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I need to get a closer look.
I look around cautiously, desperate to find a way closer to the front row. Slipping out of my seat, I scamper along the outside aisle of the theater. Everyone is fixated on my reason for existing. Her performance has captivated their attention the way she has captivated my life. I steady my breathing as I make my way closer.
Finally, I’m standing stage-right beside the seat at the end of the front row. She’s on her toes, arms outstretched, making her way directly toward me. I nearly reach for her but stop. Losing my nerve, I lock my arms at my sides. I can’t draw attention to myself.
It’s not the right time. She can’t see me yet. As she moves closer, her eyes drift to me. Her face is perfectly serene, and the tightness in my chest loosens some as I quickly step back into the shadows. As she moves in the other direction on stage, I make my way back to my seat.
I remain in my seat for the rest of her performance. That was way too close of a call to risk twice in one night. I thought it was time to rescue my princess, but I’ll wait for another day.
After the final curtain call and all the performers have left the stage, I stand and tuck the playbill carefully into my inside jacket pocket. I’m cautious not to crumple the napkin holding my princess’s sweet lips. Clandestinely, I make my way to the front and place my roses with my note on the stage.
I quickly exit the theater and head straight for the train station. Thankfully, the wait is short. Once I board the train and find a seat, I replay the night over and over in my mind, my playbill safely tucked with my napkin in my pocket. I can’t wait to add them both to my scrapbook when I get home.
Before I realize how much time has passed, we’re at the station nearest to my apartment. The late evening crowd is much smaller now than the ride downtown. The scuff on my shoe comes to mind again. I make a mental note to finish cleaning it off before I return it along with the tux to the rental place tomorrow.
I rush from the train station to my apartment, taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor. This apartment isn’t as nice as my old apartment. There’s no elevator or doorman, but at least it’s cheap.
I’m itching to add this playbill to my collection. I can’t wait to cut out the new picture of Nora from today’s paper and add it to my wall. Finally, apartment 211. I shove my key in the door and push it open. The meow of my cat greets me as I walk inside.
I lean down and pat her head gently. “There, there, Angel. Daddy’s home now.”
I quickly stand and rush to my bedroom. I change out of the tuxedo and shoes before getting into pajamas, careful to lay the tux out flat. I grab my scrapbook, my eyes taking in the outer cover, which is two pictures I meshed using photo editing software. One photo of her and one of me to create something beautiful. Just until we’re together and can take real photos.
The caption says Nora Reyes and David Miller Forever.
I carefully flip through the pages until I find a blank slot, then slip the newest playbill into the sleeve with the napkin that her perfect lips kissed next to it. I caress my fingers over them once more before closing the book and placing it back on my desk.
Nora’s beautiful face graces the front page of today’s newspaper as it lays beside the spot where I keep the scrapbook. I pick it up and look it over. Of course, there are other people from the cast there, too, but they’re of no consequence to me.
I open my desk drawer and retrieve my scissors before carefully cutting Nora from the rest of the group. I make slow, calculated cuts so I don’t damage any part of her image. With only a few more precise cuts, she’s free from the nobodies surrounding her.
Angel’s purring and weaving through my legs threatens my precision while cutting, but I gently shove her off to the side and continue my work. She’ll have to wait just a few more minutes.
I hold up Nora’s image in victory. I retrieve a pin from my desk to add this image to my wall. With the pin in one hand and the picture of Nora in the other, I take a few steps back to look for the perfect spot.
I have hundreds of pictures of her, both in color and black and white. Some are those I’ve taken, while others I clipped from newspapers. A smile pulls at my lips when I see the perfect spot. I step forward and place her picture on the wall amongst the others and gently slide the pin through the clipping and into the sheetrock.
“Yes, my dear, just the right angle. Your pouty lips await my kiss. Your eyes will be on me while I sleep,” I whisper to her image, adjusting the angle more.
Knowing I’ll have her here with me soon sends tingles rushing through my body. I back away from her pictures pinned along my wall and keep my eyes on hers in my newly acquired photo. As my calves touch the side of my bed, I sit softly while never losing focus on Nora’s eyes.
It’s nearly two in the morning; I should sleep.
Scooting to the top of the bed, I fold my legs to pull the blanket out from under me before covering myself. Angel jumps up beside me and curls into my side, purring softly as I stroke her fur. Finally lying still, I close my eyes and allow my dear princess’s image to float into my mind.
“Soon, sweet Nora, you’ll lie beside me.”
Chapter 1
SJ
I toss the rubber ball into the air, lightly tapping the ceiling before it falls back down into my waiting hands. I prop my feet up on my tidy desk, one ankle crossed over the other. Leaning back into my chair more, I toss the ball one more time before catching it and sighing.
I’m bored out of my mind. I need an assignment, like fucking yesterday.
“Yo! SJ! Where you at, man?” Liam calls out.
I roll my eyes. “In my office!”
