Renaissance

Chapter 20

Greyson Chance had no game plan.

Greyson Chance was not the type of person to plan meticulously. That much was obvious. It was inherent in his personality to follow the inexplicable part of a person known as the intuition. All through the years, it had been a good policy. It was what defined his music - anything that came to mind, completely inspired. And it was what had brought him thus far; what had led him to impulsively jump on a plane halfway across the country. (Then again, the prospect sounded suspiciously familiar enough to have been learned from a certain special girl.)

Now, however, he was cursing his impulsivity because he was at the moment rather at a loss of what to do. Previously, he had gotten lost while driving to Dunbar from the airport in a rented car. (Not a Herbie, thankfully.) The long roads winded around forests and the longer he travelled, the fewer cars he saw. He had stopped countless times to stare in exasperation at his surroundings which he could make neither head nor toe of.

Pennsylvania was a beautiful place, really. He would have stopped longer to appreciate and admire God's magnificent creation had it not been for that blasted girl who all but filled his mind.

Just as he was about to give up and drive his car off a cliff, he saw a sign in the distance. The overgrown grass was obscuring its poles and a bit of the board itself, but he could just make out the word 'Dunbar'.

He had never been so grateful to see a road sign in his entire life.

But the relief was short-lived. Indeed, he had finally found his way to Dunbar. However he had completely no idea what he was going to do to somehow find Melodie in this town, even if it was a rather small one at that.

He wandered the streets of Dunbar mindlessly, his car crawling smoothly, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the place and every person. The roads were largely quiet, with people strolling along the worn, grey pavement. Rolling down the window, he propped his elbow on the door and stuck his head out, feeling the crisp breeze of the approaching winter.

∞

Eventually he tired of scouring the streets with absolutely no glimpse of the girl he had not seen for over a year now. Even his car seemed to agree, letting out a worn purr. With a sigh, he slowed the already exhausted car and pulled up to the curb in front of an old but quaint coffee shop. An ornate sign with the words 'Java Hut' carved on it hung from the edge of the roof.

Despite the fact that he was wearing his favourite coat, the chill was starting to get to him as the sun was about to set. A little bell dangling from the top of the door tinkled happily when he entered hastily, shivering slightly. He slid into a booth next to the window.

A waiter walked over. "Good evening! What would you like?"

"Just a hot vanilla latte, thanks," he replied.

"Sure, coming right up," the waiter nodded, turning on his heel to walk briskly back to the counter. Greyson tuned out the low hum of chatter in the café and turned his attention to staring out at the window. The peak hour was picking up - if it could really be called a peak hour, considering how small the town was - and the bulk of people on the sidewalk was thickening.

He didn't know how long he'd zoned out for, but the next thing he knew, the waiter was standing at his table, calling him. Snapping out of it dazedly, he glanced at the large mug sitting before him, steaming and fragrant. He dug in his pocket to fish out a ten-dollar bill while the world around him blurred in and out of focus, sounds registering to him again. He heard the tinkling of the bell and the calling of a goodbye from the waiter beside him.

His hand had been held out toward the waiter, handing him the bill and about to tell him to keep the change, when from the corner of his eye he caught a flash of honey blonde hair.

Jerking up from the booth, he tore out of the shop on impulse, leaving the mug of coffee almost barely keeping from toppling over on the table and the bill flying out toward the waiter, who jumped back bewilderedly.

Greyson dashed out of the café, not caring about the sudden bite of cold air, only looking frantically over the heads of the crowd he had not seen thicken to this point. The glimpse of blonde hair was gone, disappeared among the mass of people moving on the sidewalk. He tried pushing through the crowd, but quickly gave up when there still was no hopeful sign.

He turned to trudge back to the café. He hadn't known why his instinct had spiked up to just run after whoever it was. There were a lot of people who had blonde hair.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder - and more desperate.

Had his head not dropped then, he might have seen the same head of honey blonde hair in a cab that drove right past him on the sidewalk just then. And the distance increased by the second between the two individuals, both of whom did not know that they had just been a mere five feet away from each other.

∞

Remember when we slept together at your grandmother's house?

It was like that for the one or two weeks we spent at Ireland. Initially you insisted on placing a barrier of pillows between us. It was so funny because when we were lying in bed together I would knock the pillows down and you ended up being buried in the pillows and I would roll on top of you and you would scream at me to get off. Randy would yell at us from the hallway to "keep it down" and you would blush like mad and I would shout in reply "she can't control herself" and you would blush harder and try to hit me but you couldn't because I was lying on top of you with the pillows. But even on those nights I would go to sleep debating within myself whether or not to just screw the barrier.

Then one night I did.

It was the night you told me everything about your past. We rode back on the horse and you were so exhausted you were half-asleep and I had to carry you to our room. It made me think of things I probably shouldn't have - a couple on their honeymoon, for instance - but the funny thing was I didn't mind it as much as before because the feeling of having you in my arms was just too irresistible. I held you perhaps too close to myself because I was afraid to drop you.

Then I laid you in bed and wondered if I should put up the pillow barrier but then I looked at you and I forgot all about the barrier. Perhaps because I didn't want it there. I just got in bed with you and you were already fully in dreamland mode and the look on your face was absolutely endearing. My body seemed to have a mind of its own - but then again my mind probably wasn't working then, I could only feel my heart beating strongly yet steadily and calmly - and my arms reached out to hold you again and I drew you to me. Wrapping my arms around you was one of the greatest things I had ever felt. You were so soft and beautiful and fragile and delicate and everything all at once. Then I thought of how you cried at the cliff and my heart wrenched in my chest and I pulled you closer to where that ache was thinking both of how you made me forget every ache and also of how I wanted to protect you from everything that had ever hurt you. Because you thought you weren't good enough but darling you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.