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Chapter 3: I've Just Seen a Face


Music. Charlie heard music. As she regained consciousness, other sounds became more clear. There was laughter, the buzzing of people's chatter and the occasional honking of cars as they sped by on the road. Her eyes still felt heavy and she was finding it difficult to open them but she could tell she was lying on a hard surface, possibly a sidewalk. And it was cold, she trembled. Her body felt like it'd been slammed against a wall, it ached in different places and made her feel completely drained of energy.

There was the shuffling of feet close by and the top of a black dress shoe came into view as she lied on the ground. It belonged to a man. Charlie's vision blurred as if she were under the effect of some type of drug. "Are you kidding me? Don't you have enough with this one, now you're gonna pick up a drunk girl too?" The voice sounded oddly familiar to her.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "Hey. Are you okay?" Charlie's eyes fluttered open again, her sight slightly more focused this time around. She looked up at the man asking the question, her heart rate increasing tenfold when she realized who he was. She looked at his companion, also a familiar face but looking grumpier than usual. The rush of adrenaline she felt at that moment could have been enough to make her jump to her feet and run away but the sight of them both had caused her to freeze in place.

"No, Bass. She's not okay, she's probably shit faced drunk." Miles replied, holding on to the brunette by his side. "That or she's homeless." He stuck his other hand in his pocket, inching a little closer to the entrance of the building in front of them and trying to persuade his friend into forgetting about the girl on the sidewalk.

Bass leaned down again, this time squatting next to her and tilting his head to get a better look at her. Charlie covered her face, as if he was going to recognize her somehow. She found his smell enticing but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was a mixture of wood with a hint of sweetness that made her want to inhale deeply. His pools of blue stared right at her, his hair much shorter but still long enough that it curled, the length almost made it look lighter. He no longer had the thick facial hair, just a tiny bit of stubble that was coming in. And he was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a white v-neck, a grey jacket draped over him. If she'd had no idea who he was, she would've thought he was the sexiest man she'd ever come across. She tried to push the idea out of her head, focusing on making sense of what was happening.

"I'm fine." Charlie replied, placing a hand on her head and looking at the tip of her fingers expecting to see them covered in blood. Luckily, it was just pounding from whatever the heck had happened in the basement of the farmhouse.

Bass extended his arm but she hesitated a moment before placing her hand on his and allowing him to help her get up. She stumbled a bit, his hand immediately wrapping around her waist and stabilizing her. The touch of his fingers made her blood pump faster as an irresistible transfer of heat occurred on contact.

Charlie slowly parted from him, dusting her pants with her hands and pulling down on her tank top. "Thanks." She muttered. The blonde wrapped her hands around Bass' arm, as if claiming possession of him. The corner of Charlie's lip curled up subtly, forming a half smile as she rolled her eyes and looked the other way. Her head still ached but she was glad she could stand on her own two feet again.

"We're going in here for a bit. You should stick around, it's probably not safe for you to drive yet." Bass said. Charlie chuckled. Yeah, if only she knew how.

Her mouth felt dry. "I could use some water." She replied.

Miles laughed, "Oh man. She's already going into the hungover stage. What's up with you, kid? You've been drinking since the morning or what?" The girl by his side laughed and it was the most fake thing Charlie had ever heard. God, if she could slap Miles for being so shallow—and Bass while she was at it—she would. He looked at Charlie like she was an idiot, which coming from Miles was nothing new, but for someone who didn't know her, he was crossing the line into rude fairly quickly.

Charlie hugged herself, feeling a cold breeze rush past her. "I'm not drunk and I'm not hungover. I'm just thirsty." She paused, looking at the street signs and buildings but not recognizing any of it. There was an almost salty feel to the air. Wherever she was, she was close to ocean waters. "Also, I'm 22. Don't call me kid." Miles disregarded her comments and continued into the building, probably thinking she was being a brat.

"Alright. Let's go inside then." Bass offered, a huge smile spreading across his face. Charlie found it odd to see him so happy but she had to admit she was kind of enjoying the change—maybe a little too much.

As she prepared to enter the bar, a large hand intercepted her path. "ID." The voice belonged to a burly man, bald and with eyes that looked ready for a kill. He looked like the type of guy who'd be a part of the militia someday, without a doubt.

"Um..." Charlie didn't know what to say. She patted her pockets, pretending like she had forgotten it.

Luckily, she didn't have to think for long. Bass happily chimed in, "It's okay, Pete. She's with me." The man nodded once and was about to let her in but something prompted him to stop her once again.

"You can't bring that in here, are you crazy?" He looked down at the knife hanging from her belt. His hand was waiting and she had no other option but to hand it over. Charlie almost felt like she was giving up her only lifeline.

She sauntered inside, following the group, and immediately became fascinated by the ambiance. It was low lit, hues of purple and red enveloped the establishment, giving the place a warm and sexy feel. On the walls there were paintings of a baseball stadium and a large mural of an orange bridge with twinkling lights. The more she looked around, she was able to piece everything together. She was in San Francisco, or somewhere nearby.

Charlie surveyed the area and its occupants. Couples danced close together, while most men hung around the bar—obviously staking out the place for single ladies willing to have a good time. Miles ordered right away, surprisingly not his usual whiskey but a round of shots to get the night started. Charlie wasn't sure what the liquor was, but she knew for a fact it wasn't anything she'd seen Miles drink before.

Bass handed her a large glass of iced water. Charlie's eyes widened like spheres as she took a hold of it. She drank the whole thing, satiating her parched mouth and leaving him impressed in the process. "I'm sorry, I never got your name." He noted with a smile.

Her lips parted and the syllable hung from her tongue before finally telling him. "Charlotte. My name's Charlotte." The blonde was still holding on to his arm. She gave Charlie a once over that indicated she was less than thrilled to be in her company. It was obvious she felt threatened by the pretty stranger.

He smiled. "Charlotte." The way he said her name made Charlie miss the version of him she'd left behind in Texas. Her stomach churned and a sudden rush of sadness moved through her. Bass turned to Miles, who by now had already downed two more shots. "Her name's Charlotte. Don't you have a niece by that name?" Charlie's heart stopped at this acknowledgement.

Miles nodded. "What's your last name?"

Charlie gulped. If she took too long to answer, they would know she was lying but if she said Matheson, it could prove to be catastrophic. "Porter." It left her lips before she had a chance to process her thoughts.

The expression on Miles' face was priceless. She'd never seen him look more perplexed in her life. "Charlotte Porter?" He ordered another round of shots. "That's too fucking strange. I'm not drunk enough for this." Charlie smiled, relieved that he had waved it off as a random occurrence and nothing else.

Bass leaned over on the bar, completely ignoring the girl that had been vying for his attention this whole time. "It's very nice to meet you, Charlotte. I'm Sebastian Monroe." He shook her hand, giving it a long, tight squeeze.

Charlie wasn't sure if it was her imagination but she found his touch strangely erotic. She felt another tug in her stomach and her chest felt like it was constricting, making it harder for her to breathe. "But you can call me Bass." He beamed, downing a shot. Charlie felt herself dangerously drawn to him and she knew this wasn't good. He was the same Monroe and yet he wasn't. "This is my friend, Miles Matheson." Miles only waved.

Bass handed her another glass of cold water before he got handed a drink by Miles. He swirled the contents of the glass around, making the ice clank against it before taking a sip. Charlie couldn't decide whether she needed to be worried about his sudden fascination with her or about the fact that she enjoyed the way it made her feel.

"Why are you dressed like that anyway?" The brunette who'd been with her uncle finally spoke. Her voice had an accent Charlie hadn't heard before and one she wished she could forget. It was like she elongated the last syllable of each word and it sounded absolutely moronic. "Is it like a costume or something?"

Miles laughed. "Yeah. Is there a cosplayers convention in town that we don't know about?" Charlie raised her eyebrows. She didn't know what cosplayers were but she did know that this Miles was quite the douche. The brunette laughed and then dragged him to the dance floor, leaving her to deal strictly with Bass and the blonde.

Bass shook his head, "Don't listen to him. He's drunk." He winked, giving Charlie irregular heart palpitations and making her wish she hadn't agreed to join them in the first place. "So, tell me more about yourself Charlotte Porter. What brings you to the Golden State and more importantly, what were you doing lying on the ground like you had just been hit by a truck?"

Charlie smiled. She didn't want to talk about this with him, or with anyone for that matter. She just wanted to get out of there and look for Aaron so he could fix this whole damn thing and take her back to the present, or the future—whatever the heck it was called now that she was here. There was absolutely no point in befriending anyone, especially not him. "Shouldn't you be over there dancing with your girlfriend?" She replied, glancing over at the blonde.

"She's not my girlfriend." He didn't even bother looking at her. Something about Charlie intrigued him. He wanted to know more about this mysterious girl and the more she rebuffed him, the more he felt compelled to pursue her. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

A laugh escaped her throat. She couldn't believe the balls on the guy. They had just met and he was already laying it on thick. Charlie wanted to speak but the thought of even entertaining his question made her laugh even more. He wasn't sure exactly what was so funny but seeing her face light up like that made him smile.

"You don't." He assumed, "And you know how I know?" Charlie's mouth twisted in an adorable manner, wondering what was his reasoning. "I know you don't have a boyfriend because no one is stupid enough to leave a beautiful girl like you all alone in a bar like this."

Charlie wanted to know what made her beautiful in his eyes, considering her clothes were dirty, her hair a mess, and she was sure she probably had specks of dirt on her face. Suddenly, she started feeling a little self conscious. And then it hit her. This was 30-year-old Sebastian Monroe, he probably got off on the fact that women swooned when he flashed them a smile. This wasn't about her at all. It was about him getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. Charlie's expression shifted, knowing she had to be extremely careful and handle him with great care.

He was about to say something else when the girl who was with him practically assaulted him with kisses. Her hands wrapped around his neck and her mouth attacked his, it was like she was trying to eat his face. Charlie felt disgusted and embarrassed on her behalf. Was this actually Monroe's life before the blackout? She couldn't help wondering how many women had crossed his path, but she was almost certain he hadn't turned any of them away. Watching the blonde bimbo run her hands all over him made Charlie feel a bit territorial. She knew this wasn't her Monroe but it sparked something in her. And then she internally cursed at herself for even thinking of Monroe as hers.

Bass finally pried the blonde's hands off of him, whispering something in her ear that made her retreat. She seemed happy enough, so whatever he had told her hadn't been tactless or cruel. Charlie nodded at him as if understanding the situation. It was obvious the girl had ruined his game. She knew it was time to leave, she'd endured enough of this 2012 madness. But she couldn't go without some kind of direction.

"Hey um..." She paused, "Bass." It was the first time she'd ever called him that and surprisingly, it hadn't felt as weird as she had expected. His forehead crinkled, anxious to hear what she was going to ask. "I'm looking for a friend of mine and I'm wondering if you've heard of him."

Miles returned in that moment, sweating and out of breath from dancing with the busty brunette. His speech was slurred, not surprising. It was actually nice to see him having a good time but she still didn't approve of the company he kept.

Bass nodded, "What's the name of your friend?"

"If you say Gene, I'm gonna lose it." Miles blurted out.

Charlie giggled under her breath. "Aaron Pittman. He works for something called Google." Bass had a goofy grin on his face and Miles started laughing.

"Something called Google?" Miles repeated. "Are you sure you're not drunk?"

She could tell Bass was just being polite and was avoiding laughing in order to not make her feel dumb. "Aaron Pittman, the millionaire?" He shook his head. "I've definitely heard of him but also has the rest of the United States."

Charlie looked worried. "I need to find him. It's very important."

"We can't help you find him. He's rich and probably doesn't even live in the U.S. anymore." Miles' attempt to speak was humorous. The alcohol was taking a toll on him and his coherence.

She looked around at the people who inhabited the bar. They all danced and laughed freely, not knowing that in a matter of days their perfect little electric world would go to shit. She looked at Miles and Bass, almost feeling sorry for them because she knew exactly what was going to happen and where they were going to end up. Bass, now a modern day Casanova, would end up becoming the leader of the Monroe Militia and inevitably cause the death of millions of people. He'd have blood on his hands and happiness would become but a distant memory to him.

Charlie couldn't stick around reminiscing any longer. She had to put a stop to everything and she knew the only person who could help her was Aaron, even if he had no idea who she was.

"I have to go." She said, turning away from them and heading towards the door in strides.

Bass caught up to her. "The bar's closing in a few minutes. What's the hurry?"

"If I don't find my friend, there will be no more bar. There will be no more music, no more lights. There will be... nothing." She said, irritated.

He didn't quite understand what she meant by that, something he mainly attributed to his alcohol fogged brain. All he knew was that she was slipping away and he wasn't prepared to let her go yet. "Can I at least have your number?"

Charlie continued on her way out the door. "Can't! I have no phone!"

The distance and the music began to drown his words. But Charlie still heard him as she stepped outside. "I'll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me!"


She roamed the streets for an hour or two, the sky was still dark when she came across the park bench. Charlie was exhausted, her body was shutting down slowly and her brain along with it. The air had become frigid and with no jacket to keep her warm, she began to shake, unable to control her shivering. The September weather had taken her by surprise. She lied across the cold bench, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked up at the night sky. The stars were dim, the city lights ruining the magnificence of the celestial bodies. This was nothing like the powerless world, she breathed in car exhaust and factory steam instead of fresh air.

Charlie missed the smell of the country, the way the stars shone bright against a black canvas and the way the Milky Way created colorful blends of stars in the sky as the crickets chirped all through the night. What was happening back home? A feeling of homesickness filled her with melancholia. Charlie wondered how long she'd be stuck there, without nowhere to go, and without anyone to watch her back. She thought of Miles, her mom, her grandpa. She thought of Bass. A smile appeared on her face, thinking back to the one she had met at the bar. But then it dissipated, remembering that she had refused to forgive him for his past mistake with her mom. Tears welled up in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hold them in. They slid down her cheeks, causing her chest to ache.

She closed her eyes, wishing nothing more than to be back home.