"Who?" I question the man with a frown. I don't think I heard correctly, especially over the loud car horn outside. He lowers his extended hand quickly, that I was supposed to shake.
The man groans, as if this has happened to him many times before. "Star-Lord, man. Legendary outlaw –"
"No, no, no. I just didn't hear you." I reassure him with a friendly smile. And Star-Lord? What the heck? That's weird, yet why did it sound so familiar...? I've heard of it, I just can't place my finger on it.
I take some time to examine his appearance, and manage to be subtle. He has tousled light brown hair, which is thick and lustrous. His eyes are hazel, and flecks of silvery light perform ballets throughout. His face is strong and defined, as if his features are moulded from granite. And he wears a red leather jacket that is designed with different zippers and buttons. Other girls would defiantly find him attractive, but he doesn't seem my type. Something seems wrong.
"Oh." He nods. "Peter Quill."
I drop the spray bottle in my hand and it crashes to the floor, spreading its blue colored chemicals everywhere. Customers gasp and yelp at my abrupt behaviour. I drop to the floor and begin to use the cloth in my hand to clean up the mess frantically, before my boss notices.
Star-Lord .
He lowers himself to the floor too, and looks at me strangely, "Uh, do you need help?" he asks.
I slowly look up at him and shake my head vigorously. It is quite unbelievable, shocking really. My mind is sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the images it is being sent by my eyes. I look away, then looked back to see if he was still there.
One of my co-workers rushes over with a bucket of soapy water and a mop. I jump up to my feet and abandon the cloth, feeling really dizzy. I bet everyone is staring at me, but I don't care at this moment. I run my fingers through my unkempt hair, and try to keep my balance.
Peter Quill, Star-Lord.
This is no coincidence. How many people are named Peter Quill, and have the ridiculous nickname of Star-Lord?
He frowns at me with minor concern. "Hey, are you…alright?"
I can't answer his question for some reason. I can feel my ears pop; all noise blurs and it sounds distant and faded like background music. My vision is impaired and is extremely disorientating. My skin is becoming clammy and I feel the pressure of blood flowing to my brain as if I am about to vomit. But I don't. Instead, darkness starts to cloud my vision and it feels like I have just gone to sleep.
I have no idea what is going on right now.
It feels like I have entered some dream world where everyone's voice is magnified and all of the lights are incredibly bright around me. I can hear some people yelling out my name and the word 'ambulance'. This is so confusing.
Then it feels like a thick pressure is released off of me; slowly and reluctantly, uncovering my face. I can now blink, close my eyes, and blink again. I catch glimpses of a creamy ceiling and blurry figures hovering above me. I can feel soft neat sheets and a bright yellow artificial light shine down on me. Where am I? This isn't my room…
"No, ma'am. Please calm down. You don't understand. Miss Quill has only fainted and has a trivial wound her scalp, nothing major." I hear a masculine, formal and business-like voice converse.
"Only fainted? She looks like she is dead!" I hear a familiar Southern drawl argue. Rusty.
Wait, are they talking about me? I fainted? How embarrassing!
My eyelids finally open up wide, and I groan groggily looking around my surroundings. I am in a hospital as it seems. A place which I'd rather like to avoid. There is an ice pack, glass of water, and various bottles of medication placed on the bedside table. Rusty and the doctor haven't noticed me waking up yet and continue to argue.
I sit up and clear my throat dramatically. They turn to me at once, stop arguing, and smile. I smile back, and Rusty is the first to rush to my bedside.
"Oh my golly, are you okay?" she searches my eyes for any pain, and I laugh.
"I'm fine." I swat her hands away gently, although my head does ache a little.
The doctor slowly walks to my bedside with his hands clasped behind his back and says, "After you fainted, Miss Quill, you hit your head on the edge of a table causing additional injuries." He tells me and my eyes widen slightly.
"Do not fret, we have mended you up. You are able to be released now, although I recommend the proportion of the day as rest. Drink lots of water, and if you happen to experience any major dizziness contact us as soon as possible." He explains, and I nod. That's not too bad.
As he leaves the room, Rusty looks at me with a pointed look.
"Okay, what did you do?" she asks accusingly.
"What? No, nothing!" I tell her.
"This better have nothing to do with S.H.I.E.L.D." Rusty warns me and I sigh.
"Rusty, this has nothing to do with them. Okay?" I try to get it through her head. "I freaked out, and fainted…"
"Freaked out?"
"Yeah…I can't really remember the details properly." I lie to her, although I remember everything perfectly. She won't believe me anyway, and I don't even know if what had happened was real. I must have fainted from all the stress that I'm experiencing right now.
A nurse enters the room, carrying some of my extra belongings; my phone, handbag, bracelets. I slip out of covers and receive my belongings, and thank the nurse. Rusty leads me out of the room and to the receptionist's desk to be checked out.
I tell the lady behind the desk my name. While she does some rapid typing on her keyboard, Rusty speaks up again. "Your dad and Aunt came by to check up on you." She tells me and I nod.
"What about Conner?" I mention my boyfriend.
Rusty tenses her jaw and looks elsewhere, "He said he was too busy." She mumbles and I frown to myself. Too busy? What if I was in some critical condition? Too busy my ass.
We get home by half past six, after collecting my car from work, and getting fired. Again. I was going to quit anyway, since I hate my boss oh so dearly.
Was I dreaming before, or was it all real? It probably wasn't. I mean, Peter died all those years ago so it's physically impossible for him to be real. It must have been a hallucination, an effect during fainting perhaps. And I was so stressed out anyway.
"I've ordered takeaway tonight." Rusty says, placing her handbag on the kitchen bench and throwing herself to the sofa.
"Pizza?" I wonder hopefully and land on the sofa right beside her.
"Pepperoni." She confirms. She flicks on the television, surfing through all the channels; celebrity gossip, instant news, boarder security, non-stop adverts.
My phone begins to vibrate and ring from my pocket. I let it ring out the first time, knowing it's probably some relative worried about me.
I rarely ever visit my family, and it's really bad. I live in Missouri now, and I have all these opportunities to visit them but I just won't. It's not just because all of the painful memories will come flooding back. My dad has a girlfriend, and as much as I want him to be happy I can't stand the idea of my father with another woman.
My phone rings again, so I decide to hesitantly pick up. Even though I don't want to talk, I want my family to know I'm fine.
"Hello?"
"Miss Quill. You didn't forget our meeting, did you?"
"Coulson." I say and groan. The meeting. I forgot all about dwelling on S.H.I.E.L.D. with all this drama going on. I do not want to meet with them now, especially with my 'injury'. Even the doctor had told me that I needed rest.
"Listen, I heard about your little…accident." He tells me, almost reading my mind.
"Is that S.H.I.E.L.D. again?!" Rusty shouts in the background. Coulson can defiantly hear her, so I stuff a pillow in her face and scoot over on the couch.
"News travels around incredibly fast." I say, remembering how serious they all are in the business.
"Fury says it's fine to postpone even though everyone isn't too happy. We have a tight schedule." He explains to me, and I feel relieved. I still have to see them again, but just not today. I'm not ready for it anyway.
"Good. So when will it be?" I ask with a smile.
"We'll let you know." He answers mysteriously, and I screw my face up.
"No, like I need a specific date. Or a time. You know?" I try to cooperate but he just hangs up in my face. I scoff, glaring back at my phone.
"Rude…" I mutter.
I finish off my last slice of pepperoni pizza before cracking open a can of cola and taking small sips. I should really be drinking water, but oh well. Rusty went to her room to eat her pizza, and I think she is sleeping now. I'm not too sure.
I'm lying on the sofa in my pyjamas with damp hair, and various blankets draped over me while I lazily watching television. I don't even like this show, it's terrible. Keeping up with the Kardashians. Too many dramatic things are happening in one episode and it's so unrealistic for a reality show. Then again, my life is similar.
It's only ten o'clock and I am really tired. I should get some rest because I don't want to go back to a hospital again. I flick off the TV and yawn, leaving my dirty plate and half-finished soda can on the floor.
The sofa is surprisingly comfortable so I try to fall asleep here. I could describe falling asleep as like being caught in a carousel of thoughts. Every idea, notion and event from my day would replay in my mind, demanding analysis before I could be allowed to sleep. S.H.I.E.L.D., being fired, hospitals, Aunt Meredith, and Peter…
And then finally when the carousel comes to a stop, it starts up all over again. After what seemed to be like hours, I could feel myself being dragged into the deep dark oblivion of sleep. Finally.
Until something has to interrupt my achieved peace.
It is a rather loud shatter of what seemed to be glass, or something similar. I bolt upright, with my eyes wide. I look to the right, where the wall is made entirely of glass, from the ceiling to the floor. That didn't break though, but what did? Is someone trying to break in? Burglars?
I can hear the sound of people whispering to each other, but I can't make out the words properly. There are people in my house! I slowly get up, and walk as quietly as I can to the kitchen, sliding out a butcher knife from its holder and tip-toe to where the whispering sounds came from.
I make a turn down the hallway, the hallway that leads to the abandoned guest room. I discover shattered shards of crystalline glass scattered all over the floor. They broke my freakin' vase! Those bastards.
I continue to walk down the hallway, glancing into the different rooms on both sides of the hallway but there are no signs of any people.
"Hello?" I call out, which is the stupidest thing anyone could do. I don't hear a reply, but instead I hear more whispering. I come to the end of the hallway and slowly turn around.
I open my mouth to scream, but my mouth gets covered by a gloved hand, and the knife I hold is swiped away from me.
"Jennifer, please shut up!" The man with the red leather jacket whisper-yells. Peter?! There are a number of beings behind him, but I don't take time to look. My eyes widen, and I scream behind his hand. It sounds muffled and silenced. I know to physically fight, but my limbs are frozen.
How is this possible?! Peter?!