Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 1: Firestarter

Love has always been one of those monumental constructs of our society, that through its ubiquitous and stoic nature, seemed in equal measure terrifying and exciting. At least in my own subjective reality. Whether it'd be an involuntary drift of my thoughts during a dreary English hour, or the long minutes, hours laying in bed filled with wishful thinking, the thought of who might he be, and more importantly, if I would ever get the chance to cross his path, plagued my thoughts with ardent consistency.

Yet while waiting for red to turn to green, and afterwards when I hit the gas and enjoyed the fleeting freedom cruising down a large boulevard could elicit, he was the furthest thing off my mind.

But just as the laws of life dictate, a conventional glance in my rear-view mirror and a flash of silver opened the doorway to tens, if not hundreds of possibilities simultaneously. Had I known back then, I would have most likely been flabbergasted, overwhelmed and maybe, just maybe, I would've hit the brakes before this whole ordeal could've even been set in motion. Instead, a more naïve and much less weary version of myself believed a daring smile to match the blinding silver of his car, a BMW just like mine, was a fitting challenge and an experience worth texting about later.

So instead, engine revving, we raced down the almost empty boulevard, mellow sunshine melting into shadow, headlights lighting up the path beyond as my speed meter neared and surpassed the hundred with such carelessness it felt surreal, adrenaline and the warmth his  smile filled me with coursing through me like lighting.

And even when we stopped at a red light, hitting the brakes so hard the momentum made my safety belt pull me back just with a sharp tug, I didn't think about him as more than a fleeting mirage, a small distraction from my mounting real issues. Not even when he rolled down his window, goofily gesturing for me to reciprocate, and I obliged, a loud rich laugh carrying over the sound of the idling engines did I think much of our encounter, and what it could mean. Despite his sunglasses and baseball cap, his beauty was unmistakable in the sharp lines of his jaw, sharpness of his cheekbones, and plushness of his lips.  "I can't say if I'm more ashamed to be beaten by a girl in a race, or that I don't know your name, yet I seem to have already become entranced by you." He talked casually, as if he was merely stating the weather to a friend and not flirting with a complete stranger in a busy intersection.

Momentarily stunned by my realisation of being flirted with, I instinctively looked around me, wondering if it really was me who he was talking to before quickly catching myself, cheeks flaming. Apparently, not quickly enough for it to go unnoticed, and I was rewarded by a quirk of lips.

"Do you really expect me to give my name to a complete stranger?" I strained to say loud enough to be heard over the din, despite the knot forming in my throat from talking to a stranger. And a ridiculously attractive one for that matter. But I no longer had this whole attention. He rather seemed more focused on something currently in his lap which he was now furiously scribbling on.

Before I could allow my thoughts to drift and wonder if I had said the wrong thing for the millionth time.He lifted his head back up and before I could say another word, forcefully chucked a small ball of paper across and into my car. "As you now have my name and phone number, I surely qualify as an acquaintance at the very least, which surely deserves to get a name in return?"

If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked hopeful and inoffensive, and as a matter of fact, in that one moment, I didn't and took a leap of faith, as I'd seen my friend do countless times. It had served her well enough, so why wouldn't it work for me. But before I could honour his request, the lights stubbornly turned green, incessant honking enough to make me go cold all over and forget whatever I had wanted to say.

As he sped off, and I followed, I didn't once think there the timing of the lights turning green was a bit too perfect, his actions too gallant, his flirting too uncalled for. All I could think of, or rather feel, was the heat of his eyes on my skin, like the feel of the sun on my skin just before it starts to burn. And so, a simple two letters in a text sent on a whim sealed my fate: Hi :).