Grooving to Life's Beat

8 Miles Away

I got out of the cab, wind catching my long hair and billowing it behind me like a banner, while my white silk dress fluttered around my legs, dancing in the breeze like a delicate wisp of cloud. I was anxious; I was about to see Marshall tonight, and the thought of that made something in my stomach flip over.

But as soon as I got out on the street and watched the car drive away, a pang of panic swept over me. The meeting spot Angela had sent me to resembled a ghost town. The old, decrepit buildings were arranged in a row, their windows darkened and lifeless. Shadows grew long, and the air had a soft, nervous buzz. With its old buildings and industrial vibe, that part of New York seemed a world away from the bustling city center I was used to.

As I glanced around, my eyes searched for Angela, while I felt that knot of anxiety in my stomach. Is this the right place? I crossed my arms across my body and shivered, as if I could shake the feeling off. This didn't seem like the kind of place you just hung out at, especially by yoursel

"Emma!" The unmistakable sound of Marshall's voice calling my name spun me around so quickly, I almost lost my balance in these heels. My heart stopped for a brief second as I turned and saw him, leaning casually against a brick wall, looking like he owned the night. His clothes were dark as shadows, and yet somehow his eyes gleamed with the same intensity that always made me feel a little out of whack.

"Marshall..." I was able to say, surprised and relieved. "Where is everyone?" I said, somewhat confused, since I hadn't expected him to be here.

"Hey!" He peeled himself off the wall and walked a couple of steps over to me, his presence both forbidding and somehow comforting. A soft vibe radiated from his placid face and milky blue eyes, but was at odds with the spooky surroundings. "Everybody is inside already, and you're late!" he said, with a teasing but light tone.

"Sorry!" I shrugged, slightly self-conscious. "I had dinner with my parents ... I left as early as I could." His eyes roamed from my head to toe, taking in my outfit

"What are you wearing?" he asked, arching his eyebrows a little.

"A dress..." I hesitated, suppressing my disappointment. I was wearing a nice dress, I thought I looked cute, I wanted to impress him, but he just made me feel weird about it. "You don't like it..." The words escaped before my brain could intervene.

His eyes softened, and he smiled faintly. "You're beautiful," he mumbled, his trademark bravado slipping to reveal an uncommon shyness. It was something unusual for him, and it made my heart flutter. "But this is a clash, not a gala. This is not a fancy place, and the people are, let's just say, a little crazy." He was amused by it, clearly having a good time.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, feeling like an idiot. "Oh, I see..." I muttered, my voice barely audible.

He moved closer, his face shifting to serious but kind. "Just stay with me, and you'll be fine." His light blue eyes looked into mine and in that moment, the reassurance I would feel was immense. "Come on, we've got to move!" he said, grabbing my hand. His touch was like fire, crackling across my arm and sending my heart pounding even quicker.

We walked quickly, my heels wobbling over the unsteady pavement, but his hand warm and firm on mine, kept me steady. The excitement of being near him, the safety of his presence, the nerves of what lay ahead all blended in my head.

When we got to the end of the street, Marshall stood in front of a break in the brick wall that enclosed the property. It towered over me but was low enough to look over into a big yard where an abandoned building hovered in the distance. Ivy grew in patches on the wall, which had weathered to a rough, pillaged ruin of a wall — stripped, pockmarked, but almost pretty.