Poems and Stories

Unbalanced – A Short Story

He’s seen her.

From the beginning of his concert from the stage until now. Even with the bright lights shining down on him, the loud sounds of the arena all around, he still sees her.

She’s not exactly up front but she’s quite close that he can still make out what she looks like. Her long, brown hair flowing around her shoulders, her dark yet smoldering, bright eyes, and those full pink lips, smirking.

There’s just something about her that got his attention from the start. His gaze always sliding over to where she is even as he performs. He doesn’t understand it but he finds himself enthralled by her mere presence.

Perhaps it’s because she’s so different from those around her since she isn’t even bopping to any of his dance songs.

She’s just… standing there.

She isn’t even using the glow sticks they gave out earlier, or even waving a banner with his face on it – like most of the audience around her are doing.

She’s simply… staring.

At him.

With a small smile on her lips and a hint of a dimple on her left cheek.

That’s all she’s doing.

Looking.

Watching.

Staring.

She’s an enigma. And she definitely caught his eye.

“Los Angeles!” He screams into the microphone, a huge smile on his face as he tries to ignore her heated stares, drawing his attention towards the crowd. “How is everyone doing tonight?!”

Fans start screaming back and chanting his name. He grins hugely as he waves and the fans scream louder.

“Tommy! Tommy! TOMMY!”

This. This is why he does what he does. This is why he became a singer, a performer. Regardless of him not fully embracing having everyone’s attention on him all the damn time, he still loves making the crowd, his fans happy. He loves performing. He loves putting a smile on everyone’s faces who watches him perform, be it in a film, a series or a concert like right now.

But for some reason – he wants her to notice him the way the others do.

So his gaze inadvertently slides over to where she is standing.

Again.

And this time, he gulps as he sees her.

Because she is looking at him with that penetrating stare, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she bites them, a naughty smirk suddenly showing. She beckons to him with those enigmatic eyes of hers as she starts to slowly walk backwards, her gaze unwavering from him. Until she gets swallowed by the crowd in the dark and he can’t see her anymore.

He doesn’t know what propelled him to do it. He doesn’t understand why he felt the need to do so. But he found his own feet walking backwards, before he turns around and bursts into a run – uncaring of the audiences’ bewildered screams and the production team’s questions as he sprinted past them.

He doesn’t even know where to go. He doesn’t even know where he could find her. He doesn’t know where she could have gone.

But he knows that he needed to somehow follow her. To find her. To see her up close. To speak with her. To gaze into her eyes closely.

Perhaps to ask why she looks at him that way. Perhaps to see for himself if she is indeed real and not someone his brain imagined.

He runs out towards the parking lot from the backstage where the crew and even his own personal van is parked. He couldn’t explain why his feet took him there. But for some reason, in the back of his head, he knows – he just knows that she is there.

And he is right.

Because there she is. Standing by the side of his van, arms crossed with that sinful smirk still on her lips. He doesn’t even question how she knows which van is his. Because he understands that anything that concerns her from the very beginning is simply… bizarre.

He stops a couple of feet away, catching his breath as her eyes continue to hold his own. He cannot, for the life of him, even look away. Not that he wants to. He isn’t even trying.

“Who are you?” he whispers, his breathing shallow. “What do you want from me?”

She continues to smile that knowing smile of hers and he suddenly wants to do something to make her stop smiling like that at him. Because it unnerves him, unsettles him. It’s making him do things that aren’t exactly in his control.

SHE is making him lose control.

“You’re the one who followed me here, Timothy,” she answers in a husky, low tone, calling him by his real name. It doesn’t surprise him that she has the audacity to call him that. Everything about her seems designed to unbalance him. “You tell me what do I want from you.”

He walks towards her in quick strides, reaching her in less than a second, his right hand coming up beside her head against the window of his van. She isn’t even unfazed even when he leans down and almost touches her nose with his. She continues to smile up at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief and… Is that desire he sees swimming in their depths?

“Who are you?” he asks again, his voice in a strangled whisper. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against hers, trying to stifle a groan when he feels her dainty hand suddenly against his chest. He feels his heart beating thunderously and he hears her melodious chuckle before she reaches up her other hand and places it against his cheek.

Silence permeates the air between them while the tension continually rose up. Only their harsh breathing could be heard. Only their heartbeats beating suddenly as one are loud in his ears, the blood rushing around his head and the feel of her warmth against him is making him more lightheaded.

“You know who I am, Timothy,” she finally answers. “Your soul knows who I am. Your heart knows who I am. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been searching for me in the crowd. You wouldn’t have followed me here. You would have dismissed me as simply another face from the millions that you see everyday.”

His breathing picks up. He doesn’t understand this. He doesn’t fully get it. He wants to run away and yet he does not want to at the same time. It’s an irony that he wants to get out of.

But she’s right. Of course, she’s right.

Because in the depths of his heart and soul – he does know. He does understand.

And when the hand that was on his chest came up to his other cheek, his eyes open and see the reality of who she finally is.

“You’re… her,” he says, by way of answer.

It doesn’t make sense. No, not at all. But her answering smile is all he needs before he leans down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. A kiss of promise. A kiss of union. A union of two souls who used to be lost but are now found. In each other.

And he forgets. Forgets who he is. Forgets where they are. Forgets he even has a concert that he just left and how much of an explanation it would be to his management once he returns. If he even returns.

Because he isn’t even thinking of returning. Because right now – all that matters is that she is in his arms, she is kissing him back.

Because she is who he needs.

Damn everything else.

***

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote something. This is actually an old drabble I wrote months ago but didn’t have the courage to post. Posting it now though. 😅 I guess it’s better late than never? Please be kind to me. 😊

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