Chase

 

Metropolitan Avenue looked reticent and calm, holding a million little secrets and she was one of them.

“Sir, are you quite certain we’re in the right place?” Stanton, my fifty-two year old bodyguard and chauffeur sounded befittingly confused. It was a good thing he hadn’t noticed her. In his time, Stanton had seen everything from coked out rockstars to egomaniacal billionaires. But obsession with a beautiful woman that went beyond one-night stands was different, and Stanton was unprepared for it. Join the club, buddy.

I stepped out of the car and left my phone in the car so it wouldn’t get wet. Stanton watched in utter disbelief when I let myself get drenched in the pouring rain.

Williamsburg was infamous for a history of crime and crude poverty but then it became the quintessential hipster paradise. You don’t come here for the peace and quiet, you come here for the swanky tea houses and the exotic restaurants and to sink your teeth in rainbow bagels. If you are tired of success and everything it entails, you might even enjoy being in close proximity to some of the most talented failed artists and the allure of experiencing a life unique from your own.

She looks like a goddess. The street lights falling on her face creating a halo of purity and innocence.

People around here live life on their own terms. They even have their own idea of success. I’m aware of this because I’ve been here before, about a year back when I used to know someone who lived on Kent Avenue.

You need to go up to her.

You can’t just keep standing here…

Life in these parts was a complete opposite to what we experienced in East Village, and that sounded like a cliché but couldn’t be further from the truth. Live long enough and you’ll realize most clichés are fact. That people hardly went beyond their own stereotypes. Even the ones who thought they did; especially the ones who thought they did.

I need you.

 There was something about her that was beyond time and space. Incorporeal. She tore me away from reality and there was nothing I could have done. She forced me to step out of my head and pay attention.

But I was losing control.

I’d never had someone break my heart before with their sadness. And I don’t think anyone had ever looked that beautiful standing in the rain crying, her flaming red hair dampened to a darker shade and her eyes full of sorrow and a grieving hopelessness.

She looked so fragile, so unbelievably lost, and ethereal. The man who hurt her was a heartless pig.

I wanted to put my arms around her, and tell her everything was going to be okay.

Instead, I was on the opposite end of the road watching helplessly as she drowned heaven with those tears.

But it wasn’t just her sadness that was keeping me there.

It was the way she stood in the middle of that road with her head held high. There was something resilient and strong about her, I could sense it. She wasn’t as broken as she looked. Not that it would change anything. I had decided to be with her whether she let herself break or not. I didn’t care if her passion was in chasing dreams or building castles in the air. I simply wanted to love her and I wanted her to love me with the same conviction.

I wanted the outside of the Williamsburg bistro to be the beginning of our lives, lives that would only make sense if we were together.

If you knew who I was, if you truly knew the things that I’d done then you would know that this is not me. You would know that I don’t usually go around looking for women. I don’t have to since they all come to me. I don’t have the time or the desire to do things like that. The most time I’ve ever spent on a girl was when my high school girlfriend was in the hospital and I had to sit with her for a few hours so she would think I wasn’t a jerk and continue to sleep with me. But that was a different time and since then I’ve managed to find better and less tedious ways to keep having all the sex I want.

I’m no angel and I don’t want one. What I want is a devil whose crazy matches mine.

I want love that makes you question everything and forces you to face your desire. A love that hits you hard and leaves you breathless.

Like her.

I wanted to be there while she sorted through her misery and found her way to happiness, hell I wanted to be the one to bring that happiness to her. But I couldn’t do any of that without scaring her off because regardless of what I felt for her, there were rules to be followed, protocol to be maintained and I hated it but that was life.

If she knew what she meant to me, how much I wanted her, that I was dying to take her pain and make it my own she wouldn’t have been so unhappy.

There was no time to waste. When people stayed too long in abject misery, they were bound to have trouble finding their way back and that’s not what I wanted for her. I wanted her to live every moment like it was going to bring her fresh joy.

I wanted her to live each day with the freedom of knowing that happiness exists.

And I won’t let some heartless pig decide her future.

Most people underestimate me when it comes to dealing with pigs. They don’t know my history or my potential for ruining lives because most people when they see me, see what they want to see. They project whatever version they have of me and fail to look beyond their own prejudices. I become their ultimate fantasy or their ultimate villain. And I’m happy playing both parts. I’m happy being the person they can direct their anger at and I’m happy being the one who can give them hope. You should see the way the media talks about me sometimes, it’s almost like I don’t exist beyond their rampant imaginations.

As though I don’t exist beyond what they think of me. As though it doesn’t matter what happens to me so long as they get what they want.

They made me feel invisible. And then it occurred to me that being invisible wasn’t such a bad thing. That if I played my cards right I could use it to my advantage; and until today, I was fine with it. I was okay with all the ridiculous lies and half-truths they spread about me.

Until today.

She looked my way and I was afraid she could see right through me. My silent thoughts became cluttered and obnoxious.

There was still so much pain in her eyes.

I could tell the large bag within which she was carrying her belongings was becoming heavier as time passed. Her whole world contained in a pathetic bag—I could whisk her away to spend the night in Paris, make her forget every reason of her unhappiness in the span of one night but I knew she wouldn’t let go of the baggage.

All because of one cruel, weak man.

It angered me to think that no matter how much she hated him, it wouldn’t be easy for her to let go because that was the kind of person she was and she deserved a man who wouldn’t play with her heart.

But today she was in misery. Pain is funny that way. There was no telling when it would leave her and sometimes people got stuck with it for life and while I hoped that wasn’t her, it didn’t matter to me. I may not have been able to take her pain away just yet but at least I could take care of her.

I hoped she wasn’t going to let her past get in the way of her future, and I hoped she wasn’t going to be too broken to give life a chance.

Because I wanted to continue to not feel invisible, and she was the only person who made me feel like I was more than my image.

There was a man inside me waiting for the right girl to get through to my heart.

I knew she was my only chance at salvation.

So, I was going to do what I could and see if she was willing to give me a few minutes of her time, and if I was lucky enough, allowed me to comfort her.