bad decisions

Prologue Part 2: And His

June 2014

Laughing and walking into the bar with Jolly, I felt something sharp hit my shoulder. Hissing in pain, I looked over to see a girl around my age with an embarrassed look on her face, I chucked to myself.

"Sorry, I need to pay closer attention to where I'm going. You okay?" I asked the blonde, noting the studs on the shoulders of her leather jacket.

"I'm good, let me buy you a drink. I told my friend I was going to take someone's eye out wearing her jacket but she insisted," the girl said back sheepishly.

I nodded and held my arm out indicating her to lead the way. Jolly laughed and clapped my other shoulder before heading off to find another in a long line of one night stands. So much for him needing a wingman.

Following the girl, I checked out her outfit, surprised to see that she was wearing converse-style shoes and she was similar height to me. Most chicks in LA, especially taller ones, refuse to even look at a guy not half a foot taller than them. But she doesn't seem to care.

Approaching the bar, she leaned toward the bartender, "Martini, dry, please, with a -" turning to look at me she raised her eyebrows politely.

"Oh, can I get a Bulleit Straight, on the rocks," I asked, looking across the shelves behind the man for a decent whisky.

The man nodded and began making our drinks. I turned to the girl, finally getting a good look at her. She was cute, not usually my type but not unattractive. With curly blonde hair, brown eyes, and sharp features, she looked like a classic magazine cover girl. She smiled lightly at me, holding her hand out to me, "Sorry for bumping into you. My name's Ali. You?"

I took her hand and squeezed, "Noah, and don't worry about it. How's your night been?"

"Good," she said, nodding to the bartender as he set our drinks in front of us, "You know, I've never actually seen him touch that bottle in the two years I've been coming here. Never met a guy in LA who legitimately drinks whisky."

"It's probably because I'm stuck in my ways and just moved here," I laughed. She laughed with me.

After a couple hours of drinking and exchanging culture-shock stories of our first few weeks in LA, we exchanged numbers and went our separate ways for the night, hoping to meet up again in a couple weeks.

August 2014

I met Ali at that bar just under three months ago. Since then, we've been on a couple dates and have both spent the weekend at each others' apartments. I know it's fast, but she's perfect. She's sweet and compassionate, funny and intelligent, cute and playful. She's so easy to be around. She's really supportive of and interested in my music. I feel like a kid with her. The guys have even been commenting every now and then about how happy I've been.

I've been bored out of my mind the past week with Ali in New York for a magazine shoot and interview, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. The way her hair bounces behind her shoulders when she walks, the insane amount of love she has for everything strawberry flavored, and the way she giggles when she talks about the things she loves.

I've been openly infatuated with her for weeks now, and everyone, including Ali, has made jokes about how in love with her I am. I plan on telling her as soon as she gets back from her trip.

May 2015

Ali and I have been together just over six months now. We're both incredibly happy and as cheesy as it sounds, totally in love. I asked her over dinner a week ago if she wanted to consider apartment hunting with me for a place for us, and she one-upped me. Asked me to move in with her. I agreed. I just finished moving my last box into her two bedroom apartment in eastern LA. I'm so beyond excited to start this part of our journey.