FATE UNWRAPS

Chapter 7

Ita's pov

As I entered the bar, I couldn't have anticipated the surreal scene unfolding before me. My heart skipped a beat as I spotted a figure standing with his back to me, but it was his reflection in the decorative mirror that made my eyes widen in astonishment. It was him – Ryder Carson, my idol, my favorite singer. I felt like I was dreaming, my mind struggling to reconcile the impossibility of this encounter. As I stood there, frozen in awe, my gaze darted around the room, taking in the tense atmosphere. The crowd's hostility was palpable, their anger directed at Ryder, who seemed oblivious to the danger lurking mere feet away. My fear spiked, wondering why he wasn't fleeing for his life. Without thinking, I acted on instinct, grabbing his wrist and pulling him backward into the elevator, the doors closing just in time to shut out the chaos.

The only sound in the elevator was our fast breathing and the pounding of our hearts. As I regained my composure, I turned to Ryder, my words tumbling out in a mix of relief and incredulity. "What were you thinking? They were about to attack you, and you just stood there! God, I can't believe it." Ryder flinched slightly at my outburst, still recovering from the shock of the sudden escape. His chest still heaving with exertion.

Ryder's gaze snapped towards me, his eyes flashing with a hint of defiance. "Who are you to tell me what to do?" he demanded, his voice low and rough. I felt a surge of confusion and frustration at his response, my brows furrowing in dismay. "Hello, Mr. 'I'm-the-one-who-just-helped-you'?" I replied, my tone laced with sarcasm. "Instead of thanking me, you're shouting at me? I'm the one who pulled you out of that mess, remember?" I said, my words dripping with disbelief.

Ryder's retort was swift and sharp. "Did I ask for your help? No! You're the one who barged in and dragged me into this elevator." His words were laced with a mix of annoyance and indignation. I widened my eyes in disbelief, shaking my head in exasperation. "Unbelievable," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "You were about to get torn apart by that crowd, and you're complaining about me saving you down there?" I threw up my hands, incredulous at his ingratitude. Ryder's face remained stubbornly set, his jaw clenched, as if daring me to argue further.

Suddenly Ryder bursted on me, his voice cracking with emotion. "Listen, miss... did you even know what was going on? Maybe that's what I deserved - THE ATTACK! Do you hear me? I did something wrong, and they were angry with me. I'm their culprit, I deserved it..." His voice trailed off, gradually losing intensity as the words hung in the air like a confession. The elevator was filled with Ryder's ragged breathing. His eyes dropped, shame and guilt etched on his face, as if the weight of his mistakes was crushing him. I stood there, frozen, unsure how to respond to his raw, emotional admission.

I recognized the self-destructive path Ryder's thoughts were taking. Gaining courage, I spoke firmly, "No, Mr. listen to me now - you didn't deserve any of that." Ryder's eyes closed in frustration, but I pressed on, my inner lawyer taking over. "Even if you did something wrong, which I highly doubt, those people had no right to take the law into their own hands. There are proper channels for addressing issues, and the approach they took was far from legal. Such indecisive act only leads to chaos and more harm." My words were a gentle but firm rebuke.

Ryder remained silent, his frustration still palpable, so I carefully asked, "Anyway what's your floor number, Mr.?" Hoping to break the tension. But Ryder's response was curt, his voice laced with irritation. "Mind your business," he sighed, his eyes still closed, shutting me out. The elevator's silence grew thicker.

My patience snapped, and I shot back, "Can you hear yourself? You want to stand in this closed elevator forever? Fine! 'Mind your business,' okay! I'll rectify my mistake." My voice dripped with sarcasm as I reached out to press the button for the ground floor. "I'll get off on my floor, and you can go to... wherever it is you're headed. Hell, for all I care." I was about to hit the button but was restricted by his grip on my wrist. Then, in a low, barely audible whisper, Ryder spoke, "18." As I met his gaze, I saw something flicker in his eyes - a glimmer of fear, a hint of vulnerability. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough for me to see. I sensed a deep-seated dread, a fear of what awaited him on the ground floor, or perhaps a remainder of what happened minutes ago. My throat constricted, and I struggled to maintain my composure. With a gentle nod, I released my finger from the button.

As the elevator ascended, I stole a glance at Ryder, my gaze drawn to his disheveled yet captivating form. Despite his rumpled appearance, he exuded a mesmerizing beauty. However, his eyes, once likely bright and warm, now seemed cold and vacant, their usual sparkle extinguished. The elevator's soft chime broke the spell, and as the doors slid open, Ryder strode out, ignoring me. I followed, my footsteps echoing his, but what I saw next left me stunned.

To be continued..