His only reason (Emblem 3 fanfic)

His only reason (Emblem 3 fanfic - Chapter 4)

The wind was picking up. As it neared night time, the streets became more vacant and the appeal of sitting down to catch my breath was alluring. I knew I couldn’t stop though, the show was in nearly an hour and I was yet to reach the venue.

I couldn’t help but think what the coincidence was that I met two appealing guys in less than an hour. What were the odds that me, Nadine, of all people would have the chance to do that? Back home, I’d be lucky if a guy even stopped to help me up given I dropped something, or fell myself. I was never seen as attractive, let alone given a chance to prove myself more than that quiet girl with the dead father.

Back home, I didn’t have many friends. Two, sometimes three, girls would invite me out to join in on their plans but I always felt like an outcast. Not because I’m weird or anything, because believe me I’m nothing extraordinary. I’m a writer, I’m lost in my own imagination half the time, reality can never pull me back. I’ve always been like this, writing short stories every few months whenever I could grab up a good enough idea.

I’m only 16-- too young for a full time job as a journalist, but old enough to know what I want to do with my life. Most people’s ambitions revolve around falling in love and growing up wealthy and successful. To be a soccer mom, and take care of four kids who roll around with a big, affectionate dog. I was never like that. I aspire to write, be featured in the New York Times or atleast make my mark on society through my work.

Demetri’s the one person who’s convinced me that the easy path, isn’t my destiny. After my father’s death, he was the shoulder I leaned on, even though he had barely a month before he had to return to the city to head off to college. He’s not a writer though, he’s an artist. I’ve told him before there’s no painting jobs out there, but he’s convinced me that once I become a best seller on the New York Times, he’ll be selling his paintings for millions in the galleria. I don’t doubt him though, you really can’t put a limit on a person’s imagination.

By the time I reached East 4th, I was two blocks away, and slowed down my pace. I was lost in my thoughts for so long, I hadn’t realized how fast I was pacing. I stopped against a street corner to catch my breath, and lean my head back against the cold brick stand. My eyelids shut, and I puffed out a sigh of relief. The city was so fast moving- it was unfamiliar to stop, and really take in your surroundings. Life is fast, you don't have the opportunity to slow it down, atleast not for long. My nose twitched as the scent of cinnamon slowly neared my senses, and I could feel a cold breath down on the corner of my neck. The hairs on my arms raised, and I shot open my eyes to be greeted by an  un welcomed lanky man, dark brown eyes beating into my skin.

I gasped, and took a quick turn off of the wall, and paced forward, jaywalking across the street to the venue. As I continued jogging, I could hear quicker footsteps following in my tracks, and the outline of a finger run down the outline of my spine.

I ran. And believe me, I’ve never been much of a runner. But once your adrenaline begins to rush, you suddenly become an Olympic athlete and the whole world just flies past. “Nadine, wait!” I paused in my thoughts.How would this stranger know my name? How would ANYONE know who I was? I kept running though, and the footsteps behind me followed, but at an even faster pace.

“Go away!” I screamed, not daring to look back as I dodged the oncoming business men leaving their work. “Wait, Nadine, please!”

As I turned the corner which led me to East 5th, I heard the footsteps behind me vanish, and I took a final glance behind my shoulder. I started to walk, but kept my focus behind me, heart racing. I felt myself run into an oncoming person, and turned to say sorry only to be greeted by a man hidden beneath what seemed to be the same black hood I had seen earlier.

My heart raced, and I froze as he uncovered his face. It was Demetri. “Why are you freaking out? The show’s starting in a half hour, we have to get back on line and catch up!” I recognized his familiar minty cologne, it wasn’t the same cinnamon scent I’d smelt earlier. “You’re right. Let’s go.” 

Author's Note: Hope you liked this chapter. I won't be on tomorrow, have to catch up on schoolwork because of the hurricane. I'll post the next chapter tuesday, I have off from school. Leave feedback please, definitely motivates me to continue writing :) x