Colors of Paris ◇ Elijah Stevenson

Chapter Thirty Seven

I glance from my left and right. The crowd is gathering together and instead of giving them a show, I walk away from there. I walk past Elijah and Luke who both are trying to get my attention.

I walk past the crowd and one of the people in that crowd is Drake Manson. I try to not picture him being like Mason. I try my hardest as I place my hands in my hair.

Whenever you see someone that looks just like a person you liked, loved, (whatever the fuck it was)....it messes with you. And when you hear that certain someone was dead...

It messes with you even more.

I breathe in and out as I walk faster out of the hotel. My heels clank and clack against the concrete stairs. I guide down them faster as I place one of my hands on the railing of the outside entrance.

With each step, I know Elijah is right behind. I know that is chasing me as I am walking faster.

I go deeper in my mind and wonder where the heck I went wrong. There probably was many times I went wrong. Many wrong things that could have been prevented. And this was one of them.

Poor Mason. He didn't deserve any of this. Why is he gone? Is he gone?

"Mads!" The yell becomes obsolete as I take off my heels and start running. I don't dare look behind me as they are probably right on my neck but instead the yells become distant and I am replaced with an image of Mason.

His tall figure as he was seductive right away. His arm was stretched out for me and I take mine underneath his, "I'm sorry I am not usually like this."

I laugh out a simple giggle and look down at my feet. The street is cold against them yet I don't mind as he makes me look back up at him.

"Oh you mean drunk?" his smile shows a toothy grin. Not even a white smile. A good smile. The smile that can make you laugh or smile yourself. A contagious smile.

His eyes are beading as he smiles. The wrinkles around his eyes make it even better as if being tired couldn't be more beautiful.

"Well I am here. You are gonna be okay?" he asks me as we fully make the exit out of the bar.

Why did I come here in the first place? What was I thinking? Greg and I got in a fight earlier today but if I know Greg at all, he will forgive me. He will forgive me for what I have hidden from him and so what?

What if he doesn't....

"You look really bad...here." he puts his arm around my shoulder and makes me lean against him as we walk, "where are we going?"

I laugh, "well shit we can go back to your place,"he gives me a cheeky grin again but shakes his head.

"No. As much as you are sexy, you are also really drunk. I would rather get to know you when you are....not as much," he whispers.

The cold concrete begins to make my feet burn. This time I am not drunk so the pain is not put away. And this time I am not in the presence of a beautiful guy. I am in the presence of a destination.

To get the hell away from here. As far as possible would be the best option. Maybe Florida. Yeah Florida is hot and humid. Great. So far away from home. So far away from here.

"Maddi!"

This time it is closer to me. And the person saying it isn't who I thought it was. The person grabs my hand and pulls me backward. I beat the guy's chest back and forth anyway. In complete anger and fury, I would care less who it was. If it was a stranger or not, which I already know it isn't a stranger.