The Quiet Guys

Chapter 4

I woke up in a glamorous room, situated in a fine penthouse. I could see a balcony outside the sliding glass doors and a fabulous view of the city below. I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes and yawning deeply as I began to realise I was in someone else's home. A blazer jacket, far too large for me, was wrapped around my shoulders- the jacket was made of cashmere and insulated my little body well. The scent aroused my senses as sandalwood and sea salt crept up my nose and my heart fluttered at the smell. Inside the pockets were cigars with rubies encrusted inside of them and rolls of cash bound with silver bands. A steel lighter sat in the bottom inside pocket, and sunglasses were tucked in a pouch in another. I stared at all of the luxuries put before me- who on earth rescued me?

I looked around and stood up: my head hurt and my vision was still slightly blurry, yet I stumbled into the kitchen best I could. I grabbed a glass and clumsily fumbled for the tap when a hand touched mine. A large hand. A strong hand. A man's hand. I jumped back like a spooked cat and for the first time saw my rescuer. It was him: tall, perfect hair, green eyes. My stomach flipped over. "It's y-you... you." He stepped towards me. "So you remember?" I nodded, watching his muscles flex as he moved. "Next time, try not to get in harms way darling." I continued to stare at him as his face looked troubled. "It would be a terrible waste." Why I felt a connection to this man, I don't know- could it have been his appearance, his mysterious personality, his affluent life, I don't know. I just knew that he was something more than a guy I would only meet once.

He handed me a full glass of water, and my hands trembled as they touched with his. It felt like electricity shooting up my hands through my body. I sipped from the cup gently, never realising how thirsty I really was. Then I took a larger and longer sip, closing my eyes as I swallowed the cold liquid. I stopped to look up: he was calm and collected, but staring at me. I felt like some wild animal in a cage with onlookers- he watched my every move. I placed the glass on the granite countertop and patted my mouth dry with my hand. "Well," I began. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I think I best be going now." My stomach filled with butterflies as he continued to look at me with his entrancing green eyes. "I barely did a thing darling, don't even think of it." I smiled weakly as I went to turn around and leave until I felt his body next to mine again. The buzzing heat between us never ceased, and my cheeks went flushed. I knew he was trying to say or do something, but I rushed out of the door and shook off my hungry feeling for his touch again before he ever could.

Sheltering my face, I walked down the great buildings stairs to the lift and did my best to cool off my flushed cheek in the lift. Once I had reached the bottom floor, I brushed myself off and exited the building to the buzzing streets of London. I froze as snobby rich people stared at me in disgust; I never realised I was in Knightsbridge of all places. I stopped and took a deep breath. I cut down an alley to avoid the prying eyes and glares, but as I tucked my hands in the suit's pockets and hung my head low I heard a twig snap. Alarmed, I looked up and clenched my hands into fists. Someone brushed past me. I didn't see their face but they felt awfully cold. Dangerous perhaps...

I arrived at my apartment and sighed deeply; what a morning. I called in sick from school and it looked like Cher had already left as the place was quiet as a mouse. I switched on the television, only to see more deaths splayed across the screen. What a fabulous world I lived in. After making a cup of tea I sat back down on the sofa and attempted to switch the channel. No matter which network I switched to death was all I saw. The world was only concerned with one thing: what was wrong. I was fed up at that point, so I switched off the TV and decided to read a book instead. Hours went by like minutes and I eventually found myself at the end of my book and drenched in darkness. I stretched, got up and switched on a lamp as I went to get ready for my night job. After I was dressed I looked out the window at the lit up streets- it was so beautiful at night.

I stepped out on to the cold street of the night, and looked around. I was stunned. The once buzzing and vibrant city centre of London was dead as a mouse. Silence invaded the streets. A chill invaded my body. I walked down the street warily, and started to go off towards where I worked- the booming music suggested that it wasn't shut down yet, and I sighed in relief. I walked up to the bar, about to smile at Joe when a security guard grabbed my arm and escorted me to the VIP room. I forgot about that. Another thing to think about.

I attempted to get him off of me when I said "Let me go! Why are you holding me?" When we arrived at the VIP room door he looked down at me. His brutish face and strong build easily suggested why he was a body guard. "There isn't a reason I can provide at the moment. I must keep you safe- that's all." He nudged me into the door and stood by the inside of it himself, watching me walk away to the stage. I always found him so strange- protecting me and refusing any money I offered or barely speaking. It was awfully stereotypical. I kept my head down as I changed backstage and did my makeup and hair for the performance. The usual unfriendly glares circulated around me as I anxiously got ready, and once I was done I stood behind a clothing rail to avoid any unnecessary questions.

The show went on, whoops and cheers circulated just like every night and I went home with far more money than I had walked in with every time. I never saw him- with every dance I did I thought of his face, hoping he would be in the crowd somewhere. But he never was.

The days turned into weeks, the streets became quieter and the death count only grew. After two weeks had gone by I started to listen to the names of the fatalities- I was praying for it to not be my mother. I wasn't considering the rest. Why would I when they didn't ever think of me?

The night was in November. People had fireworks cracking, and bottles of champagne popping as the celebrated Guy Fawkes defeat over and over again. I didn't bother celebrating- Cher stopped being her cheery self for some reason, so there wasn't much to look forward to then anyway. That night the dancing theme was fire, and the clothing and accessories I was wearing were almost too heavy to move in; that caused snickers from the other dancers here and there. I sang the best I could, and the tips were very generous as usual. I just felt so empty, like every day was the same and nothing was going to change. I was very wrong.

I rushed back stage, changed out of my ridiculous attire and headed for the door when a hand went on to my shoulder. My body sparked and my face went hot. It was him again. I just knew it was. "Darling," He began. "Something to know: never run when I come along."