To Pique an Interest
Chapter 7: Flowers
Author's Note: Finally, another update!
Why the hell am I making a big deal out of some pretty fan? Adam continued to debate in his head, as he approached the florist, his wallet itching to spurt out a credit card to make a purchase, it's not like she's going to actually care about me anyway. They're all like that anyway, those stupid brainless whores, thinking they're going to get something out of hooking up with me.
But no, he suddenly remembered, Lilly wasn't like the rest of the women I've encountered before. For one thing, she actually had the brains to turn me down when I tried to put the moves on her.
It didn't happen everyday that a beautiful fan girl like Lilly would spurn the affections of a good-looking man like Adam Copeland himself. He liked that she had beauty and brains, but something else, something he couldn't quite figure it out about Lilly, just drew him to her. He couldn't put it together in a few words, but he was attracted to that one peculiar thing about her, and that one peculiar thing about her caused him to make a spectacular purchase for the gorgeous redhead he'd encountered nights ago back in Providence, Rhode Island.
"That's quite a tall order, but I have to say, sir, you have quite the taste," commented the salesman, carefully counting the stalks and jotting them down onto an order form, "would you like a card to go with it?"
"Yes, please," said Adam, as the man handed him a piece of paper where he could write down the messages, "I'd like them delivered to that address, and if possible, could you deliver the smaller one to the second address I placed?"
"Not a problem, sir," replied the salesman, "any time during the day?"
"As quickly as possible, whenever you can," confirmed Adam.
"Lilly Hazel…" the salesman read the name of the recipient, "that gal's a lucky little lady for a guy like you to give her that many flowers. She must be something special."
"She is," agrees Adam with a smile.
Lilly's POV
Squinting my eyes sharply, focused on that one section zoomed in on the monitor, my fingers typed away at the keyboard, my hand darting back and forth between the mouse and the keyboard, fixing that little spot on my AutoCad version of the blueprint for a tech-savvy house. I was just putting together the final bits of my portfolio, required to graduate from the two-year architecture program in RISD, one of these projects in my portfolio being a house I designed myself over six months ago, and six months after the completion of the blueprint on paper, not only had I done the physical model, but I was just putting together the finishing touches on AutoCad and Google Sketch-up.
Being an architect is a heck of a lot of work, especially for someone like me who's not the best at time management. In addition to my urban architecture studies, I'm also heavily involved with the rock band scene, playing the guitar in a quartet band I formed with Brian, Connor, and Torrey back when I first met them in my freshman year at RISD. Often we would play gigs at local coffee houses and bars, and we competed in several battle of the bands contests, coming in as the 1st runner-up at the last one in Tampa last summer.
I just need to save the files as PDFs and then I can move on to my Google Sketch-up, I thought gleefully. I was in a rather good mood at that moment, for I had gone on uninterrupted for almost two hours of touching-up my final product on AutoCad blueprint. I leaned back in my chair, watching others around me rushing to finish theirs, trying to hide my proud smirk, wondering how far behind everyone else, including Kayla, was in their final projects.
Sliding to unlock my phone, my heart sank when the familiar tune of 'Metalingus' by Alter Bridge came blasting into my ears. Somehow, though I had tried to put the incident with Adam behind in my past, it always seemed to come back and haunt me in every single way possible.
In the days after Backlash, I would hear people in the hallways chatting amicably about their experiences at the pay-per-view. Guys got excited over how Cena got owned in the main event, while the minority of female wrestling fans would gush over how hot the wrestlers looked in real life.
I, on the other hand, wished they would shut up, because it was that night when my view of professional wrestlers, particularly Adam, changed drastically. It was after that night, I realized how much of a bitch I was when I snapped at Adam, who actually sacrificed his free time to drive all the way to my apartment and not only return my phone back, but offer a heartfelt apology as well. And I didn't forgive him on the spot because I was a cold-hearted bitch.
It was unlikely that Adam would still expect me to call him back at this point. By then, he would think of me as the exact same thing I was calling myself: a cold-hearted bitch.
But then I thought again, why would Adam be so interested in some random fan like me? I wasn't anything special; to him, I was probably some pretty girl he happened to spot by the bar with her friend. I'm just an ordinary girl from Toronto who's studying in Rhode Island for her graduate's degree in urban architecture. Like hundreds, or possibly thousands, before me, I was possibly just someone he wouldn't bother over after one or two nights.
By now, he would've forgotten all about me. After all, I can't expect him to remember me after one night. Besides, even if I did call him, he'd go, 'Who is this and how the fuck did you get my number, woman?' I reflected.
I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced up from my monitor when I vaguely heard my name being called. Pulling off my Skullcandy headphones, I caught the sight of a deliveryman approaching me with a clipboard in one hand and a gorgeous pink and purple bouquet of flowers in the other. Everyone around me gasped in awe as my cheeks reddened; I hated being the center of attention.
"Miss Lilly Hazel? These are for you," said the man, handing the flowers to a speechless me. All the girls in the room squealed excitedly while all the boys whispered amongst themselves.
"Oh my God…" My jaw dropped in shock, "who…who are these from?"
"Oh yes, from your admirer," he handed me a blue envelope with my name written in calligraphy. I signed the form and he left without another word before I could inquire about my 'admirer'.
"Oh my God, Lilly!" exclaimed Kayla, scooting over to my side and peering over my shoulder, "who's that from?"
"I'll open it up later, so can you guys please get the fuck off of me and leave me alone to read it?" I snapped at the rest of the girls who had rushed over to my corner.
As soon as class had been dismissed, I quickly retreated to the student lounge, where I was surprised to find Laurel and Kayla waiting for me over by the couches.
"Lillian Murphy Hazel, you shall show me that envelope or I'll make you give it to me," demanded Laurel, her perfectly manicured nails jabbing at the unopened blue envelope in my hands along with the flowers.
"It's for me so I'm opening it, Laurel, and if you call me by my full name again I'll smack you with my guitar," I said quickly, settling myself in between Laurel and Kayla before carefully ripping open the envelope. I recited the message softly, and the more I read, the more surprised I grew:
Dear Lilly,
I know you may not end up talking to me ever again even after receiving this little gift, but I just want to let you know that I'll be waiting for your call, no matter what you think of me now. I sent you this beautiful bouquet of lilies because I wanted to show you how truly sincere I am about my apology. But if you decide that you don't ever want me to communicate with you in any other form again, I promise you that I'll leave you alone and I won't bother you or your friends again.
Love,
Adam.
My eyebrows shot up as I read the final words 'Love, Adam'. Now I felt guiltier than before. Adam was genuinely an incredibly sweet guy, and from the way I had bitched at him that day, I wanted to kill myself at that very moment.
But then again, I felt he was going a little overboard. After all, I was just some fan, wasn't I? Why would he have the heart to do something so sweet for some random pretty fan like me?
"EEEEEEEEEEEE!"
I jumped in my seat when I heard Laurel literally screeching in my ear. "OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHMYGOD!"
"I KNOW, RIGHT?" Kayla chimed in, as she and Laurel began hugging each other and jumping excitedly on the spot, squealing in delight.
"WHAT?" I yelled irritably, interrupting their celebration. Both blondes turned to me and looked at me as though I was crazy.
"Why aren't you excited, Lil? THE Adam Copeland sent you a love letter!" exclaimed Kayla, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me vigorously.
"It's not a fucking love letter!" I blurted, even though at this point my cheeks were the same shade as my hair.
"Of course it is," said Laurel, "after all, Edge doesn't write his fans love letters on a daily basis."
"Please," I scoffed, "I bet this is all some sort of joke that Brian or Connor decided to play on me. Or maybe it's Torrey who's trying to pose as Adam and make me finally fall in love with him one day."
"Okay, maybe it could be Torrey, but Torrey's a stickler for money, and he would never by anything this expensive," said Kayla, pointing out the price tag that read '$89.99', which Adam had supposedly forgotten to take off from the ribbon.
"See, Lilly?" pestered Laurel, "you just need to realize how much of a hottie you are, attracting all these boys, particularly a very hot WWE Superstar."
"Shut up," I snapped, blushing harder, "lots of pretty girls get pranked too, you know." I stood up and left the student lounge to return to my apartment, for this was the most peculiar day I had ever experienced.
Why would Adam spend this much money on some nobody like me? I pondered, as I hopped into my car and drove to my apartment located off-campus, more importantly, how the fuck is it possible that anyone wants someone's forgiveness so badly? I must be dreaming, because I highly doubt Adam would feel this bad over one night that could have been like all the other women he's seduced in the past. Maybe after all this, he'll forget me and I'll eventually return to my normal, everyday life, where I'm finishing up my graduate degrees in RISD and finding a company to employ for to get a job.
However, little did I expect, my life was just about to turn off-course from its eventless routine.
After parking my car and walking up the steps to my third-floor apartment, I caught the strong sickly sweet scent floating from underneath the front door of my room. Pinching my nose, I fumbled for my keys and opened the door, swearing under my breath, "God, I hope Laurel didn't spray her damn Chanel No. 5 all over the room again…"
"WHAT THE FUCK?" I exclaimed loudly upon the sight of my apartment, not resembling a single bit of how I'd left it earlier this morning.
I was surrounded by an endless number of flower bouquets, each one of different arrangement, color, size, and floral selection. From roses to daisies to even carnations, my apartment had literally transformed into the botanic gardens. Each bouquet bore different small messages in intricate cursive letters printed on delicate white paper.
Tediously stepping over the bouquets to try not and squash any of the flowers, I sidestepped my way to my room and noticed a smaller arrangement of beautiful white lilies on my bed. There lay another envelope, this time in purple, with my name once again scrawled in fancy cursive letters.
See? I told you I was sorry. Otherwise, I wouldn't go out of my way to prove to you how truly sorry I am, the small message inside the envelope read.
I softly laughed; I had been proven enough to know how sincere Adam was in his apology. I couldn't help but feel bad for the poor guy; it took a real man to spend this much money on flowers for a girl he hardly knew at all. Picking up the lilies, I flopped back onto my bed, playing with the petals with a goofy smile on my face. It was odd considering I was far from a girly girl and would most likely set them on fire, but at the moment, somehow, I was feeling lovesick for some stupid reason. It was time to give a certain Rated R Superstar a call and let him off the hook.
"Hey, this is Adam. Sorry, I can't take your call at the moment, but leave a message and I'll be sure to call back."
My lightened spirits sank upon hearing that voice message. Though I was well aware of Adam's busy schedule, I was disappointed that he hadn't been there when I wanted to give him the big news. Sighing, I walked back into the swamp of flowers in the apartment and flopped back onto the couch, daydreaming of what Adam would say or do as soon as I told him all was forgiven. Would he move on from the incident and leave me alone, or could it lead to something else between us?