I'm Not Moving

"Have you heard of the Man That Can't Be Moved?"

Lyla knew that this question was bound to rear its ugly head at some point. She took in a deep and steadying breath, before going on to shake her head sweetly at the man sat opposite her, who had set the ball rolling without realizing.

"You haven't?" Steve, the friend of her fiancé, asked incredulously. "They say he's waiting on a girl and he won't move until she comes and meets him. He's sat in Times Square and he swears that she'll come and see him." Steve scoffed and took a drag on his cigarette.

It was her choice and she made it.

She was sat next to her fiancé dressed in a beautiful short strapless pink Miu Miu dress and sky scraper blue Betsey Johnson's, her diamond engagement ring seemed to be glittering more than ever in the dim lighting of the sushi bar that she, Adam and three more of their friends were sat in. The shine of the diamond served as a painful reminder of the decision that she had made.

In all honesty Lyla thought that there were no such things as choices, only duties and obligations. She felt as though she didn't have a choice in the matter anymore. Right now Adam was what she needed. She needed someone secure, someone who could keep a steady and safe environment, in direct contradiction to what a life with Kyle would have offered her. Some would have said she would have been free. But what kind of freedom is it when you constantly worry about getting signed to a record label or not, or when you constantly have to think about the opinions of fans and music producers.

Life on the road was only a fake freedom.

The road always ended somewhere.

It made no real sense to her friends, leaving the boy whom she had loved with every fibre of her being, but she felt as though there was nothing else she could do.

"I think it's so romantic," one of her female friends, Charlene said wistfully.

Little did she know that everything Kyle had done was not in the sake of reawakening the romance that many people had thought was long dead, but it was simply something he did because he wanted to. He was sat outside in the freezing temperatures just waiting because he wanted to. It was his sign to her that he had always cared, and that little was going to change about that.

"Romantic?' Steven scoffed again, lighting up yet another cigarette. "More like fucking clique."

"Oh really?" Lyla suddenly snapped at him, placing her chopsticks on the table with a bang. "So how many people have you seen sitting on the street waiting for the person who means everything to them?"

Her sudden outburst caused everyone on their table to grow reproachfully quite and fix their gazes upon Lyla with wonderment. Lyla rarely ever lost her temper and she rarely grew so passionate about a topic that had nothing to do with script writing.

Adam furrowed his brow and placed a hand gently on her bare arm.

"You ok?" he asked gently, looking into her eyes as if to find the answer to her strange behaviour. But of course he found nothing, her eyes were clouded with unreadable emotions that even Lyla did not know existed.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Lyla insisted with a sigh and went on to pick up her glass of wine. In honest truth she was not fine. Far from it. After seeing Kyle's face splashed across her TV screen in the penthouse she shared with Adam, nothing was quite the same inside her. All the emotions that she had managed to suppress when leaving him resurfaced with a vengeance, reminding her exactly what she had done to his heart.

Because when a heart breaks, it doesn't break even.

She knew that this was not where she was meant to be. She was not meant to be sat in some sushi bar up town, chatting about mindless meaningless objects that only sufficed to fill the gaping holes in their lives and she most certainly wasn't meant to be engaged to a publicist whom she didn't really love.

There were so many things that she was meant to have done. She was meant to have been with her favourite six boys when they played their first show as a signed band. She was meant to be there when they had taken part on the Warped tour for the first time, she was meant to be selling their t-shirts and supporting them in every way possible.

This was the last place she was meant to be.

She thought of all the times that she had shared with Kyle, all the happy memories, and sometimes the sad ones. She smiled when she thought back to the day they first met. She had been walking around with a screenplay written that she was trying to show film companies. She was wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a large grey jumper, that disappeared four months into her relationship with Kyle and later surfaced on Caleb who wore the jumper with pride and a doe eyed expression when confronted by the original owner.

If the film company had accepted her script then she would have never met Kyle.

It was rejection that had led her to Kyle. Instead of the lifetime dream of classy Hollywood films, Lyla received dedicated adoration and unconditional love. A worthy substitute.

He had always been so forward, so impulsive. What Kyle wanted to do, Kyle did. Without a qualm he had approached Lyla and won her over with his wide and bright smile.

"You look like you've had a tough day, come on I'll buy you a drink."

Lyla would have never gone to a bar with a stranger and she would have never let this stranger buy her a drink, but there was something about this stranger that was sympathetic and he defiantly did not look like an escaped convict.

She smiled to herself, that particular memory always provoking the same response. She was about to let her mind carry on drifting and electing the more positive memories of their time together, when she was brought out of her mind with a jerk by a question that was aimed at Adam.

"What do you think about this whole sitting on a street corner waiting for a girl Adam?" Steve asked lighting up his third cigarette already.

Adam smiled roguishly and the words had obviously left his mouth with little thought.
"I think it's a bit pathetic to be honest, what girl would be worth that?"

The sound of glass shattering caught the attention of everyone in the restaurant and once again all eyes were on Lyla, who had dropped the wine glass that had had been holding in her right hand.

"Lyla?" Adam started to ask, but she cut across him furiously.

"So you would never do that for me?" She demanded hotly, some of her old spirit returning.

"What do you mean?" Adam asked quietly, shooting embarrassed glances either side of him.

"You wouldn't sit and wait for me would you?" Lyla exclaimed, rising off her seat to stand tall in her Betsey Johnson shoes.

"Lyla darling just sit down please, people are staring," Adam shot at her in a forceful whisper.

She however did not follow his plea and carried on staring down at the man who was meant to go through hell and back for her. Disappointed and slightly troubled Lyla proceeded to gently pull off the ring that had been gracing her ring finger for three months. She placed it on the glass top of the table without uttering a word.

"Lyla," Adam breathed in a shocked manner.

She just shook her head and grabbed her blue clutch that had been sitting on the table, as she made her way towards the door of the restaurant.

"Lyla! Where are you going?" Adam cried from across the room, now stood up and visibly shaking.

"I'm going to go and find the Man That Can't Be Moved," Lyla said with a small smile, before turning around and walking out the door, leaving everyone in the restaurant flustered and whispering.

The cold Manhattan air hit Lyla's bare arms once she was outside the sushi bar, but she didn't feel the cold as she determinedly made her way to Times Square, her blue heels clicking on the side walk and her heart racing, not knowing what to expect around the corner.