn’t help but notice how cute he was when he was truly interested in something.

“This might sound weird, but I think you’re exactly what I’ve been looking for. I haven’t been able to finish a song on my own in months, and I haven’t been able to find someone to write with that I really mesh with, you know? But these songs,” he trailed off for a moment before shaking himself out of whatever reverie he’d fallen into, “These songs are great, and I think we’d make a good team.”

“You want to write with me? This is an actual thing that you want to happen? You’re really asking me this?” I spoke in utter disbelief. He nodded. I considered this for a moment.

“Well, I don’t believe I’m in any position to say no, now am I?” I replied with a smile. His eyes lit up and I couldn’t help but laugh at his excited expression.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s write,” I giggled.

We sat there for what felt like forever, writing and revising, and criticizing, and re-starting. Kendall had been right- our styles fit together so well it was ridiculous. Just as we were really hitting our stride, my phone began to ring. My eyes went wide as my friend’s name and goofy contact picture flashed across the screen. I quickly answered, leaving Kendall momentarily confused.

“You realize the party started like a half-hour ago, right? You haven’t even called. I’ve been worried sick,” She ranted, opting to skip the formalities.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry. I just got a little caught up. I’ll be there soon, I swear,” I answered as I gathered all of my things from the table and slipped my jacket back on, hanging up on her before she could chew me out. Kendall got the idea and followed my lead as we high-tailed it to the apartment.

We hustled our way through the streets before finally arriving at the party. I knocked on the door and my friend soon answered, drink in hand and slightly incapacitated.

“You’re here!” She squealed, throwing her hands into the air and sloshing a bit of rum onto the hardwood floor.

“I am!” I squealed back as she leaned in to hug me. Her eyes widened in shock as they landed on Kendall, who gave a shy wave.

“I found a pop star, so I figured I’d bring him home with me,” I explained.

“Oh,” she nodded, teetering away to mingle with her other guests. Kendall and I stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the loud rap music, the strong smell of alcohol, and the young adults grinding on the dance floor with reckless abandon. I looked at him and he looked back at me, shrugging.

“If you can’t beat ‘em,” he said, grabbing a cup of gin from a nearby table, “Join ‘em.”

“Cheers,” I replied as we each lifted our cup and chugged the burning liquid. Kendall took my cup and set it down next to his.

“Now that we’re on our way to being slightly intoxicated, may I have this dance?” He asked, offering his hand.

“You may, but I’m just warning you- I can’t really dance,” I responded reluctantly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he soothed, “Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. I promise.”

I nodded as he tugged me to the dance floor. He stood behind me and gently pulled my body closer to his, lifting my arm and placing it behind his neck as his hands came to rest firmly on my hips. Within moments we were swaying to the beat of the music, moving in perfect time as I followed his lead just as he’d told me. My eyes began to close and I quickly became lost in thought. I couldn’t tell if it was his musky scent, the confident manner in which he moved those hips of his, or how quickly I’d consumed my gin, but Kendall’s every touch suddenly felt like lightening and I wanted him more than anything else.

“See? You’re doing it,” he spoke quietly, his warm breath tickling my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.

“Well, I’m following a pretty great leader,” I giggled. He slowed his pace a bit and brought a hand up to my face, gingerly tracing my jawline before lifting my chin and angling my face toward his own.

“Would you be upset if I kissed you right now?” He asked, nearly whispering. His lips were mere centimeters from mine, and I’d be lying if I said they didn’t look inviting.

“I think I’d be considerably more upset if you didn’t,” I replied. I felt him smirk seductively as our lips met, his moving slowly but hungrily against mine as we stood there in the middle of the dance floor, lost in our own little world. He finally pulled away, those adorable dimples etched into his cheeks as he looked down at me. His hands fell back to my hips and we continued to move just as we had before- wordlessly, but in perfect synchronization.