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Epilogue
They call him the Dark Prince.
Rumor has it that he has the blackest pair of eyes anyone has ever seen. And equally black hair.
Although, no one can say for sure because he always has his helmet on – it’s a big, black thing that hides his entire face, and he leaves right after the show. He isn’t much for the fanfare or stuff like that.
Nope. He’s all about the bike.
The bike he calls Blue.
He can do a wheelie with his eyes closed and he can fly over holes. When he’s in the air, he flips his bike like it weighs nothing. The crowd goes wild over him, chanting and screaming out his stage name.
Tonight, he’s going to take a ride on the wall of death.
It sounds ominous and I swear it is with the way I’m shaking at just the thought of it. It’s a well type thingy where the bikers start at the bottom, slowly gaining speed as they circle and circle. Until they gain enough momentum to ride parallel to the ground.
It’s supposed to be based on a very simple principle of physics but I wasn’t into science much back in school.
It all feels like magic to me. A magic that can go wrong at any time.
Although, Zach’s been practicing for it for weeks now. I’ve seen him do it and he does it beautifully.
Even so, I’m nervous.
I guess I’ll always be nervous when he goes on stage. He’s the most precious thing in the world to me.
He’s the love of my life.
And I’m waiting for him at the rink, hanging over the railing, getting jostled in the crowd, impatient for him to come out. He’s the last one to go on and it feels like I haven’t seen him for days. When I only saw him a few hours ago at the house we’re staying in for the next few weeks.
We’re in Vegas for the carnival where he’s performing. His friends from New York tipped him off and now, we’re sharing an apartment with them.
They are a good bunch; I met them a couple of days ago when we arrived. Although, Zach gets a little territorial when they talk to me. He’s asked me to stay away from them and be by his side all the time.
I usually roll my eyes at him when he gets this jealous and tell him he isn’t the boss of me. And he proceeds to prove me wrong by playing with my body like he owns it.
He does. I’ve no shame or reservations in admitting that.
I own him too.
And now, I’m getting all sorts of turned on, standing in the middle of the crowd. I can’t wait for him to come out and be done with it so we can go back and be alone.
He gets all sweaty and impatient after one of his shows.
Although, in all fairness, this is only the second one I’ll see him perform for a crowd. Last time was at a carnival like this in New York. That show was wild. We were there for about a week and every night was amazing.
I still can’t believe how popular he is with the crowd. How people chant for him and how girls go crazy.
That, I don’t like and I’m glad he isn’t interested in fame or whatever.
He’s only interested in me.
He shows me that every day. He’s been showing it to me for the past six months, ever since he got down on his knees and asked me to give him a chance.
We decided to stay in Blue Dot because we both love the place. The cold weather, the mountains, the lake. There’s so much sky there and everything is so wide and open and blue.
It feels like freedom.
