His Darling (ON HOLD)

Chapter 3: His Performance

"And I'm still getting to the good part, the breaking down, learning how to write my story..." -Lucy Hale

LATER THAT NIGHT

I was staring in the mirror at myself, and wondered what made me decide to wear this.

Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to be noticed?

I dunno.

But my blue dress ensemble was pretty striking. It made me feel like I could stand out. And the black lace jacket helped even more with the affect I wanted to have.

I just hope that Max likes it.

Suddenly I hear a knock at the door, and when I turn around I see Charlotte standing in the doorway.

"He's due to perform in about an hour, dear." she said with a smile on her face.

"O-okay." I stuttered. "Uh... how do I look?"

"As beautiful as I remember. If Max catches one look at you tonight, you're sure to grab his attention." At this I sigh and slump over on my bed.

"But what if he doesn't remember me?" She frowns at my comment, stroking my arm gently to try and comfort me.

"If you could remember him, then I have no doubt that he'll remember you, too."

"Thanks, Charlotte. I think I'll go now."

"Just be safe, alright?"

"I will."

THE AVALON
HOLLYWOOD, CA
7:30 PM PST

He's just inside that building. He's only hundreds of feet away rather than thousands of miles. That thought felt so surreal. But at the same time, it was so terrifying that I couldn't even fathom the possible outcomes ahead of me.

*Just get in there and show him who you are and that you've come back* Charlotte's words played back in my head.

And she was right.

With that, I mustered a new-found confidence in me as I strode to the back of the short line forming at the front doors. The red velvet barriers lining the place and the burly security guard at the front meant some serious business tonight.

Just how famous had Max become in the past few years?

It turns out that the line moved faster than I originally thought because the next thing I know I'm at the front of the line in a matter of minutes.

The security guard was strappingly muscular, with many tattoos painting his well-toned arms. His black t-shirt didn't help hide his bulging chest, showing off every curve on his body. I gulped, kind of terrified at his appearance. But I had to remember that this was part of his job; to look scary to people like me. Once I mustered up enough courage, I was able to get out what I wanted to say.

"I'm here to see my best friend." I stated boldly, "I've been told that he's performing here tonight." At my words, the security guard merely laughs.

"Sweetheart, do you know how many times I hear that excuse every time Max performs here?" the security guard asked.

"I'm really telling the truth," I reply, "I even have pictures of him and me from-"

"A meet and greet?"

"No, from when we were kids."

"Hon, unless you're on my list, which I don't think you are, I'm afraid I can't let you in." My hope was about lost until a thought ran through my head.

*If a security guard named Brian won't let you in, tell him that Charlotte Schneider sent you* her words echoed in my head again. I then looked at his gold nametag to see the name Brian engraved in black letters. Thank God for having the right security guard here.