Chapter 1: Mystery Guy

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There he was again. Leaning effortlessly against his sleek black bentley. By now I had grown used to seeing the car parked outside of my apartment, the view clear from my window. His black t-shirt clung to the taut muscles that it was covering; dark trousers along with black doc martens completed the look. Who is he, I wondered as he spoke with someone on the phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His jaw was clenched, further accentuating his god-like bone structure, which was coated in bronzed skin. He looked furious, one of his hands was curled into a fist, and I could see the veins in his honey coloured forearms, the muscles bulging as he grew angrier. As he pulled the phone away from his ear, he looked up, emerald eyes piercing mine as a smirk formed on his full lips. I stared, unable to tear my eyes away from him. He was magnetic, mysterious, and just downright gorgeous - but who was he? 

For a week now, he had made a point to park his bentley outside of my apartment every day. I had never seen him before, and I had lived in the neighbourhood my whole life. Though usually I would have alerted the police, or at least my mother by now, I somehow didn't couldn't bring myself to. He was enchanting, and I wanted, no, needed to know who he was, and what he wanted from me. 

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"Ughhh" I groaned, burying my face deeper into my pillow as the incessant beeping of my alarm continued. Ignoring the sound, I managed to fall back asleep for 5 minutes before being rudely awoken again. I attempted to open my eyes, my room was now flooded with an ungodly light as my mother stood at the foot of my bed.

"Elysia Anastasia Romain if you don't get out of bed this second you are going to become uncomfortably familiar with a bucket of cold water". My mother hissed, hands on her hips as her green eyes flashed angrily. I rolled out of bed, making a point to groan every few seconds and finally reaching my bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I saw my horrific reflection staring back at me. My dark hair stood up in different and largely unflattering angles, one of my eyes was still half shut with sleep and the eye bags underneath were just fighting to be noticed. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I applied some concealer and mascara, attempting to look normal, and dreading the day ahead. The only thing that had kept me from going straight back to sleep was the fact that it was a friday, and a sweet weekend lay ahead of me. 

 At 7:50 I made my way to my kitchen where my mother was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper intently. Grabbing a bagel and spreading cream cheese over it, I sat down next to her.

"Morning mother dearest" I said, smiling sweetly. She scowled at me before giving me a quick hug and checking her watch.

"Okay I really have to go now, please try to stay out of trouble today Elysia" I rolled my eyes and nodded as she made her way out of the door.

"I'm sleeping over at Leila's tonight by the way! I have this stupid history project to finish," I yelled after her, cursing inwardly as I thought of what I had to do. Surprisingly, history was my favorite subject at school, I just didn't enjoy actual schoolwork. Slinging my schoolbag over my shoulder, I finished my bagel and made my way out of the door, locking it behind me.  

Brooklyn's crisp spring air greeted me as I stepped out of the door. The last remainders of winter were fading away and flowers were starting to bloom. Though I had lived in the same apartment on the same street for my whole life, it somehow didn't get old. New York City was a place that never lost it's charm and I found new things to love about it every day. I put in my headphones and greeted the Arctic Monkeys' familiar sound as I made my way to school. As I rounded the corner, I saw him. He stood in his usual position, leaning lazily against his car. Though there were people around, he could have been noticed from a mile away, an aura of authority pulsating off him. His cropped, curly hair framed his golden face and he wore a plain black t-shirt over dark jeans and black boots, as usual. The figure's arms were crossed, accentuating his toned muscles as he leant against the car. As I looked up, I met his eyes, realizing he too had been staring at me from across the road. He smirked at me, before getting into the bentley and driving off. Why is he following me? I thought to myself again. I was terrified of him by now, but there was something that continuously drew me back. Who was he and what did he want from me? As far as I was concerned, I was the least interesting or extraordinary person to exist in the whole of New York City.  

It was the most cliched and generic story possible. I was a sixteen year old girl with a single mother, my dad ran out on us when I was 3 years old, and I haven't heard from him since. I'd lived in the same apartment since birth, I had a regular size group of friends and a 3.8 GPA. The only remotely interesting thing about me was that I was half Italian, but in Brooklyn, who wasn't?  

Mystery guy may as well have had 'trouble' tattooed across his forehead. As much as I was afraid of him, he was dangerously magnetic, and I needed to know who he was, and what he wanted. 

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