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6 Fire on fire

Author: Zea Drew
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Date = 27 March

Place = San Francisco (Palace of Fine Arts)

POV – Enrique

“Where are you?” I’m on the phone waiting at the door for my ‘girlfriend’ to arrive, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. I’ve learned in the past week not to expect anything rational from Aria, cause she will surprise you.

“Eh, in the limo, duh!” This girl will drive me through the madhouse straight to hell.

“Aria! Stop doing that!”

“Then don’t ask me questions I don’t have the answers for! For the last time, get it into that robotic skull of yours – I don’t know San Francisco, Sport!” I open my mouth to comment, but she hangs up the phone. I take the phone from my ear and look at the screen as if I need some proof that she just did that.

I take a deep breath and count to 20 – ten just won’t cut it this time. It’s the second time she’s done this hanging-up-on-me shit and it is extremely annoying. Deep inside I know she’s right … she doesn’t know the city yet … but it doesn’t matter. For some reason, I need to know where she is at all times. I scroll to her number to dial her back but the limo turns around the corner. I couldn’t meet her at home, so I organized a car to pick her up instead.

The paparazzi are already swarming around like bees, waiting to capture the best moments, and Aria’s airport debacle made them hungry for more blood. So even before I can make a move, they’ve circled around the limo fighting to get the best spots.

Still verging on the edge of anger, I open the door and pray again softly in my head, hoping for everything to be okay. It doesn’t need to be perfect, I’ll be happy with just non-disastrous.

I hold out my hand and she steps out of the car showing lots of leg skin. She straightens herself, and I do a very, very slow top-to-bottom and back inspection of her image.

My anger dematerializes, as my mind drops to my junk. She looks absofuckinglutely stunning! I can’t tell you much of the little black number except that it’s short and black and the sexiest thing I’ve laid eyes upon.

She’s displaying just enough cleavage to pique your interest, wanting to see more. And the only problem I have now with those ‘short’ legs in the high heels, is that they’re not wrapped around my hips … or my neck – I’m not picky. Her hair is partly tied up, loose curls framing her face and running down her back. The small touch of makeup on her face enhances her fairy-like features, her green orbs popping with a mysterious, smokey effect.

Stuck in each other’s eyes, we just stand there for hell knows how long. Then my gaze drops to her plump, pink lips and it’s as if I know I have to move, but for the life of me, I can’t budge.

Then she pulls my head down into a totally unexpected kiss, leaving me paralyzed for a mere second, but instinct takes over and my arms shift to pull her into my heated body. Her wild-flower scent suffocates me with heavenly ecstasy, but before I can deepen the kiss, she pulls back, quickly looking into my eyes before shying away.

Only then do I register exactly where we are and I look awkwardly at the now huge crowd of photographers around us, cameras flashing like crazy. Aria tries to hide her face shyly in the dip of my shoulder. Fuck! I’ve never kissed a girl in public before. You won’t find a single photo of me locking lips with anyone … before now that is.

Worse, I’m now in a difficult situation, with a full-on mountie, and a slew of cameras aimed directly at me – another unfamiliar experience might I add. I scratch the hair behind my neck, feeling rather uncomfortable in front of the cameras for the first time in my life. Pulling my shirt from my pants as unnoticeable as possible, I let it hang over to try and hide the unwelcome bulge before taking her hand to walk into the building.

The room is filled with the high, rich, and famous, each one trying to overshadow the rest. This is my world, one that everybody dreams of until they realize the truth – it’s a sham. Everybody here is pretending, hiding reality behind masks of happiness and riches. Maybe that’s why I chose this job … blending in here for me is easy, an imposter hiding between artificial poster children.

“What the fuck was that?” I’m seriously wigged out right now. My whole body is still slightly shaking from shock and my dick is only semi-deflated - on top of it all, it feels as if I’m going to puke. And the worst is that I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I mean, I’ve kissed plenty of girls before, and this never happened to me, like in never ever. Must be because of the cameras or the fact that she caught me by surprise.

“I panicked when I saw all the cameras. It was the only thing that came into my head at the time,” she says sounding annoyed.

“Stay here!” My head is a mess and I just need to get away from her for a minute.

I leave Aria at a corner table and head for the bar. I fucking need a drink, a strong one.

“One Cosmopolitan and one Johnnie Walker Blue on the rocks, please,” I put in my order at the bar. I lean with my arms on the counter, desperately trying to get back my composure. I take a deep breath.

I can’t look at Aria right now, but I know she’s by far the prettiest girl in the room. And with a room filled with models and actresses, it’s saying something. Against her, the rest looks like phony-washed-out ghosts. For the first time, I feel irritated, as if my eyes suddenly opened and I’m looking at my life from the outside. Is this who I became?

Somebody grabs me hardhandedly from behind, one arm tight around my neck and I stiffen my body and pull in my breath.

“Hey, bro!” I breathe out and relax – Damion. He lets me go and leans onto the bar next to me. I turn to face him and his eyes scan over my untucked shirt.

“See we’ve got the same problem.” His shirt is also hanging over, “What are you drinking?”

“Johnnie Blue,” I say, and Damion, knowing too well, whistles softly and gives me a stern look. We only drink JWB when we’re in a foul mood. He turns towards me, now leaning with his hip against the bar.

The barman returns with my order, and Damion asks for a whiskey and some ginger ale.

“Okay, who blew up your bubble?” he asks.

My eyes involuntarily find our table. Mel joined Aria and they are laughing about something. Damion follows my gaze and a big smile spreads over his face.

“Let me guess, little miss Aria Thompson is driving you insane?” He hits it on the head and I look into my glass, hoping to maybe find an answer there.

“Dude, if she can screw with you like this, just know you’ve officially fallen flat on your face.” He pats me on the back as if to embolden me and we pick up our drinks to go join the girls.

“I hate this fucking feeling. It feels as if my coo-coo divebombed straight into the asylum.”

“Pretty vivid description, but rather accurate. Your sister drives me crazy almost every minute of every day, especially if she pulls one of her little stunts! Mostly I don’t know if I want to fuck or strangle her.” His eyes are on the girls.

“And the worst part is being scared shitless that something will happen to her again.” He turned serious all of a sudden, and I can see the flicker of fear lingering in his eyes for a second. Then he shakes his head and the playfulness is back in those green irises.

I look at my best friend and soon-to-be brother-in-law, a little disgusted since it’s my sister he’s talking about, but relieved to hear I’m not the only one with that problem. I smile back at him. He’s been extremely helpful.

“Just so you know, rather go for the ‘fuck her’ option, much more pleasurable. Just remember to use protection,” he continues just before we reach the table, and this time we both burst into laughter.

Then a body slams into me, wet lips connecting with mine, hands stroking down my arms.

“Babe, I missed you. Where have you been?” Amanda Dee, actress, pain-in-the-butt, and occasional hook-up. I step back to get away from her, having this strange feeling that I’m doing something wrong in my gut.

Her boobs almost protrude from the way-to-tight pink dress. Usually, it could turn me on a little - she is a Victoria’s Secret model turned actress after all - but now I only feel a little sick. Either I’m losing it, or I’m coming down with something.

Damion cowardly moves to stand between the two girls before she can lay a hand on him, so she threads her arm through mine. I look at it indecisively, not wanting it there, but not sure what to do, so I just keep staring at it without blinking.

“Hi, Mel, always nice to see you. And congratulations on hooking such a prime specimen for yourself,” Amanda greets my sister without letting me go, sounding very insincere.

“Ah, thanks, Amanda. And let me introduce you to my sister-in-law-to-be, Aria,” Mel’s oversweet voice draws my gaze from the unwanted hand on my arm to meet some laughing green eyes. Why is she smiling like the devil’s assistant? She mouths the word ‘punishment’ and then it hits me. I swear softly, pulling an annoyed face.

I quickly pull my arm from a surprised Amanda’s claws and walk over to stand next to Aria, handing her the cocktail. Then I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her closer.

“That doesn’t count!”

She looks up as if lovingly into my eyes and hisses, “We’ll talk about it later, Sport.” I scuff at the nickname she started calling me by, not knowing what it means. But I’ll find out, sooner or later. Either way, it can’t be something good.

Amanda’s face turns from shocked to disgusted to fake over-friendliness. She flaps her hand through the air and throws her hair back with an equally fake motion.

“Oh, sorry darling, didn’t think you were with him.” She accentuates the ‘you’ just enough to almost let it slip by undetected, but it was there.

“Don’t look like you can think,” Aria says softly to herself, but I’m able to hear since I’m leaning my chin on her shoulder. I have to bite my lip not to smile.

“It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you, ‘cause Enrique always comes to these functions alone and leaves with somebody.” She flatters her eyes and for a moment I’m scared that her fake lashes might get stuck together. How could I be so blind? And I cringe at her words … it’s true, but not exactly the truth. I always leave with some random girl to keep up appearances, but I don’t always fuck the girl that leaves with me …

And for some reason, I don’t want Aria to get the wrong idea, but now is not the time to get into my previous sex life.

“Well, from now on I’ll always come and leave with Aria.” I’m not lying, from now on she will always be with me … eh … at functions I mean. Amanda’s smile turns upside down and she undoubtedly doesn’t look very happy at the moment. But then her fake face returns.

“Mel, is that a new cocktail you’re drinking?” Amanda is lots of things, but sharp is not one of them. My sister stares at her glass of ginger ale as if trying to figure out if the girl just seriously asked that, then she looks up at the dimwitted actress.

“Yes, it’s called ‘Unprotected Sex’. You should ask for it at the bar.” Damion chokes on his drink and starts coughing, but Mel keeps a straight face. Aria sucks in her breath and holds it in while staring at the ceiling.

“Aria, I need to pee – now, before you and I become jail buddies in a murder case!” Mel grabs Aria’s arm and pulls her along bumping Amanda out of the way.

“Oops,” Mel pouts. My sister is on a roll and everybody knows she dislikes Amanda with the passion of forty alligators in a garden pond. Amanda is Chloe’s BFF and well, let’s just say that Chloe is my sister’s least favorite person on this planet right now.

Mel and Aria seem to have hit it off just a little too well, and that might just be a little disastrous as both of them are equally unpredictable. Damion gives me a we-are-in-big-shit look, probably thinking the same thing. Levelheaded, emotions-in-tack Kiara and Mel are a good safe combination … but Aria and Mel – not so much. It’s like putting fire on fire, or more precisely fire on dynamite and it might kill us.

“I’ll dig the grave, don’t you worry,” Aria says as the two girls cling to each other while walking determinedly to the bathroom. I swear they’re planning Amanda’s death with each step they take.

“Who died?” Amanda asks then, and I catch Damion’s confused look. I click my tongue to let him know that he should just ignore her dumb-ass.

“We need to be scared right now, bro” I whisper bumping him with my shoulder. He leans forward onto the table, his eyes not leaving my sister until she disappears into the ladies’ room.

“Those girls look like fucking angels … “ he says unemotional, “but they’re anything but holy.“

“More like soul-sucking demons if you ask me … “ I add flatly, staring at the bathroom door.

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