new york dreaming
- Reads 42
- Votes 5
- Parts 2
Ongoing7m
Last published Wed, Dec 18, 2013
new york dreaming // prologue Blair's Point of View: What is he doing back here? In New York? Why can't I move? Why can't I just walk over to him and say something? Anything? Oh, that's right. It's because the last time I saw Mitchell Baker, I told him that I deserve someone better than him. He let me go without a fight and I think that hurt more than losing him did. As I stare across the crowded train station in New York City, I wonder to myself why my palms are so sweaty and my knees feel weak. I haven't even talked to him in 23 months. Nearly two whole years. But I know exactly why I feel this way. It's because I, Blair Bennett, am still madly in love with Mitchell Baker. When the train finally arrived, I feel very relieved. I feel relieved about the fact that I no longer have to stand in this hot, crowded train station. I feel relieved that I no longer have to watch every girl in a mile radius ogle over Mitchell. And I also feel relieved that I can go home and act like I never even saw Mitchell here at all. Just as I put one foot on the train, I hear something that makes me stop in my tracks and makes my heart rate pick up. "Blair!" I never thought I would hear that voice say that name ever again.
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Familiarity
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Don't Look Back
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I walked on the nearly empty bus in New York City, which was very rare. It was the middle of the night and this was the last train going around the tracks. It was only me in the car for a few stops. I was hiding my face with a hoodie. I had my headphones in when he walked in. I looked up and our eyes met. He looked familiar and I quickly looked away. He's probably a fan and followed me. I probably met him at a meet and greet, at least that's what I thought. I felt a presence next to me and looked up to see the green/blue eyes that were so familiar. I took one of my earbuds out. "Hi?" I asked. "Hey. If you don't mind me asking, but where are you from?" He asked. "Let me know your name first." I said still cautious. I paused my music and wrapped the earbuds around my phone and put it in my pocket. "Denzel Weller." He said holding out his hand. "Rose Pitcher." I told him taking his hand. He looked so familiar. His name tried to break through a wall in my memories. I looked around us to see that there was one person left on the train besides us. I took my hood off revealing my turquoise hair. I just got it done and that's what I'm going to my hotel from. "So, where are you from?" He asked me. "We say where we're from at the same time." I told him. He nodded. "1.....2.......3!" I said. "LA." We said at the same time. I looked at him surprised. I took a closer look at him. He looked like he was around the same age as me, 21-22. I studied his features. He had smaller than average ears, an average sized nose, a strong jaw line, short medium brown hair, and then his eyes. I stared into his eyes and saw that they held familiarity.
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