His Queen, Her King

Chapter 3

The mall was gigantic, its walls plastered with advertisements and colors. Stepping inside, I became slightly paranoid about the large crowds of people. Somehow I managed to keep my eye on Brendon so they stampede wouldn't trample me over.

"Hurry up slowpoke!" He called out, many yards ahead of me. 

Politely apologizing to every person my arms accidentally touched, I squeezed past everyone. When I finally reached him on the other side of the crowd my lungs were already out of breath. 

Brendon chuckled, "you're tired from that?"

"Why is everyone grouped up over there?" I asked, ignored his comment.

"Ahem," he exaggeratedly cleared his throat. "If you noticed the shrill shrieks, you would see that the majority of them are girls."

"Yeah, so?" I didn't understand what he was hinting at.

"Finnian Taylor," he face palmed himself, pointing to the man the crowd was surrounding.

"Isn't he the singer dude?" I questioned.

Brendon stared at me as if I was an alien.

"Umm, an actor? Never mind they would have more security around him."

His stare wavered as he looked behind me for a second. His striking slate-gray orbs shot back to my eyes except this time, a little smirk creeped up his mouth in amusement and I couldn't help but notice how they danced like stars in the bright light.

"A dancer?"

"Katie, why on earth would a dancer be here?"

"Uh, an artist.

"Nope."

"A singer."

"You already said that."

"Crap."

I paused to actually observe what was happening. Suddenly a realization came to me.

"Wait!" I almost screamed in realization. "He's writing autographs in books. He's in Barnes and Noble. That only leads to one thing. Is he an author?!" My pleading eyes darting towards Brendon in hope.

"Finally," at this point the small smirk at his mouth widened to a mocking grin. "It says it right there anyway."

I looked up to where Brendon pointed out. It read, 'Finnain Taylor, New York Time Bestseller for Romance, autographs and pictures, 9:00-11:15. Ends at 12:00."

Sticking my tongue out at Brendon, I made up an excuse, "At least I got it without needing to look at a sign."

He laughed before asking, "What do you wanna do first?"

"Food!" I answered in one word.

"Food court's this way," Brendon waved his hand for me to follow him up the escalator. 

As I stepped both my feet onto the moving stairs, I realized only a few stragglers were in these parts of the mall. Most of them were crowed among that Finnian dude who I've never heard of. I guess I just wasn't into romance novels.

After twisting and turning among the stores, we finally reached an almost completely empty, large, open area with tables and chairs set up. Fast food restaurants lined up against the walls and three stands stood a few feet away holding the forks, spoons, knives, napkins and things for food. Above it, the fountain drinks were organized by brand.

"Katie," Brendon snapped me out of my thoughts. "What do you want to eat?"

"Pizza," I answered without looking at the menu. "Wait, is there pizza?"