Chapter 1
What was he doing here? In Vegas? In a diner? And more importantly, my diner?
I didn't have anything against the guy. I didn't even know him. He just seemed to have lost his way, like I once did. I got lost for different reasons though.
He looked exactly like the guy I used to watch on the TV all the time, back when I live at my old home with them. I can't afford a TV, and I would have no time to watch it anyway. My two jobs took up most of my time.
His hair fell gracefully across his face, covering is eyes partly. His eyes were beautiful. But dull/ they were an amazing shade of brown with slight tints of hazel. They held nothing though; they were lifeless, just like their beholder. He had large dark circles under his eyes, and his face, though tanned, was pale. I knew what this meant, added to the slightly bloodshot eyes: no sleep and a lot of alcohol. Was he here on a bender of some sort?
He was wearing his trademark outfit: skinny jeans (which looked painted on), a graphic t-shirt (which clung to tightly to his body, showing his well-toned torso), and the black leather jacket (the one which hardly ever left his body). He was right to be full of himself based on his looks. He was gorgeous.
"Can you stop staring at me like that? It's making me nervous." I didn't notice that I was staring.
His voice was almost as perfect as he looked. It was like his singing; melodic and deep. It wasn't strained, and it wasn't slurred. Yet, it was like his eyes; lifeless and empty.
"Oh I'm sorry. In just not used to celebrities of your calibre coming in here." I hoped that he wouldn't throw one of his famous fits because I was staring at him. I watched as he pressed his lips into a thin line. I could feel a storm coming. I was surprised to find his mouth form a smile – at me.
"Oh good, so I don't have something on my face then?" he chuckled. I blushed slightly. He was flirting with me. I was not expecting that to happen when I came in for work today.
"No, your face is perfect... I mean there's nothing on your face." God, why did I have to stutter like that? It made me look so stupid. It made me look like a crushing fan girl; which I most certainly wasn't. I just admired the guy and thought he was extremely good looking. I'd always wanted to break into the music business; but after leaving home that dream was put on pause. It was on pause when I was there anyway. Shane gray had actually managed to do that. I wasn't going to believe the stories the press painted about him until I actually – if ever – got to know him.
He laughed again at my stuttering. "You seem nice and genuine, and you have the added bonus of being pretty; please sit with me." He pleaded. He wasn't putting on an act; he actually wanted me to sit with him.
"I'm sorry, I can't. I have to get back to work, because, as you can see, we're very short-staffed." I said apologetically.
"Oh, come on, I'm sure they can spare you for five minutes." He looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. How could I resist his eyes and his looks at the same time? He seemed like he needed the comfort of some company.
"I guess I could have a five minute break, as I did come in voluntarily. So they do owe me."
"That's the spirit." He says animatedly. I sat down in the booth across from him.
I looked at him again. He, if possible, seemed the slightest bit happier. Was that because of me? Or were my eyes just playing tricks on me?
"So, what brings a guy like Shane Gray to Vegas?"
"Would you believe me if I said I'm on vacation?"
"Not in a million years."
"Didn't think so. It's a very long story." He said, trying to put me off listening to it.
"You're not getting off the hook that easy. You asked me to sit here, so I should be able to ask whatever I want to."
"Valid point. I guess I needed to get away from the complete bitch which my life is at the moment."
"How do you mean? Your life is incredible, or at least it seems it."
"Oh it's not." Just like mine. "I don't have any real friends, apart from Nate and Jase. Everyone hangs out with me because I'm The Shane Gray. I haven't spoken to my parents in over a year because they basically hate me for going all Hollywood." I felt the need to interrupt.
"Try four years." I muttered. Not that they cared. I didn't either, for that matter.
"Huh?"
"Never mind, carry on." I was not telling him anything about myself.
"I haven't had a girlfriend since I became famous. We don't perform our own music. Every day I feel like there's an irrepressible hole. I haven't been happy in ages. And I've always heard that when you're down and stuff, that you should go to Vegas."
"That's what I heard as well. It's a complete lie."
"Yeah. I realised that as soon as I set foot in this town. I still feel lonely."
"Why are you still here then?"
"I can't be bothered to book an earlier flight."
"So you're just going to stay here for a few more days, drowning your sorrows."
"How did you know that I've been drinking?" he asked with wide eyes.
"Your eyes are bloodshot."
"How do you know I'm not just tired?"
"Because it's only nine at night, and you can't have been up before twelve."
"You didn't smell my breath then?"
"It doesn't smell, which means you've been drinking vodka, the hypocrites drink."
"Wow, you're good."
"Well, I've been here since I was seventeen. And my mom had an affinity for vodka, or anything with alcohol in it, for that matter."
"Why did you come here when you were seventeen? Shouldn't you have been in school?" I'd said too much to him already. Five minutes with him and I was almost telling him my life story. That was odd. And not good. I only trusted two people, and it had taken them over a year to earn that trust. I wasn't going to let some... pop star swan in here and gain my trust within five minutes. No way in hell.
"Um, I've got to get back to work. It was nice talking to you."
"Bye," he sighed as I walked back to the kitchen. That was a very strange encounter. He didn't even know my name.
As I re-entered the kitchen I was literally bombarded.
"Where did you get to?" My best friend and co-worker, Nicole asked. She was one of the people whom I trusted with all my heart.
"Oh, I was just talking to a customer." I explained.
"It wouldn't happen to be the young guy on table twelve would it?" She asked with a smirk.
"It might have been."
"Get in there girl."
"Shut up. I'm never going to see him again. And you know I have trust issues."
"I think everyone in Vegas does." She said before taking yet another order out.
I would never see him again. Why would I? All I did these days was work. He wouldn't go to the diner again. And he would definitely not go to the other place where I work.
Man, was I wrong.
AN: Wooooo, I love you guys. Seriously 26 fucking reviews. You guys are the shizzle. I hope this didn't disappoint. This chapter, possibly even the whole story is dedicated to Nicole, who is quickly becoming one of my best friends. It's also dedicated to Laura, because she is awesome. JB were amazing on Monday, going to see them again on the 21st of November, I'm 15 rows back. Guess who's in the row behind me? Also I've got a joint account now. Will post details on my page when we post something. R&R, can we beat last chapter's 26?
