The sound of the cheering crowd pierced my ears. Brown pigeons were picking tiny bread around us, flew away at the loud applauses, lending on the opposite street. Coins ringed through the small bucket in front of our open guitar case. I couldn't help but grin at the sound of it as it kept reaching my ears.

"Yo man, we are making a lot of money," said Troy as he tapped my shoulder with excitement.

My eyes closed, taking a deep breath, my heart picked up at the sudden scent filling my nostrils, flowery and feminine fragrance with few dangerous notes.

My eyes wide open drew away from the people smiling at me to the left.

Everything drifted. The cheers washed out. Out of all the noises and noisy cars, I could only hear stomping heels, Heavy heels. The clicks were loud and clear, craving attention.

A woman with an all-black outfit, stridden with her stopping heels towards us. My gaze drew towards the loud black heels, tracing up slowly to her long silky legs. Her skirt stood above her knee, a black blazer hugging her small waist, all black and unreachable. I hardly saw her long neck from her thick black wavy hair. Her full lips quivered, her nose scrunched, her black eyes lighten with a deep fire under her furrowed brows, one hand holding up a phone and the other swinging a file holder. Her body swayed with the rhythm of my heartbeat.

She walked through the street busied with pigeons, making them fly to sit on the windows of skyscrapers. The birds didn't surprise her. Her focus was way ahead of her. Her hair bounced on her shoulders as she continues to walk at a fast pace. She reached the crowd, without looking, walking past us. Her perfume now felt heavy. Her fiery voice filled my hearing.

"I don't care, do something about it." She shouted, walking towards the traffic lights.

I stuck in a deep breath, shaking my head.

"Troy, I will be back."

"Ethan, where are you going, man?"

I ran without an answer to the woman. Will I be too late? It was still green light. And her heels were reaching out for the white pattern on the road.

"No!" I yelled before jumping behind her. With a swift move, I pushed her back against my chest, backing away from the speeding cars.

The push was too hard that she almost falls to her feet. I gripped her harder than before, by her wrist as my arms seized her waistline. She twisted, buried her head in my chest, her shaking hands went up next to her face.

Our Hearts and breaths, thumping and heaving louder than the rolling and beeping cars leaving down the street. I looked down, gulping, pulling away gently.

"Are you okay?" Her dim eyes moved up to meet mine, examining my face. I smiled, picking her bag from the floor.

"There you go," I said as she silently took it from my hand.

Just by this simple touch, my heart went back racing.

She brought her hand through her black and shiny hair, pushing it back her shoulders like she was not used to that weight.

"Thank you." I nodded, waving up for a yellow cab.

She rushedly grabbed my hand. The tenseness was on board. She looked at our intertwined hands before pulling them away and clearing her throat.

"Someone is coming to pick me up," She hushed.

I waved back at the cab for him to leave. And that's when a limo drove before our feet. The passenger car door slowly approached us before stopping. The black window rolled down, revealing a man looking me up and down, frowning.

"Olivia, you coming?" he asked, his eyes still fixing mine.

"Yes," she said, reaching for the door. She turned to look at me.

"Thank you again." I smiled and stepped back.

She opened the door and got in. The window rolled back up, speeding out. Leaving me stunned, I swallowed a ball of saliva that stuck for a minute, feeling my throat tearing.

"Ethan!" Troy ran towards me with the guitar case in one hand and the empty bucket in the other.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as my eyes were still where the limousine left.

"Oh, what's that?" I turned around only to see Troy holding a card.

"Olivia Garcia." when her name got out of his tongue, I reached for the card.

It was a black card, her name written in a gold cursive font.

'Ceo of the OG fashion industry,' was written under it.

"Well, that explains the limousine," I mumbled.

I turned the card around to see two phone numbers. They were her business numbers.

"Is that the girl you were talking to a minute ago?"

"I guess," I responded, placing the card in my pocket.

"You saw the fricken limo! I was like, damn! What Ethan has to do with that?" I laughed at his statement, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.

"Come on, man, let's go home."

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xo

RoyB