Beads of sweat trickled down my bare back, whether from the lack of air conditioning or nervousness I felt, I don't know. Eyes were on me, some only glancing, while others openly gawked. I felt nauseous and disgusted with the looks from the crowd, and I wish I was anywhere but here.
If only I could escape this four-walled cage I was stuck in- but I knew that if I even attempted to escape, he'd drag me back inside, even if he had to use force.
Though it was rather hot, the crowd still was in their very best, the men wearing suits and the women in luxurious gowns. They were all chatting amongst themselves speaking about how excited they were to bid on these precious items.
The lights grew dimmer, and soon the spotlight was on us. An older man, with a gray, curled mustache walked up to the podium and greeted the crowd.
"Thank you for coming to our annual auction ladies and gentlemen. On this glorious night, we'll be starting off the auction with our first prize- aren't we little lady?" he turns to face me and winks.
My mouth is dry, and I feel myself loose the ability to speak. The auctioneer shrugs his shoulders and returns to the crowd.
"She's a bit shy, but don't worry folks, that doesn't take anything away from 'er. Now," he smirked at the crowd deviously, "let's start the bidding."
My heart beats frantically, and I would love for more than anything to run off this stage, but I can't, so I stand on stage, legs shaking and all.
"Do I hear five hundred dollars?" Two hands are raised. "One thousand?"
And as the bids kept rolling along, the room became a war, each side wanting the grand prize. And as the crowd kept throwing their money around, a slight disgust sprouted inside herself.
"Fifteen thousand, what about sixteen thousand anyone? No? Okay, fifteen thousand going once, twice-"
"Twenty thousand dollars!" a masculine voice in the back of the room yelled.
"Twenty thousand?" the auctioneer looks at me gobsmacked, and I give him the same exact look. Who in the world just made that bid?
"I don't believe that I stumbled," the man stepped forward more towards the light, allowing me to see his face, and my goodness, he was one of the most hottest guys I had ever seen. He had brown curly locks and the face of a god.
"Okay then," the auctioneer hesitantly spoke, "Twenty thousand, going once," nobody raised the bid, "going twice," all hands stayed down, "sold! The prize for this one ladies and gentlemen goes to the curly-haired man! You're prize will be given to you at the end of the auction, after you've paid," he announced to the crowd.
And with that, the auctioned continued on until the very last item was sold.
"On behalf of the foundation, we'd like to thank everyone for coming out tonight and bidding, buyers you may now come up to collect your prize and pay your money that's due!"
Everyone stood up from their seats and began to leave the building. I close my eyes, trying to maintain my breathing, and I tell myself that it's almost over, repeating the same sentence again and again in my mind, even though I know it's not really true.
When I open my eyes though, I can feel my heartbeat spark right back up to where it originally was, because the curly, brown haired man, is standing in front of me.
My jaw drops slightly open when I realize the proximity between us.
"Hi," he greets. "My name's Harry, I'm the one who bought..." He trails off looking at me. I immediately stop staring at him, and clear my throat as best as I can.
"Yeah, I guessed that," my voice still comes out pretty hoarse.
Silence engulfs us for a few seconds before I'm brave to ask the question that's been on my mind.
"Why?"
I guess the question catches him off guard because he looks surprised, but it only takes a short amount of time for him to answer.
"Because you're the most beautiful girl in this room and I needed a reason to talk to you."
My cheeks get red but I still have to say it.
"Let me get this straight. You needed a reason to talk to me, so you bought my half-assed painting for twenty thousand dollars?" I stare at him with an incredulous look on my face.
"If you say it that way, I guess it seems a bit creepy, sorry about that," he scratched his head sheepishly.
"I'd say that it came off as level 5 creepy stalker."
"Ouch," he laughed, the dimples in his cheek more prominent than ever. "Is there anyway I could I make up for it? A free coffee?"
"A free coffee, huh? And just who would be with me to get this coffee, you speak of?" she winked playfully.
"Hopefully that weird level five stalker dude."
I take a look at Harry and grin.
"How does Saturday at two sound?"
