One Stormy Evening
-•-•-
The rain pelts down on her,
bringing along its two friends,
loud thunder and silent lightning.
She greets them with a yellow umbrella,
And says, "I apologise, I don't have much time today. I'm late! I have to meet the start of my own love story!"

"What do you mean you're moving over?"

Outside, in the backyard, the screeching sound of the clothes' line spinning around in the wind alerts us of the rain beginning to rage once again.

"Dan's bought the apartment next to mine. He doesn't know where you live. My new manager thinks it's a good idea," Saara shrugs as she jumps on my sofa, bringing her legs up and tucking it in beneath her just as I do.

I shake my head, "I can't believe he's doing this."

"We're meeting tomorrow to try to end this clearly once and for all. My manager thinks it's a good idea to stamp a restraining order on his face if he doesn't want to negotiate,"

"Are you really going to stamp a restraining order on his face?" I ask, eyeing her skeptically. I know she won't do anything of that sort. Not after seven years with the guy. Seven years isn't just broken, forgotten, and gotten over in a week.

Saara glares at me for a second or two before her harsh expression slowly melts and she sighs, "No. I don't think I can."

A sigh of my own slips from my lips and I nod. I can see it. The love she still has for the giant. Love is such a funny thing. Like uninvited guests who come and leave at their own will. You never get to invite them, and you never get to decide when they leave. Granted, with guests we can't tell them when to leave out of common courtesy. But regardless, the essence for both is the same. I know.

"Who is this new manager of yours anyway? Sounds like a stuck-up," I eye my cousin, the hot cup of Ramyun I hold in my hand begins to burn and I lean forward and quickly put it on the coffee table.

"No idea," Saara shrugs, "The agency said that he's on vacation right now so the only way I've been contacting him is through email."

"So this manager of yours won't be there when you meet Dan? What the hell is he thinking sending you there without his supervision?" I blurt out, immediately having a dislike for Saara's new manager. It's a shame how everything played out, I really liked Robert. He was a nice guy. Then he went and blew it all away. Literally.

"I'm not a kid, PenPen," Saara snaps as she rolls her eyes at me, taking the cup of ramyeon I had set on the coffee table.

"No. You're a young woman who has the world's eyes on her almost all the time," I reply, blandly dragging every word like a broken and damaged poem.

"Shut it," Saara groans, "Clear half of your bed. I'm staying here."

I grin. I've definitely won this round.

"Oh! Can we use our room for my videos? I really like the aesthetics," Saara asks, suddenly turning to face me with her big brown eyes and pouty lips.

I nod, knowing she's probably already thought where to place her camera and which spot in the room to capture. She's just won another round.

"Anyway," I turn the topic back to where I want it. Knowing how extreme Dante can get, I think it's important to know what's planned for tomorrow. I can't let her meet him without a witness and just two bodyguards, "Is your manager really letting you meet Dan without him? Do you think it's safe? What does Dan want now anyway?"

"August, my new and very straight manager, is coming back tomorrow. He'll pick me up from here and we'll meet Dan. Afterward, the course of action is still unclear but I think I'm scheduled for gym and dance practise."

"August, huh?" I cock an eyebrow up. All the previous worry about her and Dan melts away at the admission of this new manager being there as well and instead, my mind focuses on other things.

"Watch this turn into a manager-singer forbidden love affair," I wink at my best friend, "Maybe you'll let me write a novel on you two."

"PenPen... Shut it!" Saara groans when I begin wiggling my eyebrows in a very suggestive manner.

"I thought he was flirting with me once when we first began emailing each other. I being an idiot, called him out. He told me he already has a girl he's very interested in and for me to relax. I've never been so embarrassed, Gem!"

For a second I just stare at the rosy-cheeked girl in front of me. Then it tumbles out. At first a bit abruptly, then in full swing. Soon I'm laughing my arse off at the expense of my cousin. It stops when a cushion slams on my head. Immediately I look at my best friend with my tear-stained face. Then I frown. That manager could have meant anything!

"Hold on, that girl could be you, Poofy!"

"Just as much of a chance as it is being you. No thanks, GemGem, I can't handle a bloody relationship so soon after Dan,"

She's right of course. Even I know she can't start a serious relationship so soon. Saara hasn't even started to heal yet. Hell, she's still in love with Dante. In the back of my mind, I can't help but wish things had turned out differently. If only Dante hadn't been so fickle with his popsicle.

"You on the other hand," She continues and this time it captures my whole attention, almost immediately blaring red lights all over my head.
"You need to date already. You're going around having crushes on married men whose sons accidentally call you Mum,"

"I do not have a crush on any married man!" It's my time to snap at her.

"Oh pssh. I saw the way you were looking at him and his wife. You might as have just cried your eyes out there instead of waiting until I started crying about my trash like situation and then joining in," Saara retorts undeterred, "Let me do you a service today and tell you something you probably don't know about yourself, Pen. It's difficult for you to fall just for anyone. You hardly find anyone compatible after all. However, when a certain person comes along that is remotely compatible with you — it takes the smallest of things. You're as good as gone."

I can't help but roll my eyes at my best friend's enlightening revelation. Despite the bitter feeling in the back of my head telling me how right she is, I can't help but act like she isn't.

"There is no way I have a crush on any married man. I think they make a great couple," I assure myself silently, "I was just shocked because I thought Isaac's Mum was dead and I was worried about him so much."

"Don't admit it if you don't want to. I'm still right anyway," Saara shrugs, sloppily taking a large sip of the hot ramyeon soup, "Oh this is so good!"

"Wait till I tell your new manager you ate ramyeon when you're supposed to be watching what you're eating," I shrug as well, poking my tongue out at a suddenly scandalised looking Saara.

She pouts, handing me over the cup.

"You're an evil, evil woman,"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Five O' Clock the next morning finds me out of bed and freshened up, in the living room, reading away at the fifth and last manuscript I am to complete. This manuscript seems better than the previous four I'd worked on. It has a lot fewer grammatical errors and the story seems to flow quite easily. The only sad thing about this one is that it's sad. Heartbreaking. It's a heartbreaking story with a definite heartbreaking ending. I can almost taste the tears of the main characters as I read along. Or maybe they are all just mine.

Reaching for my face I confirm my fears. Yes, they are all just my tears.

"Oh whatever," I sniffle as I pull the box of Kleenex closer and pull out a tissue to two. Then I get back to work. Laughter or tears... I'm going to get through this book even if it dries up my tear-glands.

When it turns seven I have no idea. But soon enough my arse and head both start to hurt and I stand up, stretching until I'm standing on my tiptoes, before beginning to walk towards the front door. It's time I make a round around the garden.

The fresh breeze that I've come to deeply appreciate touches me in a welcome and I inhale the morning air happily, closing my eyes as I stretch once again, disregarding the fact that my large long-sleeved shirt is almost falling off of my shoulders, leaving my tiny home-wear in full view for the neighbours.

"When I'm within the boundary of my own house, then the problem isn't in my clothes, it's in their mind," I mumble softly, reminding myself this like I usually do, as I step off of the porch and onto the grass. My toes curl into the wet grass and I smile as I step further into the garden, just taking in the smell and feel of the morning.

"Ah!" I sigh happily, feeling the strands of hair on my hand becoming alive when a gust of chilly wind breezes against me, "It's good to be alive."

Suddenly there is a knock on the front gate and my eyes snap open. I glance towards the gate with honest curiosity. Who could possibly be here so early? Saara's manager? Do they really start their day so early?

Opening the gate enough to peek my head through the gap, my suspicions prove correct as I come face to chest with another tall giant. Tilting my head up until I can see the man, I take the well built man in for a few seconds. He's dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt that's covered with his navy blue jacket suit. His pants that end an inch above his ankle is of the same colour as his jacket. I cock an eyebrow up at his choice of shoes though. A plain white Adidas Superstar. "Okay," I admit to myself, "Saara's manager is a very, very good looking man. Watch this really turn into a manager-Superstar love story!"

"Good morning, I'm August, Saara's manager. I've texted her and she said she's getting ready. May I come in?" He has an easy smile on his face as he looks down at me. Staring up at the man blankly, I almost step back and let him in. Almost. At the end of the tempory loss of my mental competency, my sanity wins.

"May I please see your identification?" I ask instead, extending my hand through the tiny gap. To my surprise the man immediately nods and reaches for his pocket. Bringing out his wallet, he hands it over to me and I look over his driver's license very carefully before handing it back to him.

"Okay, come in," I shrug as I step back and then press the button, letting the gate slowly slide open. I step aside when the man walks back towards his Jeep and then getting in, drives it into my driveway.

"Shall we?" August turns towards me as he gets out of the parked vehicle. I nod awkwardly.

"Ah... come in," I cough awkwardly as I step into the living room and hold the door open for the man to walk in through.

August smiles at me as he steps into the house and closing the door behind him securely, takes of his shoes at the doorway like I just I'm doing.

"Tea, coffee, or juice?" I ask, moving into the kitchen and feeling him follow behind me.

Moving behind the island I turn around just in time to watch his large self settle on one of the high chairs. Looking like even more of a giant now.

"Whatever is fine by you, thank you," August replies politely and I nod. Not knowing what else to do in such a situation.

As much as I am disappointed with Robert, at least he was easier to talk to. If he hadn't messed up, right now we would have been laughing our brains away talking about some stupid thing. Now, instead of a very peppy Rob, I have to deal with a very tall and handsome August who can pass for a celebrity himself!

"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name," August breaks the silence, his deep but soft vice melts through the silence like butter on a pan and I almost fear sliding and landing right on my ass in front of him. The fear that I'll embarrass myself in front of this high-shot manager slowly begins to show me its ugly face and so I turn my attention to what I know I can do well. I've done this a thousand times before anyway. Making breakfast.

Still, I make an effort to maintain the conversation, "I'm Gemma," I smile, cracking four eggs into a bowl one after the other, "It's nice to meet you, August."

"Gemma,"

My eyes snap up as August breathes out my name and our eyes meet. My breath hitches in my throat and I clear my throat awkwardly. August on the other hand only smiles at me, "You have a nice name, Gemma,"

I smile at his compliment, "Thanks August, so do you."

"Oh God, can you both please stop being so formal? I'm about to have a breakdown hearing all this small talk and baseless pleasantries," Saara makes a puking sign with her hand and mouth as she walks in and settles herself beside August.

Then she turns towards August and cocks an eyebrow up in suspicion, "Are you sure you're my manager? You could be a model or something yourself, you know? You're very handsome," Saara cringes, "Too handsome. What's your skincare routine?"

I watch wide-eyed as August grins and his whole face changes into one with childlike innocence.

"Just lots of water and soap," he chuckles.

Saara scoffs, "Bullshit."

I agree. There is no way someone can look like that just by chucking down water and using soap.

"Honest," August laughs harder, "Okay maybe good genes as well."

I really surprise myself when I find myself replying to him instead.

"Yeah, really really good genes."

August's surprised eyes find mine and I Immediately get back to preparing breakfast.

Maybe I spoke out of line.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I ask her,

"Do you believe in love at first sight?
The sort of love
that hits you
like a broom to the head.

The sort of love
that splashes into your life
like a bucket of cold water to the face
on a sleepy morning.

Do you believe in love at first sight?
The sort of love
that makes you question why you weren't in love with that person in the first place?

The sort of love
that isn't at first sight after all.
But a slow simmering manifestation of emotions that just explodes into a blunt realisation
one fortunate day.

A love like the combustion of the emotions.
A love like life and death at the same time.
Do you believe in that type of a love at first sight?"

She smiles,

and replies,

"No. I do not."

"That's really cold," Wendy — a friend doing Master's with me — exclaims as she looks down at the page from where I am reading from.

"The girl's dying. Of course, she'll hurt him in order to drive him away," I reply as a matter of factly as I flip the page and mark the first grammatical error I see on the page.

"Or she can just tell him," Wendy rolls her eyes as she stretches in her seat.

A glance at the wall-clock in front of us tells me that it's almost 6 in the evening. Wendy and I are currently seated in an almost empty lecture theatre, waiting for the lecture to begin soon. This is going to be the last lecture before our one-week mid-semester break and after doing a mid-semester exam for this unit last week on this very same day, I'm just ready to have a holiday. Working full time and studying part-time isn't as easy as it seems from an audience's perspective. It's actually very shite like.

"That too," I nod, agreeing with Wendy.

"Professor Swool is here," Wendy whispers just as our lecturer walks in and the tiny population of us students straighten in our seat, waiting for the professor to begin the lecture.

It doesn't take the Professor much time before he rolls out the slides on the projector, and begins.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I'm so glad we have a week's worth of break," Wendy stifles a yawn as she hurls her bag over her shoulder and gets up, stretching until I hear a bone or two cracks in her back.

"You really need a good massage," I tell the girl. My wide eyes remain on the sheepishly smiling girl as I get up and hanging my bag on my shoulder, begin to walk out of the theatre right behind her.

"Catching the bus again?" Wendy asks me with a frown on her face and this time I'm the one to hand her a sheepish smile.

"Yeah," I admit, walking towards Uni's exit with her. Wendy's really lucky, she just lives a few blocks away from the campus. I, on the other hand, travel almost forty minutes to and from Uni every day.

"Well take care, okay?" Wendy's frown deepens with what feels like concern and I reach over and give her a side hug out of impulse.

"I will. You take care on your way home too," I smile at the woman, patting her back awkwardly in comfort before we both part ways. She quickly begins to cross the road and I turn towards the buses waiting at the University's bus bay. Jogging over to the one I need, I hurriedly tap my traveling card and settle myself in my spot. Plugging in my iPod, I once again tune down the rest of the world as I press the volume up on Lana Del Rey.

"Goodnight Gemma," Margret, the bus driver, smiles at me as I walk out of the exit like she always does. And I turn back around and give her a large grin like I always do, "Goodnight Margret. Have a safe night!"

As I slowly begin walking towards my home, I realise it's not that dark yet. Above my head, the skies still remain an exotic mixture of purple and orange in some places, the rest of the sky remains almost already consumed by the night's darkness.

"How beautiful," I smile as I walk towards my house's front gate and quickly seeing that it is unlocked, slide it open before getting it and sliding it closed again — lock it.

"Honey, I'm home," I call out to Saara teasingly as I step into the house and push the front door to a close behind me. I'm replied with silence and I frown.

The house does seem kind of quiet tonight. That's a rarity whenever Saara's over. She's always talking about things and discussing things most of the time. Kneeling down I remove my shoes before slipping into my home slippers and begin walking further into the house.

I'm sure Saara's home and seeing the Jeep parked outside with her Cedillac, I'm sure so is August. So why is everything so quiet? — I gasp. Can it be? Can they be having... sex? My feet stop in their walking and I begin contemplating, Should I let them have... sex?

Immediately I shake my head and increase my pace. I won't deny, August is an above average man, to associate with him every day without having any sort of attraction towards him must be hard but Saara is just not ready. It's too soon. This is rebound stage. Everything she does now will never last long. No pun intended.

My almost silent footsteps lead me upstairs to my bedroom quicker than I expect. My mind goes on overdrive when I notice that the door is left a bit ajar. How could she... on my bed! Even I've never done anything on my bed!

As soon as I reach the door I push it open without a thought. I'm definitely not ready for the scene that awaits me on the other side. Saara is stationed in a corner of my bedroom, a fraction of her skincare collection is placed right in front of her and the video recording equipment are set up a couple of steps away. August peeks his head up to look at me from behind the camera.

"Welcome home, GemGem!" Saara beams at me widely before turning to the camera, "Gemma's home guys! Not that, that will make a difference with Gemma's quiet personality and all."

"Gemma!" She turns towards me again, and I blanch this time knowing exactly what she's about to say next, "Say hi to everyone!"

Immediately August turns the camera towards me and I stare into his curiously amused eyes instead. I almost burn a hole in his head while staring at him, hoping he realises that I'm begging him to turn the thing away, but he doesn't so my gaze flickers to the camera and I smile demurely instead, "Hi!" I acknowledge Saara's 9.25 million viewers on YouTube with a small wave. My eyes turn to August's unreadable ones again and this time I say it out loud, "Turn back to Poofy!" I whisper hurriedly, "I'm camera shy!"

"Oh! Sorry!" August mouthes as he immediately turns the camera's focus back on an amused looking Saara.

"Isn't she cute, you all?" She cooes into the camera and I take it as my cue to quickly runoff.

Heading towards the second room where I keep all the unfolded laundry, I quickly grab onto random pieces of clothing before walking out of the room and into the main bathroom.

Under the showers I allow myself to feel embarrassed openly. How could I have thought that Saara and August were doing the dirty?! Oh God, when did I turn into such a dirty-minded little turnip? Feeling my cheeks begin to burn again, despite the coldness of the shower, I quickly shake the thoughts away and begin belting out into a random song instead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night air feels warmer on my skin after the cold shower. Giving myself a once over, I make sure my short shorts and my favourite white t-shirt that I inherited from my dad's closet, look appropriate enough before I nod and begin wrapping a dry towel around my wet hair. Humming along go the silent song playing in my head, I pull open the bathroom's door and step out.

My almost silent footsteps lead me towards the kitchen. I'm starving. It's nine and I usually have my dinner by this time. In fact, I usually have my dinner before six. I'm pretty sure Saara's already had her dinner. She never has anything after six.

"What to eat? What to eat?" I ask myself out loud as I take a round around the small space, looking at the spices aimlessly.

I give up.

Reaching for the large bottle that contains the cereal, I pull a bowl forward and dump in some milk before putting in the cereal above it. The tiny yellow floating stars make me grin, and I dig in.

"That's your dinner?"

Looking up, I see Saara standing in the living room looking at me with wide eyes, beside her August also looks at me with concern.

"Yes!"

"Cereal? At nine? At night?" August speaks up this time and I shrug happily.

"Cereal with milk is a timeless meal,"

"We'll need to monitor her meals," Saara turns towards August and says in a manner that seems quite serious.

I scoff, "I'm a 24-year-old lady. Monitor your own meals, mother."

"I bet you wouldn't be able to say that to Irma Khala," Saara retorts immediately and I shove a spoonful of cereal in my mouth because she's right.

"Do you want me to cook you something?" August suddenly speaks up again and my eyes snap up to his.

His shimmering golden speckled brown eyes stare at me with sincere concern and I gulp down the cereal before quickly shoving another spoonful into my mouth. Shaking my head at the tall man before me. His hair is dyed the same colour as his eyes. Falling against his tanned skin as casually as it August has styled it today, he looks like a sun-kissed model.

Suddenly I understand why Saara thought he was into her. August treats everyone with such care. Like they are special. It's really appealing. But it's kind of weird.

"I'm cool, really," I smile when I see him cock an eyebrow up at my previous reply. Then I shove another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. It's better I keep my mouth full in case I embarrass myself.

August blinks.

"Okay," he shrugs, falling back into my sofa again.

This time I find myself wondering if he has a house of his own, and when exactly he's planning on going there.