The Perfect Boy

Beyond the Moon and the Stars

Connor's POV

Flashback Continues

He squeezed my hand gently and he looked so gallant. He had spoken a few words only, but I assessed quickly - personality-wise, he was very audacious. And I didn't pull my hands away; rather, I squeezed his hand just as gently. Soft and delicate. I felt what I felt. No denying it. The heart could not be masked. I didn't put any effort in letting him go. He did finally.

We had a short staring contest. I felt electricity running through his hand to mine and my insides felt like dough rising. He felt uneasy at last. And, he blurted.

"Wooowww. That was impressive. I was totally mesmerized by your storytelling. I didn't know someone could have so much talent so as to hypnotizee the entire audience like that! I could hear a pin dropped."

"You are exaggerating," of course I agreed with him, I knew very well what I could do, I was sure I was blushing much, there was an aura of self-consciousness enveloping me for a reason unknown to me.

I was speechless.

"You know I didn't. You did great. You should do something with your talent! I am sure I was not the first person to say this to you. You know what, my heart leapt! Almost literally. And frankly, I teary-eyed in the middle of it. I could not remember the last time I did that for any reason, maybe probably when I was much younger."

I quickly inventorized his personality traits. This was natural for me to do, I do that to people I became acquainted with – I was a storyteller after all and a storyteller must be able to capture everything on the surface and underneath and he must allow himself to be immersed into the fantasy of having had an intimacy, for lack of a better word, with those he encountered, of course, so he could tell their stories. This person, this boy, was so forward, transparent. He wasn't afraid to show who he was. He was flamboyant and fully animated.

These qualities acted like a fluffy pillow.

His words snuggled me in comfort. They made me feel cozy. He knew his way with words also. Now I realized I was analyzing him and the impact of his words upon me. I should say how crazy my findings were.

"What was that that you were doing just now? You were telling stories to the kids, but is that your occupation? Don't you have school to go to?"

I didn't answer, just smiled. Too many thoughts crowding my mind.

"I am a storyteller, yes it is a job that I do here. I am not paid for it. I do it voluntarily."

He punched my arm. Happiness seemed bursting at the seams on his face hearing my reply.

"So, you are a storyteller? The first time I met one!" I smiled.

"What made you become one? You like what you do?"

"Nothing is more gratifying, nothing is more satisfying than to see smile and joy painted on the faces of those whom sadness and tears have made frequent visitations to." He gasped at my word, not knowing what to reply.  I continued to lure him in with my words, and he seemed to have taken the bait.

Later, we exchanged seemingly meaningless words, but I would remember every word later. After all, this was one encounter I would remember.

He grabbed my hand holding my cell phone and forced me to unlock it. I was hypnotized as I dutifully obliged. He wrote down his name and number and saved it.

"I gotta go. But I'll see you and we'll talk some more, ok? I want to know more about you." With those words he left.

His departure left me in suspense. I was analyzing myself for a reason. Why I was feeling this way. I had no clue.

I looked at my cell phone. He had saved his name and number.

Anthony.

Later, he texted me and told me that my story  lifted him  up to the moon, the stars and beyond, like he was in a fairy tale, a world of fantasy.