The Stare

Chapter 8: Pitter, Patter, Chatter

~Kiara~

A few minutes later, just as I was regaining my breath after my dance floor escapade that left me both amused and bewildered, a call from Gray illuminated my phone screen. His voice carried a touch of breathlessness from the other end, as if he'd been caught up in a whirlwind.

"Hey, Kiara," he panted, his tone slightly amused, "Need a cab arranged for you? Or should I consider it an honor to chauffeur you around?"

A chuckle escaped me. "Well, well, Gray, it sounds like your night is turning into a blockbuster, huh?"

He replied with a playful tone, "Oh, it definitely has its moments, but you know, everything could be a tad more splendid if you were here. By the way, just to keep you in the loop, her name's Liz."

I quipped, "Well, you can park the cab idea for now. Enjoy the night, and remember to use protection."

Gray let out a hearty laugh on the other end. "Don't worry, I've got that covered. But hey, if you ever decide to join the party, you know where to find us."

I joined in the laughter, thoroughly entertained by our banter. "I'll keep that in mind, Gray. Enjoy your twosome, and I'll catch up with you soon ."

With a mischievous grin, I hung up on Gray, feeling a sudden surge of spontaneity. The music beckoned me, as did the colorful cocktails winking from the bar. I snatched a couple, determined to turn this night into a solo dance-and-drink fest .

Back on the dance floor, I took my imaginary partner's hand - a glass of cocktail - and swayed to the rhythm, feeling the music's pulse deep in my soul .

After a few minutes, my saree decided it had had enough of the dance floor drama. It wrapped around my legs like an overprotective parent, making every step feel like a tipsy waltz. I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

As I fought the saree's clingy embrace, all I could think of was the sweet liberation of my pajamas back home. "Oh, how I yearn for the loving hug of my pajamas," I joked.

With that, I downed the remainder of my cocktail and decided it was time to gracefully exit this party stage. Pajamas awaited, and they were the true headliners of my late-night comfort show.

As I reached the exit, a gust of wind tousled my hair, as if the universe itself was urging me to embrace the upcoming rain.

And then it happened. The first droplet landed on my nose, a cool and refreshing kiss from the sky. It was quickly followed by another, and then another, until the heavens opened up in a joyous downpour.

I stood there in the rain for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling of the cool drops cascading down on me. Each droplet was a tiny burst of rejuvenation, washing away the fatigue of the night and leaving me feeling alive and free. It was as if the rain had a magical way of cleansing not just my body but my spirit as well.

I stood under the shade, attempting to book a cab. Thirty minutes dragged on, and still, there was no sign of a ride. It was as if no driver in the vicinity was ready to venture out into the rain-soaked streets. Frustration began to creep in as I watched the minutes tick by, the pitter-patter of raindrops on the pavement becoming a constant companion to my impatience.

Just when it seemed like I'd be embarking on a solo expedition in the rain, a sleek Mercedes pulled up before me, its glistening exterior and alluring design instantly catching my eye. Hot. Damn.

As the window reluctantly slid down, revealing the figure behind the wheel, I couldn't help but let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. Lo and behold, it was none other than Ethan. Because, you know, the universe has a knack for delivering your least favorite co-stars right on cue.