The Chance

The Human Comb

"Wait! I'm not ready, Chelsea please" Natasha pleaded, tugging uselessly at my hand. I had her in a firm grip, my strong fingers clenched around her thin and bony wrist.

Perris head suddenly looked up at the source of the pleading voice, his overlarged eyes focussed on both of us and, almost instantly, a large smile stretched across his face.

"Hi, how are you? Chelsea right?" He said, smiling widely and leaning back on his chair. He was looking straight at me, God his eyes were so beautiful what the heck made me think I could walk over and casually talk to him like a normal person?

"Well, I erm-" I stuttered, and then, suddenly I realised. He knew my name. I was shocked, where'd he get that from? Please don't tell me he knows who my Uncle is, please...

"Wait a minute" I said, putting my hands out in a sort of 'stop everything right there' position. "How do you know my name? Are you some like weird reversed stalker" I asked, looking at him warily, trying to make it a joke although actually I was seriously worried. So many people had judged me by knowing who my uncle is.

He laughed and swung forward "No, not quite, its on yo-"

Natasha intervened " Can I touch your hair?" She blurted out.

Perri swung his head round to face her wearing a surprised expression. He was obviously taken back at the bluntness and the fact she had just interrupted him. Natasha on the other hand instantly slapped her hands over her mouth in shock and looked at him with wide eyes obviously terrified that she'd just been so rude to one of her idols. She needn't have worried though because Perri just shook his head in disbelief then smiled.

"Yeah sure, no worries"

I smiled fondly at Natasha; she was like a small child that had just learned the wonders of the English language.

Perri stood up and leaned forward to let Natasha paw his hair with a kind of mesmerised smile.

"Oh my God, it's so soft" She said.

He laughed "Thanks"

Natasha stopped and he hesitated for two seconds like he was waiting for something before sitting down again.

At this point Jordan rudely shouted from across the room.

"Oi Pel are you gonna sign something or just let girls stroke your hair all day?"

"Why, you jealous?" He shouted back.

"Pfff, me? Jealous? How ridiculous, I can get girls to stroke my hair whenever I want." He pointed at Natasha. "Excuse me what's your name?"

Ashley who was sitting next to him, nudged him and said; "Errr Jordan what are you doing?"

"Calm Ash, I just want a hairbrush, I left my comb at home"

They started having an argument about whether or not Jordan needed a human comb at this specific point in time. I rolled my eyes, boys were so immature. Natasha just stood there rigid, I don't think being the centre of attention agreed with her. Poor girl. I was so used to it I forgot other people shy away from the spotlight, afraid of what it may bring.

I poked her in the ribs. "Go!" I whispered urgently but received no answer other than a blink. Brilliant, she was dead to the world.

I turned to Perri, maybe the only slightly sane one in this building at this point in time (And yes, I do know how crazy that sounds).

"Perri, please sort Natasha out, I think she may faint from attention overdose"

Perri looked lost "What can I do? Tackle her?"

I giggled "Well you can try but she's pretty stuck"

"Wait a minute"

He stood up and walked around the table. When he was around and beside me he placed his hand on Natasha's left shoulder.

"Natasha?" He whispered.

She was a statue.

He turned to me "Plan B"

"There's a Plan B? I didn't even know there was a Plan A"

"Well, now you do" He winked; "Ok, in five we're going to push her and see if she moves, got it?"

I nodded.

I placed my hands on her arm, and he did the same. His hand was so close to mine.

"3" Perri said.

So close, I could almost touch it. Amber ...shut up.

"2"

Suddenly, his hand moved and closed over mine, his fingers softly stroking my hand. Fireworks went off in my head, and a jolt went through my hand and all the way up my arm into the very centre of my broken heart.

"1" He whispered.