Glass Hearts || Noah Sebastian

4.

Noah's POV

   "Give a round of applause for, Blair"

   All black nylon outfit hugging her minuscule frame, it covers everything from her groin to her chest, just sheer enough to see the perfect outline of it all. My eyes dart to where she wiggles her hips, her strawberry blonde hair whipping in the air as she begins to twirl around the metal pole that sits in the middle of the stage. Her light eyes clasped shut with each turn she makes. I never thought anyone could make dancing to Jonathon Davis sexy, but I am proven wrong tonight. She finds the slow tempo and dominates the rhythm with each sway of her legs, each twist of her hips.

   "Damn. She's fucking hot" Folio calls out over the loud music. His body leaning up against the bar as he speaks, sipping from his fourth mixed drink of the night.

  Running her hands up her petite body, stopping at her chest.

  I nod my head in half agreement, not speaking as I take a swing from my own drink. He's been on a bit of a binder the last two nights, but I can't blame him. It's the first few days in what feels like ages that we are off long enough to enjoy our time.

  I give my attention to the girl on stage, watching as she crawls her way up to the end of her platform. She allows her light locks to fall over her face, concealing her pouty mouth and ocean eyes as she scans the crowd. Once her eyes make their way to me they lock and there's a warm familiarity about them. I can't quite make it out, nor can I put my finger on it but it almost feels like I know the blue streams staring at me.

  She makes her retreat quickly, taking her rightful spot back on the pole as she begins to do tricks. Using the strength in her legs and arms to climb up the height of it, dropping down as her legs carry her into a spin.

  I study her, trying to figure out where I could
possibly have recognized the bombshell from. Normally I'd chalk it up to deja vu, but that isn't a good enough excuse this time. A small voice nagging me in the back of my head telling me it's more than just that.

  I watch.

  Her slim pale legs covered almost entirely in sheer nylon stockings, the same with her arms and chest. But the more I study the more I take in. A few undeniable freckles along her chest and legs, the beauty marks she tried to cover up with thick foundation and finally the tattoo on her forearm. The same generic rose and clock design she got when we were 18. As soon as the see the bold ink stand out proudly from under her gloves. All the blood rushing from to my head as I feel my body ignite with numbing tingles.

  Veronica.

  My mouth going dry as I watch her quickly make her way backstage. Not bothering to pick up the scattered bills that were carelessly thrown at her. My body stiff with expectancy as she vanishes and I try to wrap my head around all the events that have happened in the smallest amount of time.

    "Noah. Are you good, dude?" I hear Nick call out, his voice eager, making it seem like he has been trying to get my attention for some time now but I have been lost in thought.

   "Yeah, I'm good" I say as I turn myself around and shake my head. I must be imagining things. I'm sure there's a million girls with the same tattoo running around. I imagine it's a fairly common design, it's usually up on display at any tattoo parlor you walk into. My scattered mind is only using it to justify my irrational thinking. I see her face everywhere, in every girl who mimics her, or her attributes ,even in the slightest. It's just my wishful thinking, hoping to find her one day.

  "You look like you have seen a ghost" Jolly remarks after he takes back a shot of whiskey. His face puckering up with distaste as soon as it hits his stomach.