1. Dawn.

*A New Year's  kiss from a stranger**

Who could have thought that everything will change at the stroke of midnight on a new year’s eve?

That’s right. A new year’s eve.

Actually, I'm not so keen on getting my ass to the city’s square or a pub or a club to welcome the dawn of a new year. ‘Cause what’s the essence of it?

This ending year has been a hell. To me. To my…family maybe. But having a bunch of nagging girlfriends. Hell, I have to get my ass up from my sulking bed and hit the washroom just to prepare.

I’m that girl that has the worst wardrobe ever which makes it insanely hard to determine what I’m seriously going to fit in.

A cashmere Jacket?

Hell, no.

Mae is looking downright hot. Likewise, Mercy. But here I am in a dire thought about what actually  will make me look a bit pert. Just for one night.

While perusing my wardrobe, I still can’t find something dashing.

The door to my room cracks open and my brother slants his head inside, peeking at me.

“Mercy says…you’re taking more time than expected. You should be fast, Dawn.”

Right, Miles doesn’t get it. I can’t find something to wear. I drag my focus back to my dull colored closet, gliding through the stack of tank tops and ripped jeans, most of which I’ve out grown.

Yet, my mind is a jumbled mess. Filled with questions. Filled with thoughts. At the moment I want nothing but to seclude myself. I fell horrible. Cursed maybe, cause why would it happen? I mean, I get the fact that things happen for a reason.

Oh, well let’s  say I’m not a conventional believer of that now, ‘cause if I believe in that general knowledge that things happen  for a reason why would a horrible thing happen on a supposed bright day? A day that should be brimmed with cheers, texts, kisses, sex for those capable of indulging in it? Hell, that conventional belief should be eradicated.

Yikes…

Worse yet, my perusing has been cut short again. Though, Miles still stands by the door, watching as Mae assembles into my room.

Like I said she looks hot. Fitted in a red, backless, body hug sequin gown, four inches heels- that’s her favorite of course. I haven’t  come across a day Mae isn’t on heels.  It’s her signature in the campus. Mae the stiletto girl is her nickname whenever someone wants to address her. A neatly, gathered golden, blonde hair in a French twist and full lips all glammed up with a red lipstick.

She closes in on me with questions etch on her features. I’m just about to get slam. I hate it.

“What’s  still keeping you, Dawn? You sure as hell knows that Matt will be…” She instantly slam her blabber mouth shut, beholding the sullen look on my face. Like I said. I never wanted to get my ass outta this house and into the buzzy streets of New York.

Mae sighs as she takes me in. It was her and Mercy’s idea to get me out and she has no fucking right to…get pissed at me. I know I suck sometimes. Well, I bet there’s  no twenty-two year old girl that sulk the way I have done the past three months.

That thing that happened  past three months was hell.

I’ve never been so cocoon by pain the way I was then and still is.

I never knew losing someone as my dad on the night of my birthday could hurt like that. We weren’t close, at all, but, hell, I was downright in pain.

Maybe, I was moping for my mother? Or for my brother? Or for the affection I was never able to milk from him as a father? I just can’t  quite fix the jigsaw puzzle pieces together but I know I was sad. I still am sad. Hurt. Somber.

********Three Months Ago*****

The cake is already there. Candles sparkling as it settles atop the chocolate cake. My favorite of course. The songs zinging through my ears as my mother blesses my eardrums with her sonorous voice.

Grins have fill my face as the birthday song washes over my inside. And Miles?

The jamming of the palm of his hands made the music more resonating.

I love it.

“Time to cut the cake.” Mom says, excited. Then I reach for the knife.

I’m just about to cut the cake when they spew the four letters of English alphabet that makes up my name. DAWN.

Suddenly, the call blaring from the landline interrupts the wonderful moment  we’re having.

“What’s wrong mother?” I ask as I behold the cold expression on her face and she knives me, particularly with a stinging stare.

A stare that speaks a million words yet I can't grasp a hint of the literal undertone of it nor does she grace with the exact cause of the burning, scorching glare. However, she graces my ears with the news which leaves me shattered.

Birthday gone wrong.

“Your father…got into an accident.”  She acclaims with teary eyes.

This moment I’m gripped by sorrow.

It hurts to see my brother, his favorite weep.

It hurts to see my mother depressed.

Worst of it all? My dad was hit by a truck driver. We couldn’t see the driver. He was a no show.

****Presently*****

Sensing the essence of my silence, Mae grasps my biceps, canoodling it as much as she can to ease the surging sorrow.

People’s view of Mae is that she’s self-centered but I know as a friend of hers that she has a clear intention. She’s somewhat selfless.

“I get you don’t have something nice to put on tonight? No worries. I’m gonna get you something. Just one call.” She mutters as she pecks my cheek and prances away.

Mae Benson being from a political background famous in the States has everything under control.

It doesn’t  take twenty minutes for someone to deliver a dress for me. It’s practically same as Mae’s which makes me think maybe, Mae got hers at the same boutique.

I quickly fit in the dress and stilettos and made my way downstairs. My eyes searches for my mother but she’s not there. I bet she’s in her room. Their room, weeping for not spending the new year with her husband. They were quite a thing when dad was alive. I guess.

Mercy’s  jaw drops when she saw me. She quickly reaches me in three steps and clamps me in a hug. A tight hug. And we begin to move outside to get a cab.

I’m tense knowing we’re heading to a social place. I’m not a social person.

I’m that person you can call a nerd. And sure enough, Mae doesn’t want me to wear my nerdy look to a party which is why she glammed me up like herself.

My lips painted with red that’s as thick as hers. My hair packed in a French twist as Mae's. Eyebrows fuller with a little touch of an eye pencil.

My glasses was outright flipped aside. I feel weird. The makeup feels wholly heavy on my face.

In matters of minutes, we were already at the club.

First time since my twenty two years, I’m stepping into a club. The music blasts across the room, it hurts my ears but I wear a façade as I traipse across the dancing floor.

Mae already slumps into Matt’s arms. Her boyfriend whom she shares her apartment with. And Mercy’s eyes roams around the room in search of someone. I don’t know, but Mercy doesn’t stick with one guy.

Well, me. I move to the bar to order something.

“Can I have…” I want to spew my choice of wine to the bartender but he already whirl around and place a glass of champagne in front of me.

“Champagne right?” He asks with a raised brow.

Out of reflex, I nod. Taking the glass I fit it into my mouth, taking a sip.

The bartender and I share glances. There’s something embedded in his eyes. It’s unnerving.

He moves closer with smiles.

“You school around here?” He endeavors to bristle his voice against the blaring music in the background.

I give him a curt nod and continue with my drink.

Fuck.

I choke on my wine.

Before long, I’m spitting on the table and coughing, it’s so embarrassing.

“I’m sorry. The wine just hit a corner it shouldn’t.”  I gush to save myself from the mud of humiliation.

The bartender guy rushes forward with a paper towel and begins wiping the table. “it’s  cool.” He sputters.

As I try to erect from the seat and move a few feet closer to my friends I feel a hand sling around my waist, making chills to roughen the skin of my arms. It’s cold and well muscled, considering the tight grip it has on my waist.

“You don’t  need to ashamed, sexy. Sometimes we make mistakes.” The voice beside me purrs, dense and brass.

I wander my eyes from his shoes, three piece Armani suit up to his…face. My breath snaps out of me as I behold the man grinning down at me. The dark, sensual curve of his lips was second to none.

Never have someone refer to me as sexy because I’m nothing you can call sexy. Does a nerd look sexy?

Hell no.

But before me stands a man whose looks alone screams power and darkness. Menace, embedded  deeply into his well molded face.

I’ve never behold someone so threateningly handsome nor have I seen darkness meld with power.

Something about this man seems animalistic. It screams danger. A huge red light, my mind rings yet I can’t  find it in me to nudge my legs forward and away from him. Instead, I study his features, briefly.

Perfectly jellied raven hair, curvy lips, pointy nose, high cheek bones, full brows. And midnight eyes. My insides cools when my eyes collides with his.

I try to muse. To sputter something and slide away from his grip but hell, I can’t do a thing except starring like…a fool.

His grin grows wider. Full. My stomach jerks

“You’re?” His voice reaches my inside and  races down my belly.

“Dawn.” I sputter, quickly. Much out of reflex not by volition.

Glancing around, I spot Mercy rocking guys, a damn sensual gyrating and Mae was no where in my line of vision. My insides recoils.

“I’m Dima.” He whispers. Just then I notice how accented his English is. It makes me wonder where he's from.

Russia?

Italy?

Spain?

I’m not too versatile in language so I can’t pinpoint where he's from.

When I attempt to sputter a word, I heard the people counting in numbers.

I then register it’s about to hit 12.am.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Before I can slice my eyes back to the man standing one breath away from me, I feel something soft press against my lips.

Much to my surprise, my lips moves in rhythm with his. The strokes of his tongue against mine is soft and gentle. I can’t seem to wear off the surprise that spreads inside me.

A New year’s Kiss from a stranger!?

I can’t believe my eyes.

Worst yet, I reciprocate it.

I feel something strange trickle inside of me. All my twenty two years of living, I’ve never felt that.

The kiss lasts long before he broke away and whispers against my lips.

“Happy New Year, Dawn.” With a voice hoarse, prowling deep into my veins.

A dark grin splinters his face in two.

I nod as scalding liquid pools in my middle.

But I never knew that a kiss on a  new year eve can alter my life and barrel me into darkness.