City Of Evil

Crossroads // Ch. 2

        "Matt!" Mel said poking the man's massive bicep.

        He looked down at her, "Oh, hey Mel." He smiled.

        Oh. God. This man was even more gorgeous than I was hoping. He had adorable dimples that were like two twinkling stars and his bright smile connected them like constellations. A ring rested on one side of his pink lips that framed his perfect smile. He had short hair that revealed his hazelly green eyes and his medium-sized stretched ears. Both of his large, muscular arms where cloaked in beautiful tattoos.

        "I wanted you to meet my best friend from high school," she introduced, "Scarlett Miller."

        His gaze fell heavy on my face, "Oh, so you're the trouble maker Mel tells stories about." He smirked holding out his large hand, begging for a handshake.

        I smiled taking his hand, " Well, I guess so!" His strong grip loosened as he gently shook my hand, almost like he feared to injure me or something.

        "I've heard lots of things about you..and apparently you're like Mel's only friend that's a girl." He joked.

        "Hey! I'm standing right here!" Mel wined sarcastically.

        He mocked, "Well, all I hear is 'Scarlett this! Scarlett that!" He laughed nudging me, "She's really been missing you."

        "I missed her too." I smiled, "Oh, and you can call me Scar if you want. It's easier, I guess." 

        "Alright," he grinned, "Scar."

        A couple hours flew by like minutes, and Mel had long ago abandoned the two of us. Matt and I found ourselves leaning against a porch railing gazing at the smoggy, LA sky. Not a single star in sight, other than the ones on Hollywood of course. The porch light gave off a subtle yellow glow just bright enough to trace Matt's strong jawline. 

        He nudged me, "So, what's your thing?"

        "What do you mean?" I asked, genuinely confused.

        "Like, what are you into? What are you good at?" He asked taking his eyes away from the sky and locking them on my face. 

        I sighed, "Hmm..well, I have lots of hobbies."

        "Tell me about them." He insisted.

        "Well, I love to draw and write and make music. I've been playing guitar since I was 15 and singing since was old enough to talk." I opened up.

        "Aahh. An artistic type." He smirked, "I like that."

        I blushed in the darkness, "What about you? What do you do?"

        He turned to the sky and sighed, "It's a long story."

        I pulled up my sleeve and looked at my invisible watched, "Well, I've got all night."

        He chuckled, "Alright, pretty little girl. Make yourself comfy."

        He started off slow from the beginning, telling me about his childhood and how much pressure his parents put on him to be a good kid. He got tired of it, so he started drinking and ditching school. He got into a lot of fights and eventually his parents kicked him out. That's when he got into music. Passion filled his hazel eyes as he described how music effected him. I admired the way his eyes sparked. He went on to talk about his band, making me a tad jealous of his talent.