'A flip of a coin is but fate'
Shit. I was late.
As my feet pounded against the pavement I pulled my bag further up my shoulder and prayed to God I wouldn't miss the bus. Goldstein wouldn't be happy – this was the third time in a week I had failed in my punctuality. True he was a piece of shit, and the job wasn't that great either, but I needed it to further my journalism career. Dodging my way between old ladies and a man carrying a large TV, I glanced ahead at the bus stop. It was there. Fuck. I picked up my pace, shouting hurried apologies at anyone I whacked my bag into along the way and hurtling down the street until I finally made it to the long metal structure on wheels.
The doors were shutting.
I shot out my hand, but it was too late. The doors slammed shut and my fingers crunched against the glass. I let out a cry of pain, but then used my other hand to bang on the door.
"Hey! Let me in!" The bus driver looked at me. I saw it in his eyes, the decision of whether or not to open the doors and stop me from being late to my job again. Then he smiled and put his foot on the accelerator.
"NO!" As the bus sped off, I tried to kick it, my foot waving through the air and hitting nothing so I almost fell over. "FUCK!" I shouted "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" People around me were beginning to stare and mutter, but I carried on cursing. This was it, I was screwed.
"Someone's a little tetchy today." As I flashed my head round to the voice behind me, ready to unleash all kinds of hell, I stopped dead. He was leaning up against the bus shelter, a cigarette placed between two of his long fingers, which he took a drag of every so often. He was wearing a suit, but the look on his face was far from professional.
"That stupid asshole driver just left me in the street!" I said, still angry, but taking in his form with interest. The man smiled, stubbing his cigarette on the side of the shelter and stepping forward smoothly.
"Well I can help with that." For a second I was confused. The man walked past me, but then turned and looked back, pointedly.
"I'm offering you a ride, Killer." He said. I glanced around, wondering if he were talking to someone else.
"Me?"
"Well you're the only one with the perfect ass." As my face flushed scarlet the man smiled, before gesturing across the street. I hesitated, looking around at the collection of people – who were now wondering what on earth a strange but pretty hot man was doing offering rides to a potty-mouthed stranger. He cocked his head to the side and smiled again.
"Come on."
As we crossed the road and walked a little way down, I wondered how I had got myself into this situation.
"Who are you?" I asked, struggling to keep up with my heavy bags and the man's long legs.
"You're new best friend." The man replied. I scowled at his vagueness and he laughed.
"Where are we going anyway?" I asked. "Where is your c-?" Suddenly I stopped. The hot stranger had halted, right in front of the flashiest Rolls Royce I had ever seen.
"Woah." The sound exited my mouth before I even had time to realise. Hot guy laughed yet again, running his fingers along the shiny black bodywork.
"This baby's been with me a while." He said, mostly to himself. As he knocked twice on the window, suddenly the door on the other side opened and a driver stepped out. I was a little taken aback, especially when he went to take my bags.
"Diego." The hot stranger replied. "Take this man anywhere he wants to go."
I slipped inside the car still not really knowing what was going on. As my new friend climbed in behind me and sat down, I realised just how attractive he really was. His brown hair was immaculately styled – everything about him was groomed and handsome. His eyes however, were mischievous.
"So…" He said, leaning back into the seat and eyeing me with what could only be described as a predatory look. "Where are we going?"
"Er…" I suddenly realised I didn't want to go to Maiden Lane. Something about this guy intrigued me – I wanted him to like me. And finding out I worked at a Jewish newspaper probably wouldn't sell me in particularly good light. "Wall Street." I blurted out after a while. Hot guy looked impressed.
"Wall Street?" He said with a smirk. "Are you a wolf?" I blushed, trying to figure out how to sound cool and collected.
"Er no, I'm just visiting a…friend." Good job.
"Well hopefully it isn't the guy you're fucking." With hot guy's reply I almost choked on my own saliva. Somebody even more crass than me – who would've thought it.
"No, no – I'm er, not fucking anybody…at the moment." I stammered, adding the last part quickly so not to sound lonely. Hot guy grinned his widest grin yet, chewing on a cocktail stick he magically produced from his suit pocket.
"Well isn't that a travesty…"
It didn't take long to reach Wall Street. I knew I was still going to be late, but to be honest I didn't care. As I stepped out of the Rolls Royce and was handed my bags, the back window suddenly rolled down and hot guy stuck his face out.
"I'd really like to get to know you more." He said, his mouth twitching into that smirk again that made butterflies flutter in my stomach. "Call me if you want to have some fun." A card was produced from between his fingers – as I took it and read the name I tried to think where I had heard it before.
"Sebastian Smythe…" I mused. Sebastian laughed, still hanging his head out the window.
"That's me. And you are?"
"Blaine." I replied. "Blaine Anderson." Sebastian looked at me for a few more seconds, scanning my body with his eyes, almost as if he were trying to remember it. Then he moved his head back inside the car.
"See you around, Blaine." He said as he sped off. I stood and watched him drive away, flicking the card back and forth between my fingers.
"See you." I muttered in reply.
