Immolate

I. Fortuitous

Fortuitous

Deep breaths. Breathe In…and hold for 5…and out…here we go.

She counted herself in, lightly tapping her fingers against the guitar as a metronome. It felt strange at first to disturb the silence of the old theater, as if she were interrupting a large creature’s slumber, but the familiar sound of the strings seemed to set her thoughts straight.

This is how she practiced whenever a space was available before a gig. Even before a sound check with the rest of her band, she needed to get comfortable with the sound of a room alone, one of her many quirks.

This was a new song they were going to try out with the crowd. Even if they were fresh faces on the music scene, it felt necessary for her and the others to stay inspired while trying out new material on the road. She let the notes flow as she sang acapella.

Shall I call you a friend
When we never made amends

She paused. Sensing she was being watched. 

"Sing it again," a deep voice whispered so close as if she could feel a breath tickling her ear. Her body shivered involuntarily in response.

She whirled around in surprise, nearly losing her footing off the stage. No one was behind her. “Oh!” She exclaimed.

Someone heard me. Shit. That was one of my worst takes! She strained her eyes to make out the figure that called out to her, but it was too dark to see beyond the first few rows of seats. “Hello?” She answered back. 

“But try it in this key, I bet your tone sounds richer here,” the voice continued, accompanied by an echoing note from the piano on the other side of the theater.

“Who is th-“ her question fell short as a tall figure made its way in front of the old grand piano she had noticed earlier. 

The shape of what resembled a human came into view from the shadows of the dark venue.

Her breath hitched for a moment, slowly taking in the sight of an unfamiliar man. 

Not just any man. One of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. She had never used the word beautiful to describe any man. Do men even come like this anymore?

Few waves of light blonde hair framed his face and stopped right above his shoulders, with most of it tied back. She blinked several times, trying to wake from what felt like a lucid dream. Is he a hair stylist? Seemingly with hair like an angel. 

His eyes caught her off guard, a bright blue so strange and lovely, they looked almost unnatural. Are those contacts? Her face twisted in confusion. This guy can’t be for real!

She heard a low chuckle from the figure, as if he heard her thoughts. Did I say that aloud? Her eyes widened with embarrassment, not remembering what actually happened.

Locked in a trance with the stranger’s eyes as he quietly glided toward her direction, her gaze suddenly snapped to his mouth, revealing the most immaculate set of teeth she had ever seen.

The mouth began to form words and she forced herself to look at him straight on, tensely pursing her own lips. 

“Forgive me. I should have known better than to disturb a lady at work,”  his tone sounded almost apologetic, with a touch of playfulness. He tilted his head to the side to examine her closely. He looked amused at her baffled expression.

Do I hear an accent? she thought hastily. 

You should say something soon, and stop ogling him! What are you, a hormonal teenager? Have you never seen attractive men before? She scolded herself while shaking her head quickly. Despite the lyrics that came easily just seconds ago, simple words seemed to elude her at that moment.