Bailamos? | Mark Owen [Take That]

Chapter 11

The chauffeur drove me silently back home. I didn't say anything during the trip but he looked through the rear view every now and then, noticing the look on my face.

"Are you okay?" he asked me while we were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Yeah..." I replied looking out of the window how we were leaving Manhattan behind "Why shouldn't I? It's not that I wasn't expecting it to happen..."

"You really feel for him don't you?"

"Oh, no..." I shook my head "We just had a nice evening out, that's all"

"Why didn't you tell him to take you with him?"

"I can't do that... I can't leave Brooklyn cuz of a guy I met and dated only once!" I said annoyed at what this man was implying.

How could I tell Mark Owen that!? That man was crazy! Besides I didn't feel anything for him...

"Sorry..." he apologized and added "I thought you've known each other for a long time"

"No..." I shook my head "We don't..."

"The way in which he looked at you was... special, don't you think?"

"Yeah... right..." I burst out ironically, actually trying to believe what I was telling this guy, actually trying to convince myself that I hadn't fallen for Mark. How could I have fallen for a guy that quick? How could I feel something for Mark if he had been nothing else than a date? I knew beforehand that we wouldn't have anything serious, that he would sooner or later leave America and go back to his country, to start touring with his band and... probably doing with other girls the same he had done with me. He would take them on a date and then he would leave them, arguing he had some concerts to do somewhere else.

 "Are you sure of what you say miss?" the chauffer asked me again "I have worked as a chauffeur for about twenty years and I've driven more celebrities than you can even imagine"

 "And what does it have to do with me and Mark?"

 "I saw the way he looked at you when I was driving off" he told me "And none of the celebrities I've driven on a date looked at their girls in the way Mr. Owen looked at you after you said goodbye"

 I didn't want to think that. I just preferred to believe that Mark didn't care for me more than what he should. We had just had a nice date and an effusive summer-love, that was all. I hadn't fallen for him and he certainly hadn't fallen for me either. It was better to think that way... so there would be no tears or anything in the end.

 I remained looking out of the window, trying to guess what was beyond the Hudson river, trying to see if I managed to see the land which was waiting to receive Mark back with open arms, the land which would make him forget all about me.

 There was a loud silence in the car until we got to Liz's house. When the chauffeur had parked outside the house I waved him goodbye and I breathed deep before getting out of it and walked down the pebbled path towards the entrance door.

 I tiptoed my way to the bedroom, trying not to wake anyone up and silently pulled my t-shirt on, sliding into bed and looking at the bunch of flowers that Mark had got me the day before carefully arranged in a vase on my night table. I couldn't help but smile and reached out to read the card with Mark's handwriting once more.

 My eyes filled with tears when I remembered the amazing time I had spent with Mark. I remembered how good he had made me feel, how he had managed to make me realize that he was not how they portrait celebrities, that he was a simple twenty-two year-old, just as simple as I was.