“So, is this over?”
The question stunned Kaylin, but as she watched Ryan’s eyes burn with anticipation at her response, she realized it wasn’t the question that she was unprepared for, it was her own response. She had grown accustomed to having relationships end; there were a multitude of reasons: things maybe got “too serious” or maybe she got bored. There were even a few times when she wasn’t the first one to want out. But there was something about Ryan. There was something about watching him, watch her. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. She thought about how they left their shows together, and how he put his hand on the small of her back when they were out together, and she realized that she wasn’t ready to give that up; it had been a long while since she had felt that way, since she had felt that pull on her.
“I guess that’s a yes,” Ryan said, taking her silence for her answer.
“Ryan,” Kaylin began, trying to sort through what she was feeling without divulging too much,
“I’m not sure what you mean. What has happened that would make you think that?”
“Wha…are you kidding me, Kaylin? Why would I think...” he turned his head and couldn’t keep the sarcastic laugh from escaping his throat, “Nice. Here I am going crazy because I haven’t heard from you in five days and apparently you didn’t even notice.”
“Of course I noticed. I, I called out of rehearsal. I didn’t just skip it. There was, are, some things I need to take care of.” Ryan rolled his eyes as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked past him.
“I know you called out of rehearsal, Elizabeth told me that. She also told me that you weren’t on your deathbed sick, which is what I thought was wrong when you didn’t call me back. Then I come over and you weren’t even here? Charlotte next door said she hadn’t seen you go anywhere, I figured you were avoiding me.” He trailed off and watched her response, hoping he was wrong, but he saw her jaw clench at his last sentence, and he knew he was right. He knew that all his irrational fears were rooted in truth. “So it’s over. Fine, I wish I could say I just don’t care, but I do. You know I do or else I wouldn’t even be here.” His heart was racing madly, making fire course through his veins. For the last five days all he could think about was her, where she was, what could have happened to her, and now here she was – at home. Nothing was wrong at all. But there was something wrong; a distance had developed in the air between them that had never been there before. It’s like she had taken the five days to fortify a barricade, silent and imposing. “Are you really not going to say anything, Kaylin? Do I really mean that little to you that I don’t even get a reason why? I just get to leave?”
Her mind raced for a reason she could give him that would satisfy his curiosity, but not let him go. She took a deep breath and held in the exhale as she lifted her eyes to his.
“Stay,” was all she could say. His warm, blue eyes burned with a mixture of emotions she couldn’t read. She let her breath out slowly, controlled. “I don’t want you to leave, but I understand if you want to. It’s just, well, it’s just that I’m not used to having to explain myself to people. I wasn’t ready to have to.”
His brows pulled together with a look of confusion. “Why would I not want to know where you were? Why would I not care about what was happening to you? One minute you’re in bed with me, the next I’m pleading with Felix to find out if he’s heard from you,” Kaylin had to smirk at that: she knew Felix well. He’d probably made Ryan take him out to dinner only to say he knew nothing.
The fire that had been coursing through Ryan’s torso began to recede: she wanted him to stay. Kaylin looked down at herself, suddenly aware of her own existence. She had been in the same dress since her last rehearsal – how many days ago? Ryan had said five; could it really have been five days? Yes, today was Tuesday, she knew that - she called out today and they didn’t have rehearsal on Sundays and Mondays. She had worn this to Saturday’s rehearsal, the heather grey dance dress. It was so easy to wear that she hadn’t changed out of it since she had gotten home Saturday night and saw that she had a message.
Ryan followed her eyes down to look at what she was wearing. “Babe, is that the same outfit you wore Saturday?” He tilted his head down to look into her face. She was usually particular about her appearance, not in a vain way, but in a way that showed that she was aware of herself and how others saw her. Tonight she was standing before him in a rumpled cotton and spandex dress made for practicing dance routines, her feet were bare, and she had a faded white sweater jacket pulled over her shoulders. Across the top of her knee was a scratch with dried blood along the side where she had obviously tried to wipe it away.
He became intensely aware of the state of her house now. There was a small section of the faux-suede couch that had an unfolded throw blanket lying across it, and her cordless landline phone was on the end table. Her purse was thrown open on the floor in front of the blanket and her cell phone was lying open on the ottoman used as a coffee table.
“There is something wrong. What do you need to take care of?” his voice was softer now and his movements more deliberate. He moved his right hand out to pat her hair down where it was knotted in the back, but she jerked her head away. Instead he reached for her hand. She stepped aside, allowing him to come in. He sat precariously on the edge of her sofa, on the end without the blanket. She sat down tentatively next to him.
“Kay, I meant what I said the other night. I do love you. You aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. Whatever is going on, whatever it is, I’m here. Just tell me.” She was looking at her feet, all the confidence he’d become so accustomed to was drained out of her. “I know you’ve been hurt before, we all have, but Kaylin I’m not going to hurt you. Just tell me; just explain it to me, and I’ll understand.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” she snapped, “I’ve done just fine on my own for the last ten years, I don’t need someone around now.” She saw the hurt in his eyes, but the ice in her voice remained unchanged; he needed to back off, and he needed to back off now. “Why can’t you just be happy the way things are? Why do you need anymore than this?”
He looked away and bit his lower lip. How could he make her see? How could she see anything different when she looked in the mirror than she had always seen? To him she was like a porcelain doll: carefully put together and meticulous in appearance, something to be cherished and adored, but he knew that she saw herself as less, as a plaything put together of bits and pieces of leftover material.
“Because this isn’t enough,” he waved his hands around her small house scattered with mementos of her life and the occasional remnant of his presence. “I love you, Kaylin. I love every bit of you. I want to show you, show the world, just how much. I want to live everyday of my life knowing that you are a part of it,” he moved to be closer to her. He wanted to hold her and let all the love, frustration, and happiness he held for her come out as he pulled her to him.
She threw her hands up and tangled them in her hair, twisting her fingers through the length of it, a defensive move. “You don’t know what you are saying, Ryan. I can’t give you any more than this. You’re happy aren’t you? We have a good time together, don’t we? Let’s just leave it at this. This is more than enough.” She looked almost panicked.
In the time he had known her, he knew she lived her life as a closed off box. Each aspect of her life compartmentalized into its own place. When they first started dating trying to get her to talk about her life before she moved out to New York was like trying to decipher a riddle. Whenever he figured one out, whenever he felt like he was getting closer to her, getting to know the real Kaylin McSandsen, she would pull away, disappear almost.
She had created the persona she wanted people to know. He knew there was more to her than the smile she put on like makeup every day; he wanted to know what she thought, what she felt, what made her this energy that fueled his every thought. She was like a drug to him, and he wanted to know every aspect of her. But as he tried to get closer to her, to show her how much he wanted, needed her, she made it clear in every way that she had long ago isolated herself so far from the person she had once been, that it would impossible for him to do so.
“I love you, Kaylin. Nothing is going to change that.”
Ryan stared down at her; she looked so small, pressed up against the base of the sofa like that. She looked defeated. He was ready to press the issue, he was ready to go to war with whatever soldiers she had lined up to protect the wall that surrounded her: he was prepared for tears, ready for screams, he had steeled himself to be hit, but he wasn’t ready for the look on her face that showed him that she had already been killed. This whole time he wasn’t breaking down a wall around her, he was climbing into her tomb.
“You’re not crushed; you’re not done,” he talked gently as he squatted down to her level. He picked up her hand, so small and delicate compared to his. She didn’t try to pull her hand away, but as his thumb caressed the swath of skin between her thumb and forefinger, resting on the scar nestled between them, something shifted in her eyes.
“You don’t know that,” was all she said. “You don’t know anything about me, about my past, how can you be so sure of anything? No one hurt me. No one left me. I was the one who left. I was the one who hurt someone. I was the one who left.”
She stared at a patch of wall beyond where they sat, her eyes unfocused and her mind racing along somewhere far away from where she sat now.
“Tell me,” Ryan whispered settling down on the floor beside her, not letting go of her hand. “Tell me about you, about your past. Because you still haven’t convinced me…” he trailed off. Something in his voice or what he said made her pull her hand out of his. She pulled her legs towards her body and stood up. She was striding off to a different room, her bare feet making quiet padding noises down the hall.
“Kaylin?” he called after her. Using the ottoman for leverage he stood up awkwardly. He could see her reflected in the mirror at the end of the hall. Her back was to the door; she was sitting on a box placed strategically under a big window, staring out into the black.
Ryan moved to enter the room and sat on the worn leather chair a few feet away from her. He decided that she didn’t need to hear him - she wasn’t talking for him anymore. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned in. He could see the stress on her jaw line, her beautiful profile set hard against the black night behind her.
“Kaylin,” he whispered trying to take her hand in his, “please, don’t be like this,” she allowed him to take her hand only for a minute, and then pulled it away. “I know how you see yourself, I know you better than you think I can, but I do. I know someone hurt you. I know you loved someone long before me, but I promise I won’t hurt you the way he did. I promise that no matter how broken you think you are, I can fix it. I can show you how amazing this can be.” Her chin quivered and she looked away. Her eyes were wet, but no tears escaped them. “How can you think you are anything other than perfect in my eyes?”
“Because it’s like you said,” she interrupted, “I’m not like everyone else. I don’t just have a broken heart, it was never broken - it was crushed. Do you know that? Do you know that you can’t just fix something once it’s crushed; you can’t fix me.”
“Kay,” Ryan whispered, “nothing you say about any scar - this one,” his thumb rubbed the jagged flesh on her hand, “or any other, will make me turn and run away, I swear.”
“It’s not a pretty story, Ryan,” Kaylin mumbled pulling her hand free from his grasp. She pulled in a long, deep breath steeling herself against the tirade of emotions that began to storm inside her. She clenched her jaw down as her mind went wheeled around the words ‘I’m not ready to talk about this,’ but she wouldn’t say that aloud. She had not talked about this, she had never talked about this; when would she be ready? It had been eight years: eight years and hundreds of lifetimes ago.
How could she explain that it had been years since she allowed herself to laugh without feeling guilty; eight years since she slept through the night without walking through a world of what might have been. It was Ryan’s arms around her that made her sleep soundly; it was Ryan’s presence that made the laughter escape so easily from her lips. How could she explain to the man standing before her, the man that made her feel safe, loved, beautiful, that he wasn’t the first to do so?
Showing posts with label Ryan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ryan. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Chapter Twelve
“Kay did this about three years ago too” Felix said, stirring his tea absent-mindedly, “she was gone for a week. When she got back it turns out her grandfather died, and she went to Ireland to scatter his ashes.”
“Who doesn’t tell their friends when their relatives die?”
“Kaylin Colleen McSandsen,” Felix deadpanned.
“What did you do? Did you freak out?”
“Not really. Well, at first I did, we all did. She’s not the type of person to not return phone calls or anything, you know? But when she got back she was the same old Kay. She said that she just wasn’t that close to her grandfather or anything, they just had one of those relationships. So I hung around a bit more than usual, to make sure she was really ok and before I knew it, it was like nothing had ever happened. But Kay gets depressed in the winters” Felix realized aloud, "not dramatic, or anything, but just not as chipper I guess. I dunno, it's weird. She doesn't like the holidays I guess, she's been like this as long as I've known her."
Felix was Kay’s oldest friend. She met him about an hour after moving to New York; he was her neighbor: a gay man that was living on his own for the first time and fully embracing his eccentric, flamboyant side. Kay loved and took care of him, everything from his broken hearts to his hangovers.
Eventually Kaylin bought a duplex in Queens, and Felix got a steady job as “Felicia” in the drag review of “Victor/Victoria: Victorious!” but they still talked to each other regularly. Felix was wearing charcoal gray pants, a black, mock turtleneck and a matching scarf. He was lounging in a chair at one of the outside tables of a café in SoHo; the weather was unseasonably warm and Felix was primped like he was starring in a reality show.
He raised one eyebrow, “I am assuming that everything is OK with Kay, or else you would have told me over the phone right?” he asked noticing Ryan leaning across the table.
“I told her I loved her the last time I saw her,” Ryan said, “and she took off like a speeding bullet. Now I called her box office and they said she took the day off ‘for personal reasons.’” Felix’s eyes stared off, processing what Ryan had just told him. He had an idea what was going on, but it wasn’t his place to tell this story.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Felix commented, trying to keep the worry from his face. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“Do you really love her? You haven’t known each other very long.”
“I do. I can’t explain it, but being around her,” Felix waving his hand interrupted Ryan.
“I don’t need to hear about it. But if you do, if you really love her and want to run away and get married or whatever it is you breeders do, you need to know more about her.”
“I would, but I can’t get a hold of her,” Ryan sulked as the waiter came over and handed Felix the check; with a quick gesture, Felix pointed in Ryan’s direction and stood up. Ryan fished out money from his jeans pocket.
“You need to ask her about the scars,” Felix said dramatically and pulled his winter white parka about him, “and then tell her to call me.”
“Who doesn’t tell their friends when their relatives die?”
“Kaylin Colleen McSandsen,” Felix deadpanned.
“What did you do? Did you freak out?”
“Not really. Well, at first I did, we all did. She’s not the type of person to not return phone calls or anything, you know? But when she got back she was the same old Kay. She said that she just wasn’t that close to her grandfather or anything, they just had one of those relationships. So I hung around a bit more than usual, to make sure she was really ok and before I knew it, it was like nothing had ever happened. But Kay gets depressed in the winters” Felix realized aloud, "not dramatic, or anything, but just not as chipper I guess. I dunno, it's weird. She doesn't like the holidays I guess, she's been like this as long as I've known her."
Felix was Kay’s oldest friend. She met him about an hour after moving to New York; he was her neighbor: a gay man that was living on his own for the first time and fully embracing his eccentric, flamboyant side. Kay loved and took care of him, everything from his broken hearts to his hangovers.
Eventually Kaylin bought a duplex in Queens, and Felix got a steady job as “Felicia” in the drag review of “Victor/Victoria: Victorious!” but they still talked to each other regularly. Felix was wearing charcoal gray pants, a black, mock turtleneck and a matching scarf. He was lounging in a chair at one of the outside tables of a café in SoHo; the weather was unseasonably warm and Felix was primped like he was starring in a reality show.
He raised one eyebrow, “I am assuming that everything is OK with Kay, or else you would have told me over the phone right?” he asked noticing Ryan leaning across the table.
“I told her I loved her the last time I saw her,” Ryan said, “and she took off like a speeding bullet. Now I called her box office and they said she took the day off ‘for personal reasons.’” Felix’s eyes stared off, processing what Ryan had just told him. He had an idea what was going on, but it wasn’t his place to tell this story.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Felix commented, trying to keep the worry from his face. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“Do you really love her? You haven’t known each other very long.”
“I do. I can’t explain it, but being around her,” Felix waving his hand interrupted Ryan.
“I don’t need to hear about it. But if you do, if you really love her and want to run away and get married or whatever it is you breeders do, you need to know more about her.”
“I would, but I can’t get a hold of her,” Ryan sulked as the waiter came over and handed Felix the check; with a quick gesture, Felix pointed in Ryan’s direction and stood up. Ryan fished out money from his jeans pocket.
“You need to ask her about the scars,” Felix said dramatically and pulled his winter white parka about him, “and then tell her to call me.”
Chapter Eleven
But Ryan didn’t see Kay the next day, or even the next. He called her often and after the fourth day he called the theater. Elizabeth, the box office manager, said that Kay had taken the day off for “personal reasons” and she was sorry, but couldn’t tell him any more. Now he was worried. First she leaves within minutes of him confessing he loves her, now she was taking ‘personal days’ which was not something she had ever done before. Her friends made fun of her for it. She looked to him after they first teased her about it in front of him and said, “I’m trying for the perfect attendance award with Equity” and winked. She wasn’t being herself.
As Ryan disconnected the line he walked hurriedly to his own stage door and he had an idea.
As Ryan disconnected the line he walked hurriedly to his own stage door and he had an idea.
Chapter Ten
The next weeks flew by for them both. Kaylin had days of rehearsals and lessons, Ryan had begun the daily shows for the tourists flocking to New York for the start of the holidays. Thanksgiving had been spent together, neither of them could get away because of their work commitments, and Kaylin had revealed to him that both her parents had died when she was younger. When he offered his condolences she thanked him but waved them off, insisting that it was a long time ago and not worth crying over anymore.
His shows were mainly during the day, with the occasional dinner-time performance on the weekends, since it was a child-themed show. Kaylin’s rehearsals hadn’t entered into the grueling stage yet and she still had quite a few nights when she was home before nine. Those nights they spent together, getting take out food and watching movies. Sunday nights, however, was their night to go out, and go out they did; dancing, dinners, and even the occasional touristy museum or attraction. New York was an enchanting place over the winter holidays, especially when you are young and have someone in your life; Kaylin and Ryan enjoyed the time and each other, even as Kay got more and more withdrawn during their private time; her usual bubbly nature became more subdued as she immersed herself in her work.
More and more Ryan would wake up in the middle of the night and find her gone, sitting downstairs looking outside or just off into nothing. She always smiled warmly when he would come to find her, and insist she wasn’t sleeping because of work or worry about work, but her eyes avoided his as she said it.
One night, Ryan shouted out, “I love you,” as the throws of climax hit them both. Kaylin bucked back at him, shocked from his admission and overtaken with her own bodily response. Her back was to him, and he leaned down, kissing her along the scar that ran across her body. She jumped, disengaging herself and leapt to the bathroom down the hall before he could say or do anything. He silently cursed himself for choosing such an inappropriate time to announce to her what he’d been feeling since the moment she came sauntering to his table at that horrible club over a month ago. He scrambled out of the bed and pulled on a pair of light pajama pants, while padding down the hall after her.
"Kay?” he said to the closed door of the bathroom.
Kaylin was sitting on the toilet, not using the facilities so much as trying to see straight from what had just occurred. Her head was in her hands and as her eyes scanned the tiled floor into a blur of geometric shapes, she realized that she wasn’t in control of this anymore; she felt dizzy and out of sorts. This wasn’t a new feeling to her, but it was one that she had spared herself from for many, many years now.
She shook the thoughts from her head and grabbed at a tee shirt hanging precariously half in/half out of Ryan’s laundry hamper to her left. Pulling it over her head she went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at the person in the mirror. Had she been a stranger to herself since meeting Ryan? Since getting this role? Where was the Kaylin that knew her place in this world? Where was the Kaylin that kept her focus and her distance? Needing to feel grounded, humbled, she pulled her hair back and turned her head to the left and looked at the scar running down her neck; she twisted and saw the first few inches of the scar on her back. She was still her; she was still the same person she had always been. Just now she had a steady income; now she was going to be a star; now she was loved.
She heard Ryan’s knock and was startled away from her thoughts. She needed to go home.
Kaylin opened the door and flashed Ryan a shakey smile. “I gotta get going,” she said dancing around him and over to where her clothes lay in a heap by the sofa. “It’s Thursday, and you’ve got an early show and the producer is trying to do some sort of publicity stunt with me and Quinn tomorrow afternoon, so I’ve gotta get my beauty sleep.” She was babbling; cracking bad jokes and avoiding his eyes like they were the sun.
“Kay, what are you doing? Stop, Ok? Just,” she was dressed in a flash and trying to lace up a Nike when he came over and crouched down next to her, “just wait a minute. Tell me what’s really going on here.”
“Nothing!” she said quickly, picking up her fleece and heading for the door. “Call me tomorrow after your show. Hopefully we’ll be done by then.” She fumbled with the door before stopping. She flitted over to him and lightly kissed his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ok?” and with that she was gone.
His shows were mainly during the day, with the occasional dinner-time performance on the weekends, since it was a child-themed show. Kaylin’s rehearsals hadn’t entered into the grueling stage yet and she still had quite a few nights when she was home before nine. Those nights they spent together, getting take out food and watching movies. Sunday nights, however, was their night to go out, and go out they did; dancing, dinners, and even the occasional touristy museum or attraction. New York was an enchanting place over the winter holidays, especially when you are young and have someone in your life; Kaylin and Ryan enjoyed the time and each other, even as Kay got more and more withdrawn during their private time; her usual bubbly nature became more subdued as she immersed herself in her work.
More and more Ryan would wake up in the middle of the night and find her gone, sitting downstairs looking outside or just off into nothing. She always smiled warmly when he would come to find her, and insist she wasn’t sleeping because of work or worry about work, but her eyes avoided his as she said it.
One night, Ryan shouted out, “I love you,” as the throws of climax hit them both. Kaylin bucked back at him, shocked from his admission and overtaken with her own bodily response. Her back was to him, and he leaned down, kissing her along the scar that ran across her body. She jumped, disengaging herself and leapt to the bathroom down the hall before he could say or do anything. He silently cursed himself for choosing such an inappropriate time to announce to her what he’d been feeling since the moment she came sauntering to his table at that horrible club over a month ago. He scrambled out of the bed and pulled on a pair of light pajama pants, while padding down the hall after her.
"Kay?” he said to the closed door of the bathroom.
Kaylin was sitting on the toilet, not using the facilities so much as trying to see straight from what had just occurred. Her head was in her hands and as her eyes scanned the tiled floor into a blur of geometric shapes, she realized that she wasn’t in control of this anymore; she felt dizzy and out of sorts. This wasn’t a new feeling to her, but it was one that she had spared herself from for many, many years now.
She shook the thoughts from her head and grabbed at a tee shirt hanging precariously half in/half out of Ryan’s laundry hamper to her left. Pulling it over her head she went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at the person in the mirror. Had she been a stranger to herself since meeting Ryan? Since getting this role? Where was the Kaylin that knew her place in this world? Where was the Kaylin that kept her focus and her distance? Needing to feel grounded, humbled, she pulled her hair back and turned her head to the left and looked at the scar running down her neck; she twisted and saw the first few inches of the scar on her back. She was still her; she was still the same person she had always been. Just now she had a steady income; now she was going to be a star; now she was loved.
She heard Ryan’s knock and was startled away from her thoughts. She needed to go home.
Kaylin opened the door and flashed Ryan a shakey smile. “I gotta get going,” she said dancing around him and over to where her clothes lay in a heap by the sofa. “It’s Thursday, and you’ve got an early show and the producer is trying to do some sort of publicity stunt with me and Quinn tomorrow afternoon, so I’ve gotta get my beauty sleep.” She was babbling; cracking bad jokes and avoiding his eyes like they were the sun.
“Kay, what are you doing? Stop, Ok? Just,” she was dressed in a flash and trying to lace up a Nike when he came over and crouched down next to her, “just wait a minute. Tell me what’s really going on here.”
“Nothing!” she said quickly, picking up her fleece and heading for the door. “Call me tomorrow after your show. Hopefully we’ll be done by then.” She fumbled with the door before stopping. She flitted over to him and lightly kissed his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ok?” and with that she was gone.
Chapter Nine
Ryan was hanging her coat up on a hook beside his door when Kaylin slipped her arms around his waist; he could feel her breath on his neck, and it sent shivers down his body. He threw the deadbolt, lifted his arm and turned to face her. both his hands went to her waist, she touched his lips with her fingers, and brushed a kiss on his lips. His breathing was deep, trying to keep control of himself; his arms encircled her and pulled her up to him and he deepened the kiss, but he was cautious and careful to let her lead. They both sighed at the same time and she relaxed completely. Ryan released her mouth and let his lips slide down along her neck. There was another scar, running from behind her ear to the nape of her neck. He closed his eyes to it.
“Kaylin…” Ryan whispered soft along her ear, “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for, but I don’t want you to leave either.” Kaylin smiled and took a step back, looking him up and down, her top teeth biting down on her lip. She knew he was nervous she would run out as she had the other night, and his sensitivity warmed her heart in much the same way his kisses warmed other parts of her. He leaned down to embrace her gently, she was expecting him to grab and kiss her, but instead he kissed her pulse point below her ear, then he drew his mouth up to her face again, lightly touching his lips to hers. The kiss was chaste and questioning, as she parted her lips and allowed him to continue. His hand slid behind her, urging her closer, but not insisting, and she stepped forward of her own accord.
She chuckled at him and turned her head to see his face. “Ditto,” she said, and immediately she realized it was true. There as a wave of sadness that washed over her and she turned her back to him, allowing him to spoon her. “You aren’t coming on too strong, Ryan. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
He nuzzled his face into her hair and pulled her closer to him; he ran his fingers along the curve of her body. There was another long scar across her back, from her ribcage snaking its way to the base of her spine. Her body was scarred in the strangest ways and he would ask about them later, but for now his mind had set its course on something else.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve done this,” he paused a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He felt foolish with what he was about to say, but the intensity of what had just occurred made him move forward in his thoughts, “I would like you to,”, “be my girl.” There was a pause and then they both cracked with laughter.
“Are you asking me to go steady?” she commented through her giggles. He tickled her sides and she jerked, and rolled to her back. He moved his body down and rested his chin on her stomach.
“Yeah. Yeah I am,” he said in all seriousness.
“Kaylin…” Ryan whispered soft along her ear, “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for, but I don’t want you to leave either.” Kaylin smiled and took a step back, looking him up and down, her top teeth biting down on her lip. She knew he was nervous she would run out as she had the other night, and his sensitivity warmed her heart in much the same way his kisses warmed other parts of her. He leaned down to embrace her gently, she was expecting him to grab and kiss her, but instead he kissed her pulse point below her ear, then he drew his mouth up to her face again, lightly touching his lips to hers. The kiss was chaste and questioning, as she parted her lips and allowed him to continue. His hand slid behind her, urging her closer, but not insisting, and she stepped forward of her own accord.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Kaylin,” Ryan crooned, “my God, Kaylin.” Their bodies were glistening with sweat and the sound of both their hearts racing thumped in their ears. “I don’t want to come off too strong, but I have never had sex like that in my life.”She chuckled at him and turned her head to see his face. “Ditto,” she said, and immediately she realized it was true. There as a wave of sadness that washed over her and she turned her back to him, allowing him to spoon her. “You aren’t coming on too strong, Ryan. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
He nuzzled his face into her hair and pulled her closer to him; he ran his fingers along the curve of her body. There was another long scar across her back, from her ribcage snaking its way to the base of her spine. Her body was scarred in the strangest ways and he would ask about them later, but for now his mind had set its course on something else.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve done this,” he paused a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He felt foolish with what he was about to say, but the intensity of what had just occurred made him move forward in his thoughts, “I would like you to,”, “be my girl.” There was a pause and then they both cracked with laughter.
“Are you asking me to go steady?” she commented through her giggles. He tickled her sides and she jerked, and rolled to her back. He moved his body down and rested his chin on her stomach.
“Yeah. Yeah I am,” he said in all seriousness.
Chapter Eight
The rest of the night went extremely well. They each sang various songs; Ryan even went up with one of the ladies and tried to sing the Peter Cetera part of a Cher duet. They had fun and by the announcement of ‘last call’ they were each surprised. Kaylin tried to pay for her portion of the tab, but Ryan refused and the obligatory battle of the sexes ensued with Kaylin admitting that all since all she had was water, she could deal with him paying for that.
They both were given kisses on the cheeks and bear hugs from the various people he met throughout the night. Kaylin was told to “take this one home, baby!” by more than a few of them. Ryan was pulled off to the side by two of the ladies, who immediately dropped their voices back to their daylight baritones and was warned to treat her well or else. Ryan takes this very seriously, suppressing a smile and promises, shaking both of their hands.
The night was cold, but they needed to walk a few blocks before getting to a more main street where they could get a cab. He was still holding her hand.
“Ryan,” she stopped and pulled him to a stop with her. He was still laughing and reminiscing about the events of the night, when she stopped him. The wind whipped at them both and she let go of his hand to pull her jacket tighter about her. “I don’t want you to think I brought you there to show off. It’s not like that.” He had to squint to keep the wind from drying out his eyes, but he could see her clearly. Her long skirt whipped about her and her hair was being thrown around her head.
“I never thought that,” he said, pulling his wool hat out of his jacket pocket and pulling it over his head, “I had a lot of fun, and that never crossed my mind. Honest.”
“I had a really good time. The ladies really took to you!” She changed the subject quickly. He laughed and they continued on the way.
“I’m glad they did. It’s easy to have fun with you,” he said, looking over to her, “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun at a bar, let alone a karaoke bar.”
She smiled to herself as they quickened their footsteps, the wind between the tall skyscrapers was excruciating. “I’m glad you think so. Now, don’t think any less of me,” and with that she was off to the curb. In one smooth move, she hiked her long dress up and did a high kick in the air, making an otherwise careening cab come to a screeching halt. “It always works,” she said over her should as she climbed in. He doubled over in laughter and followed after her.
“Those some nice legs ya got, lady,” the cabbie said leering at Kay as she scooted across the bench seat, “where can I take ‘em?”
“Um, well,” Kay turned to Ryan with questioning eyes, “where to?” she directed the question to him, snuggling herself against his arm, stretched over the back of the seat, letting him know that she was ok with anything he said. He gave the driver his address and off they went.
“I’ve definitely never seen anyone hail down a cabby that way,” Ryan said, laughter still in his voice.
“Me either!” the cabbie chimed in, zooming down the darkened streets and merging into the traffic going over the bridge.
“It worked, didn’t it?” she laughed in her defense.
“I don’t think there’s a person alive who wouldn’t stop for that,” Ryan said, letting his right hand rest on her knee. She entwined her fingers to his and let her eyes wander over his body. He was wearing professionally-faded jeans and a patterned, button shirt over a colored tee shirt, but all that was hidden under his black, leather jacket that hung loosely to his hips. Ryan was looking down at their fingers curled around each other, studying her hand that looked so small compared to his own. Her nails were manicured and polished a soft shade of pink and her skin was soft. On the back of her thumb was a ragged, tight scar the size and shape of an almond. She noticed him looking at it and turned her hand so it wouldn’t show, and pulling herself up to kiss him.
They both were given kisses on the cheeks and bear hugs from the various people he met throughout the night. Kaylin was told to “take this one home, baby!” by more than a few of them. Ryan was pulled off to the side by two of the ladies, who immediately dropped their voices back to their daylight baritones and was warned to treat her well or else. Ryan takes this very seriously, suppressing a smile and promises, shaking both of their hands.
The night was cold, but they needed to walk a few blocks before getting to a more main street where they could get a cab. He was still holding her hand.
“Ryan,” she stopped and pulled him to a stop with her. He was still laughing and reminiscing about the events of the night, when she stopped him. The wind whipped at them both and she let go of his hand to pull her jacket tighter about her. “I don’t want you to think I brought you there to show off. It’s not like that.” He had to squint to keep the wind from drying out his eyes, but he could see her clearly. Her long skirt whipped about her and her hair was being thrown around her head.
“I never thought that,” he said, pulling his wool hat out of his jacket pocket and pulling it over his head, “I had a lot of fun, and that never crossed my mind. Honest.”
“I had a really good time. The ladies really took to you!” She changed the subject quickly. He laughed and they continued on the way.
“I’m glad they did. It’s easy to have fun with you,” he said, looking over to her, “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun at a bar, let alone a karaoke bar.”
She smiled to herself as they quickened their footsteps, the wind between the tall skyscrapers was excruciating. “I’m glad you think so. Now, don’t think any less of me,” and with that she was off to the curb. In one smooth move, she hiked her long dress up and did a high kick in the air, making an otherwise careening cab come to a screeching halt. “It always works,” she said over her should as she climbed in. He doubled over in laughter and followed after her.
“Those some nice legs ya got, lady,” the cabbie said leering at Kay as she scooted across the bench seat, “where can I take ‘em?”
“Um, well,” Kay turned to Ryan with questioning eyes, “where to?” she directed the question to him, snuggling herself against his arm, stretched over the back of the seat, letting him know that she was ok with anything he said. He gave the driver his address and off they went.
“I’ve definitely never seen anyone hail down a cabby that way,” Ryan said, laughter still in his voice.
“Me either!” the cabbie chimed in, zooming down the darkened streets and merging into the traffic going over the bridge.
“It worked, didn’t it?” she laughed in her defense.
“I don’t think there’s a person alive who wouldn’t stop for that,” Ryan said, letting his right hand rest on her knee. She entwined her fingers to his and let her eyes wander over his body. He was wearing professionally-faded jeans and a patterned, button shirt over a colored tee shirt, but all that was hidden under his black, leather jacket that hung loosely to his hips. Ryan was looking down at their fingers curled around each other, studying her hand that looked so small compared to his own. Her nails were manicured and polished a soft shade of pink and her skin was soft. On the back of her thumb was a ragged, tight scar the size and shape of an almond. She noticed him looking at it and turned her hand so it wouldn’t show, and pulling herself up to kiss him.
Chapter Seven
“Oh my,” was all Ryan could say as his eyes scanned about the room, trying to take in everything he was seeing: around him are dozens of obvious drag-queens in every get up from Cher to Dolly. There are the requisite real women, the “Grace” to most of these males “Will” and there are even a few straight couples sitting in booths although they are few and far between. Everyone is watching a queen sing a stunning, if not dramatic, version of Kelly Clarkson’s “Because of You.” There is a DJ booth along the right of the large room, and a kind of dais with karaoke equipment is set up on the wall directly across from the main entrance. Along the left of the entrance is a sleek, black bar with large man dressed in yellow spandex and a curly black wig serving drinks.
Ryan wasn't embarrassed or even uncomfortable, just startled. He had had a deep appreciation for the gay community, you can’t be in theater in New York and not have at least a few gay male friends, and his ego is always stroked when he’s in a bar like this. Apparently he is a very good “type” for many gay men. Although she never moved too far away, Kaylin was the hit of the bar, getting hugs and kisses from patrons and staff alike. Her outfit was praised over and over, and she was asked to spin more than once. Her laughter was warm and authentic and she held his hand the entire time allowing him to pirouette her while he laughed and offered to shake each person’s hand and even accepted hugs when they were offered. Kaylin referred to her friends as ladies and introduced Ryan as her date; just the act of her using such simple term made his smile widen. They were escorted to small booth to the left of the stage by a host-ess? wearing the most skin-tight dress he’d ever scene.
“Sweetheart what can I get you to drink while you wait?” she crooned, looking down at Ryan as Kay got herself situated and waved across the crowded room. Ryan looked to Kaylin to go first, but realized he was the one being addressed: they obviously know what she wants.
“Ah, what kind of beer do you have?”
“The foamy kind,” the hostess quipped and let out a bang of laughter.
“I’ll take one!” he laughed in response and settled in.
The Kelly Clarkson singer finished the song and everyone clapped politely when suddenly, over the speakers came a shrill Valley Girl voice, “Oh hell no!! Kaylin McSandsen get your skinny ass up here!” and the bar eruptted in applause.
Ryan looked over to his date, who is has hung her head, but was smiling broadly to herself. He raised his eyebrows in mock-surprise, and urged her on, “Your audience awaits!!” he laughed and, although she shrugged, Kaylin began to scoot off the booth and to saunter to the stage.
“Ya’ll know I’m here on a date, right?” she quipped into the microphone, adjusting it to her height, “don’t make me look bad!” She smiled out to him and he leaned on the table, he’d only heard snippets of her singing voice at the audition, but couldn't remember it from any of the other fifty or so women he heard that day. “What’ll it be tonight, Buffy?” Kay asked, rocking her head in the direction of the DJ, and Ryan saw that behind the DJ booth is a petite blond man dressed in preppy beach wear: it’s Spike, dressed as Buffy, of course.
Immediately the music starts up and Kay looked down at the TV positioned in front of her, reading the title of the song chosen. She smiled and closed her eyes dramatically, holding on to the mic. “You always pick this one, dear.” The crowd clapped again as Kay tossed her head to let her long hair fall down her back before leaning into the mic.
“She rings like a bell through the night and wouldn’t you love to love her?” Kay sang the lyrics of Rhiannon from memory, looking around the room, her voice accurate and sensual in a way that he thought only Stevie Nicks could.
Kaylin finished the song and the bar went crazy, Ryan clapped along with them and whistled loudly, almost knocking over the beer that has been brought over. Kay smiled and took a bow saying thank you to the people sitting around her showering her with praise. She walked over to the DJ booth and then both Kay and the DJ, Buffy, looked his way. Kay skipped over to their booth and pulls Ryan up. He gave a faint protest, but was happy to do it; he was a performer after all. As he approached the dais, Buffy looks him up and down.
“Well…well!!” came the voice again over the speakers. “Whaddya goin’ sing, babe?” Ryan faced Buffy, and looked Kaylin’s way. He said something that Kaylin couldn’t hear from her place at the table, but Buffy was smirking deviously and over the speakers came, “Oh Kaylin…I like this one! There’s been a request for you…”
She went back over to the karaoke machine and Buffy handed her the second mic. The music started to play and she took her place next to Ryan who was looking fairly smug, but she recognized the music immediately as a Stevie Nicks duet with Don Henley. Their voices melded into a sweet harmony and Kaylin became suddenly nervous; she didn't want to mess this up: this song, or this night.
Ryan wasn't embarrassed or even uncomfortable, just startled. He had had a deep appreciation for the gay community, you can’t be in theater in New York and not have at least a few gay male friends, and his ego is always stroked when he’s in a bar like this. Apparently he is a very good “type” for many gay men. Although she never moved too far away, Kaylin was the hit of the bar, getting hugs and kisses from patrons and staff alike. Her outfit was praised over and over, and she was asked to spin more than once. Her laughter was warm and authentic and she held his hand the entire time allowing him to pirouette her while he laughed and offered to shake each person’s hand and even accepted hugs when they were offered. Kaylin referred to her friends as ladies and introduced Ryan as her date; just the act of her using such simple term made his smile widen. They were escorted to small booth to the left of the stage by a host-ess? wearing the most skin-tight dress he’d ever scene.
“Sweetheart what can I get you to drink while you wait?” she crooned, looking down at Ryan as Kay got herself situated and waved across the crowded room. Ryan looked to Kaylin to go first, but realized he was the one being addressed: they obviously know what she wants.
“Ah, what kind of beer do you have?”
“The foamy kind,” the hostess quipped and let out a bang of laughter.
“I’ll take one!” he laughed in response and settled in.
The Kelly Clarkson singer finished the song and everyone clapped politely when suddenly, over the speakers came a shrill Valley Girl voice, “Oh hell no!! Kaylin McSandsen get your skinny ass up here!” and the bar eruptted in applause.
Ryan looked over to his date, who is has hung her head, but was smiling broadly to herself. He raised his eyebrows in mock-surprise, and urged her on, “Your audience awaits!!” he laughed and, although she shrugged, Kaylin began to scoot off the booth and to saunter to the stage.
“Ya’ll know I’m here on a date, right?” she quipped into the microphone, adjusting it to her height, “don’t make me look bad!” She smiled out to him and he leaned on the table, he’d only heard snippets of her singing voice at the audition, but couldn't remember it from any of the other fifty or so women he heard that day. “What’ll it be tonight, Buffy?” Kay asked, rocking her head in the direction of the DJ, and Ryan saw that behind the DJ booth is a petite blond man dressed in preppy beach wear: it’s Spike, dressed as Buffy, of course.
Immediately the music starts up and Kay looked down at the TV positioned in front of her, reading the title of the song chosen. She smiled and closed her eyes dramatically, holding on to the mic. “You always pick this one, dear.” The crowd clapped again as Kay tossed her head to let her long hair fall down her back before leaning into the mic.
“She rings like a bell through the night and wouldn’t you love to love her?” Kay sang the lyrics of Rhiannon from memory, looking around the room, her voice accurate and sensual in a way that he thought only Stevie Nicks could.
Kaylin finished the song and the bar went crazy, Ryan clapped along with them and whistled loudly, almost knocking over the beer that has been brought over. Kay smiled and took a bow saying thank you to the people sitting around her showering her with praise. She walked over to the DJ booth and then both Kay and the DJ, Buffy, looked his way. Kay skipped over to their booth and pulls Ryan up. He gave a faint protest, but was happy to do it; he was a performer after all. As he approached the dais, Buffy looks him up and down.
“Well…well!!” came the voice again over the speakers. “Whaddya goin’ sing, babe?” Ryan faced Buffy, and looked Kaylin’s way. He said something that Kaylin couldn’t hear from her place at the table, but Buffy was smirking deviously and over the speakers came, “Oh Kaylin…I like this one! There’s been a request for you…”
She went back over to the karaoke machine and Buffy handed her the second mic. The music started to play and she took her place next to Ryan who was looking fairly smug, but she recognized the music immediately as a Stevie Nicks duet with Don Henley. Their voices melded into a sweet harmony and Kaylin became suddenly nervous; she didn't want to mess this up: this song, or this night.
Chapter Six
The night wind whipped about his face as he rang the doorbell for the small, duplex of the address Kaylin had written on the dollar bill. In less than a minute she swung open the door to reveal herself surrounded by a dim, warm glow from further in the house. Her curvy, petite figure was sheathed in a strapless blue dress, the material of a tee shirt. The dress came to the floor; her hair was down and held away from her face with a strip of black elastic. Although it is the middle of November, her skin is sun-kissed. Her look was elegant because of its simplicity, and the material of the dress clung to the curve of her body making her look stunning.
Ryan was awe-struck and felt suddenly underdressed in his Abercrombie outfit, but her smile pushed any thought away and he got a warm feeling beginning in his abdomen that surged through his torso, making him bold enough to step forward and before she ccould an say anything, in one swift motion he put his hand on the small of her back and leaned his head in to kiss her. She brought her hand up to cup his face, returning the kiss and leaning her body into his. He could feel her smile as she begins to pull away.
“And here I thought I’d have to wait until the end of the date,’” Kaylin chided but she didn't move any further than to lean her head back to look into his eyes.
“You look amazing. I thought we were just going to karaoke.”
“Ah,” she pulled away from him to pick up a small, silver clutch on the table by the door, “not just karaoke, we’re going to Gay-Re-Oke!! It’s an entirely different world!!” She took his hand and started for the door, grabbing a silver, faux-leather jacket on her way.
Ryan was awe-struck and felt suddenly underdressed in his Abercrombie outfit, but her smile pushed any thought away and he got a warm feeling beginning in his abdomen that surged through his torso, making him bold enough to step forward and before she ccould an say anything, in one swift motion he put his hand on the small of her back and leaned his head in to kiss her. She brought her hand up to cup his face, returning the kiss and leaning her body into his. He could feel her smile as she begins to pull away.
“And here I thought I’d have to wait until the end of the date,’” Kaylin chided but she didn't move any further than to lean her head back to look into his eyes.
“You look amazing. I thought we were just going to karaoke.”
“Ah,” she pulled away from him to pick up a small, silver clutch on the table by the door, “not just karaoke, we’re going to Gay-Re-Oke!! It’s an entirely different world!!” She took his hand and started for the door, grabbing a silver, faux-leather jacket on her way.
Chapter Five
“Not much of a drinker, are you?” Ryan commented, finishing his cheeseburger and motioning to the waitress to bring him a refill on his beer.
“Not at all. I guess I had my share of drinking when it was still illegal,” she smiled taking a sip of her iced tea. They had eaten at a small bar around the corner from the theater; it’s a small place whose customers are usually the theater and art people dropping in for good bar food at odd hours. They spent the entire meal laughing and casually talking like old friends which, in reality they are: they’ve each seen the other at numerous auditions, through friends, and even managers’ offices.
“So, you’re from Ohio, you’ve been here for ten years, and now you’re about to open a major show directly on Broadway. You’re the American dream, baby!” they share another laugh as Kaylin considers what he has said: she’s been so wrapped up in preproduction red-tape that, with the exception of going out with some friends to celebrate, she hasn’t had time to ruminate on the significance of her goal, her dream, coming to fruition so completely.
“You know, I never thought about it like that. Well, I have, but not lately,” her eyes flickered around the room, avoiding Ryan’s gaze, “I don’t have family, so except for Saturday with Kaitlyn and all, I haven’t really let the impact hit me.” Before Ryan had a chance to take note of the sadness that skimmed across her eyes as she said it, a light voice came from over Ryan’s shoulder.
“Kaylin McSandsen, you uppity bitch,” Ryan snapped his head around to see who was talking and found behind him a petite, blonde man wearing a leather jacket and red scarf. “You haven’t returned my calls, too good for your old friends, now?” there was a slight British accent to the man’s voice, and a broad smile came across his face; he was joking and moving to get around the table to where Kay was seated. Ryan turned back to Kay and she was grinning.
“I’m awful, I know,” she stood up and embraced the man – who appeared to be a bit shorter than she was and she wasn't very tall, “but I haven’t talked to anyone. Tell him!” she motioned to Ryan. “Ryan, this is Spike. Spike, this is Ryan, another friend whose calls I haven’t returned.” Spike extended a delicate hand to Ryan.
“My name is Stephen, but they call me Spike. It’s a Buffy thing,” Spike laughed and turned his attention back to Kay. “Well my dear, you are to come by the bar tomorrow. I will not HEAR of you turning me down” Spike said as he tenderly reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Kaylin’s ear for her. From across the bar, the bartender announced that a to-go order was ready for pick up, and Spike perked up, kissed Kay on the cheek before spun around to dash off to the bar.
“That’s my food. Darling, you had better show up!!” He called over his shoulder. Once he was safely behind Ryan, Spike gave Kaylin a two thumbs-up sign and mouthed, “Hottie!!” and went off to get his food, leaving Kaylin standing, chuckling to herself beside her seat.
“I’m sorry about that,” she giggled, “but it must be nice to know I wasn’t just avoiding you.” Ryan was amused by the entire encounter, and his easy-going personality took it all in stride. Based on what he saw from the patrons of the clubs they visited that Saturday, he had a feeling hanging out with Kay would be like this a lot. She knew a lot of people and didn’t meet anyone she didn’t treat like a friend.
“No problem. But I can’t believe you haven’t been running around the streets of New York this last week shouting about your role!”
“It hasn’t sunk in yet. I was told the PR guy from the theater would be 'in touch' with me, and then I'd have interviews and stuff, but for now I've been too busy to breathe!”
“Well, I was going to ask you to do something on Saturday, but since you’ve already gotten orders,” they laugh and his voice drops an octave, his eyes turning serious, “when I can I see you again?”
Looking over his shoulder to see Spike mouthing HOTTIE again as caught her eye before walking out the door, Kaylin leaned across the table on her elbows. “Tell you what, if you would like, why don’t you come with me on Saturday? Spike deejays a bar that does karaoke on Saturday nights; it’s a little place, not many people, but they’re a part of my entourage. If you wouldn’t feel out of place I’d love for you to come too.”
“Consider it a date then. Should I pick you up?” he leaned back in his seat to reach into his back pocket for his wallet to pay the bill.
“Sure, here’s my address,” she looked around the table for something to write on but, giving up, grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote out a short, street address on one of the dollar bills he was putting down as a tip. “Around 9 ok?” She stood up and began to pull on her coat. Ryan stood up, effectively putting himself directly in front of her by only a few inches.
“You know, that might be considered the third date, if you consider Saturday a date,” he says letting his hand go to her waist, under the jacket before she can zip it up. She puts one hand on the back of his neck and kisses him quickly, but heatedly.
“It might be,” she throws back to him demurely, biting her lip and pulling on her gloves and hat.
“Not at all. I guess I had my share of drinking when it was still illegal,” she smiled taking a sip of her iced tea. They had eaten at a small bar around the corner from the theater; it’s a small place whose customers are usually the theater and art people dropping in for good bar food at odd hours. They spent the entire meal laughing and casually talking like old friends which, in reality they are: they’ve each seen the other at numerous auditions, through friends, and even managers’ offices.
“So, you’re from Ohio, you’ve been here for ten years, and now you’re about to open a major show directly on Broadway. You’re the American dream, baby!” they share another laugh as Kaylin considers what he has said: she’s been so wrapped up in preproduction red-tape that, with the exception of going out with some friends to celebrate, she hasn’t had time to ruminate on the significance of her goal, her dream, coming to fruition so completely.
“You know, I never thought about it like that. Well, I have, but not lately,” her eyes flickered around the room, avoiding Ryan’s gaze, “I don’t have family, so except for Saturday with Kaitlyn and all, I haven’t really let the impact hit me.” Before Ryan had a chance to take note of the sadness that skimmed across her eyes as she said it, a light voice came from over Ryan’s shoulder.
“Kaylin McSandsen, you uppity bitch,” Ryan snapped his head around to see who was talking and found behind him a petite, blonde man wearing a leather jacket and red scarf. “You haven’t returned my calls, too good for your old friends, now?” there was a slight British accent to the man’s voice, and a broad smile came across his face; he was joking and moving to get around the table to where Kay was seated. Ryan turned back to Kay and she was grinning.
“I’m awful, I know,” she stood up and embraced the man – who appeared to be a bit shorter than she was and she wasn't very tall, “but I haven’t talked to anyone. Tell him!” she motioned to Ryan. “Ryan, this is Spike. Spike, this is Ryan, another friend whose calls I haven’t returned.” Spike extended a delicate hand to Ryan.
“My name is Stephen, but they call me Spike. It’s a Buffy thing,” Spike laughed and turned his attention back to Kay. “Well my dear, you are to come by the bar tomorrow. I will not HEAR of you turning me down” Spike said as he tenderly reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Kaylin’s ear for her. From across the bar, the bartender announced that a to-go order was ready for pick up, and Spike perked up, kissed Kay on the cheek before spun around to dash off to the bar.
“That’s my food. Darling, you had better show up!!” He called over his shoulder. Once he was safely behind Ryan, Spike gave Kaylin a two thumbs-up sign and mouthed, “Hottie!!” and went off to get his food, leaving Kaylin standing, chuckling to herself beside her seat.
“I’m sorry about that,” she giggled, “but it must be nice to know I wasn’t just avoiding you.” Ryan was amused by the entire encounter, and his easy-going personality took it all in stride. Based on what he saw from the patrons of the clubs they visited that Saturday, he had a feeling hanging out with Kay would be like this a lot. She knew a lot of people and didn’t meet anyone she didn’t treat like a friend.
“No problem. But I can’t believe you haven’t been running around the streets of New York this last week shouting about your role!”
“It hasn’t sunk in yet. I was told the PR guy from the theater would be 'in touch' with me, and then I'd have interviews and stuff, but for now I've been too busy to breathe!”
“Well, I was going to ask you to do something on Saturday, but since you’ve already gotten orders,” they laugh and his voice drops an octave, his eyes turning serious, “when I can I see you again?”
Looking over his shoulder to see Spike mouthing HOTTIE again as caught her eye before walking out the door, Kaylin leaned across the table on her elbows. “Tell you what, if you would like, why don’t you come with me on Saturday? Spike deejays a bar that does karaoke on Saturday nights; it’s a little place, not many people, but they’re a part of my entourage. If you wouldn’t feel out of place I’d love for you to come too.”
“Consider it a date then. Should I pick you up?” he leaned back in his seat to reach into his back pocket for his wallet to pay the bill.
“Sure, here’s my address,” she looked around the table for something to write on but, giving up, grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote out a short, street address on one of the dollar bills he was putting down as a tip. “Around 9 ok?” She stood up and began to pull on her coat. Ryan stood up, effectively putting himself directly in front of her by only a few inches.
“You know, that might be considered the third date, if you consider Saturday a date,” he says letting his hand go to her waist, under the jacket before she can zip it up. She puts one hand on the back of his neck and kisses him quickly, but heatedly.
“It might be,” she throws back to him demurely, biting her lip and pulling on her gloves and hat.
Chapter Four
No one paid much attention as the light from the setting city sun spilled in from the side door. Ryan was sitting on the floor of the blackened stage listening to director’s notes and comments from a red-haired stage manager; the small production of The Christmas Toy might have been off-off-Broadway, but it was a paycheck. The first of the read-throughs began this week and today they tried to stage the first scene. His mind was wandering as the majority of the notes weren’t directed at him, when he felt someone staring at him. He turned to see a small frame slink into one of the wings of the stage, taking off her jacket. It was Kaylin, her hair wind-blown and spilling past her shoulders, her smile widening when she sees him turn to see her. He started to pull his legs under him, but with a quick wave of her hand, she silently tells him to keep going, as she sits on a folding chair off to the side of the stage.
He smiled and took a swig from his water bottle, doing a silent inventory of himself. He ran a hand through his thick, black hair and tensed his arms to see if there are any perspiration marks on his grey shirt while the stage manager, Sharon, went over the missed marks and director’s notes, Ryan nodded understanding and tried to keep his focus, but his eyes kept stealing glances at where Kaylin was sitting, relaxed, and smiling at the crew members who were busy trying to get the scenery up and the stage cleared off. She kept her voice low and talked to some of them, obviously having worked with them before. Ryan was giddy, and annoyed with himself for it: she has shown up unannounced at one of his rehearsals, and rather than be annoyed as would be his norm, he was ecstatic. He hadn’t seen Kaylin since Saturday when she left him unfulfilled and all-too eager to see her again.
Sharon wrapped up the debriefing session and as the rest of the cast began to disperse and gather up their winter accessories, Ryan turned to Kaylin and gave her a wide smile. “Hey! Fancy seeing you here,” he quipped trying to keep his voice even; he was excited to see her.
“Hey yourself,” she stood up and embraced him, her smell of lavender and the cold city wrapped around him as he squeezed her back, “I hope you don’t mind my coming by, I had a voice lesson today and it turns out you’re on the way.”
“Not at all. It’s a nice surprise,” he was still smiling. He let his hand stay at the small of her back as she released his hug. She didn’t move away, and her eyes held his. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He curled his fingers into her white, long-sleeved tee shirt as he stamped down on the intense urge within him to lean down and kiss her. Kiss her like he did just a few nights ago to remind himself that the heat of the night had been a reality and not just a beer-fueled memory.
“Well, I felt bad about not being able to return your call on Wednesday, and I was in the neighborhood, so I dropped in to see if you were available for dinner?” her hand moved up his arm still around her and stopped on his bicep, her teeth lightly biting on her bottom lip, but her eyes never diverted from his. Before he can think, his smile widens and he nods.
"Absolutely. Let me just get my things,” he moved to gather up his coat and messenger bag.
“You know,” he said trying to sound nonchalant, “I thought you didn’t call me back because you were punishing me for waiting so long to call you.” She shrugs into her coat and gave him a look like he was crazy.
“I don’t play those games,” she said in all seriousness although the smile is there in her eyes. She silently followed him out the side door and stood out on the sidewalk under the ever-present scaffolding patiently while he signed out of the practice and said goodbye. He had a moment to think about turning his cell phone back on but, noticing how she looks, standing on the street, smiling at the strangers scrambling past her, the sun framing her in gold, he decided to leave it off.
He smiled and took a swig from his water bottle, doing a silent inventory of himself. He ran a hand through his thick, black hair and tensed his arms to see if there are any perspiration marks on his grey shirt while the stage manager, Sharon, went over the missed marks and director’s notes, Ryan nodded understanding and tried to keep his focus, but his eyes kept stealing glances at where Kaylin was sitting, relaxed, and smiling at the crew members who were busy trying to get the scenery up and the stage cleared off. She kept her voice low and talked to some of them, obviously having worked with them before. Ryan was giddy, and annoyed with himself for it: she has shown up unannounced at one of his rehearsals, and rather than be annoyed as would be his norm, he was ecstatic. He hadn’t seen Kaylin since Saturday when she left him unfulfilled and all-too eager to see her again.
Sharon wrapped up the debriefing session and as the rest of the cast began to disperse and gather up their winter accessories, Ryan turned to Kaylin and gave her a wide smile. “Hey! Fancy seeing you here,” he quipped trying to keep his voice even; he was excited to see her.
“Hey yourself,” she stood up and embraced him, her smell of lavender and the cold city wrapped around him as he squeezed her back, “I hope you don’t mind my coming by, I had a voice lesson today and it turns out you’re on the way.”
“Not at all. It’s a nice surprise,” he was still smiling. He let his hand stay at the small of her back as she released his hug. She didn’t move away, and her eyes held his. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He curled his fingers into her white, long-sleeved tee shirt as he stamped down on the intense urge within him to lean down and kiss her. Kiss her like he did just a few nights ago to remind himself that the heat of the night had been a reality and not just a beer-fueled memory.
“Well, I felt bad about not being able to return your call on Wednesday, and I was in the neighborhood, so I dropped in to see if you were available for dinner?” her hand moved up his arm still around her and stopped on his bicep, her teeth lightly biting on her bottom lip, but her eyes never diverted from his. Before he can think, his smile widens and he nods.
"Absolutely. Let me just get my things,” he moved to gather up his coat and messenger bag.
“You know,” he said trying to sound nonchalant, “I thought you didn’t call me back because you were punishing me for waiting so long to call you.” She shrugs into her coat and gave him a look like he was crazy.
“I don’t play those games,” she said in all seriousness although the smile is there in her eyes. She silently followed him out the side door and stood out on the sidewalk under the ever-present scaffolding patiently while he signed out of the practice and said goodbye. He had a moment to think about turning his cell phone back on but, noticing how she looks, standing on the street, smiling at the strangers scrambling past her, the sun framing her in gold, he decided to leave it off.
Chapter Three
On Tuesday, Kaylin McSandsen the girl from Ohio who was only known to the directors as number 439 arrived at the Sondheim Theater and left a scant two hours later as Kaylin McSandsen, star of the new, highly anticipated Big City Blues the first major, original Broadway production in six years. She was the writer’s first choice (or so she was told) and the director’s favorite from the beginning. All the contracts were signed, and she was given stacks of appointments for the week: vocal lessons, the schedule of rehearsals, dance studio hours, an appointment for portraits with her and the leading man whom she still hadn’t officially met, and of course there was her first paycheck signed by a theater. In smaller productions it was the norm to be paid directly by the producers or from the union directly. This was her signing bonus, and when she looked at the number on the far right, she made a mental note to send a thank-you card to her manager. Tomorrow was the press conference and she was expected at eight in the morning, followed by a luncheon, and then off to vocal lessons at a small, but very reputable workshop a few blocks away.
She hailed a cab from outside the theater, her arms loaded with papers and copies; somewhere in there was the script for the first act of the play, but that didn’t seem to be of significance at this meeting. It was November in New York and the streets were crowded with tourists, even though the holiday season had yet to begin. Broadway itself was packed with out-of-towners bustling to and from the large, campy musicals that had famous Hollywood stars in leading roles in order to garner more attention from the press. Most plays these days were based on movies that Hollywood had originated anyway, but Kaylin’s play was going to be a true original: written from a famous playwright who years ago retired from the profession, and returned only because of his distaste for what was happening to the world he had loved. Critics everywhere hailed the script, and there had been a lot of press regarding the auditions. Kaylin let all of this sink in as she folded herself into a yellow taxi and was shuttled off to home.
Once inside her half of the quiet bungalow in suburban Queens, she set all of the papers on the small desk behind her sofa and headed for the kitchen. Her eyes went directly to the red light on the machine and she couldn’t stop herself from being disappointed when there weren’t any messages.
It had been three days since she’d abruptly left Ryan standing at the mouth of their subway exit. It was a move she wasn’t used to, but was certain of at the time. Kaylin didn’t allow herself to become to absorbed in her own emotions rather, she just followed her instincts and her instincts had told her to back off with Ryan despite her body yearning for her to hurry up. It would have been easy to go back to this home that night, make passionate love and then never see each other again or maybe see each other casually. But she knew, as quickly as she felt the surge of wind hit her face that night, that she didn’t want casual from him. His charm, his smile, the way he reacted to her every thought, made him stand out and made her back off. But she gave him her number. He should have called by now, she didn’t usually misjudge these situations, but maybe she read too much into his reactions that night. Maybe she was wrong.
Her girlfriends admonished her when they called the next morning and found her at home. Even Felix, her best friend since her first day in the ‘big city’ guffawed when she told him that she was given the opportunity to go home with the blue eyed boy she left the club with, but instead turned him down. He shook his head, the smile still on his face, knowing that she must have had her reasons. But she must have misjudged the situation.
Wednesday was everything that she could have dreamed of. Felix had stayed with her the night before and came with her to the theater. This was a moment the two of them had stayed up late nights as young people in the city and dreamed of, it was only right that he was with her. He sat in the audience as the photographers and reporters threw questions of every type at his best friend and he smiled like a proud father as she dazzled them all with her grace and responses. It was a whirlwind of a time, and he sat with her through the luncheon that followed, even getting teary as she was asked to sing the “Star Spangled Banner” before they commenced to eating.
The man they chose opposite her was a dream: tall, dark, and handsome, with chiseled features and a singing voice that sounded like it had grown up around Kaylin’s. His name was Quinn and Felix found out quickly that he was of his persuasion when Kaylin whisked Quinn over to where he sat for introductions.
Felix drove Kay home; he was the only person she knew that had a car, and he always joked that was why she kept him around. They were laughing over some inside joke as they came in the door much later that night; it had been an exhilarating day and night, but one that left her tired and punchy. She tossed her keys into the bowl by the door while Felix went to the kitchen for water.
“You’ve got a message, babe,” his voice echoed through the house.
“Hi it’s Ryan Wiley, from the other night. I, um, escorted you home Saturday? Anyway, just thought I’d give you a call. I landed a role in this seasonal production of The Christmas Toy so I’ve been busy, but anyway, you probably don’t care about all that. Um, I’d love to hear from you. Give me call sometime. I had a, uh, great time Saturday,” and the message clicked off.
“What?!” Kaylin came careening to the back of the house where Felix was standing in the kitchen listening to the message and absently sipping from a water bottle, “He didn’t leave a number?! Seriously? What the hell?!”
“You don’t have caller ID, babe? How the hell do you survive?”
“No one calls my house. Everyone uses my cell. Why the hell did I give him my house number? Ugh.” She flopped down on a stool pushed up near the counter and sulked.
“Well, my dear,” Felix began, “you’ll have to figure something out. He was adorable, and definitely worth another look. Why didn’t you just stick around with him after we left you?”
Kaylin rolled her eyes and kicked off her shoes. “Because,” she began, “because I wanted something more than just sex. I had this feeling. I dunno, I guess I was wrong.”“Um, hello? He just called you. You weren’t wrong, babe. Just impatient.”
She hailed a cab from outside the theater, her arms loaded with papers and copies; somewhere in there was the script for the first act of the play, but that didn’t seem to be of significance at this meeting. It was November in New York and the streets were crowded with tourists, even though the holiday season had yet to begin. Broadway itself was packed with out-of-towners bustling to and from the large, campy musicals that had famous Hollywood stars in leading roles in order to garner more attention from the press. Most plays these days were based on movies that Hollywood had originated anyway, but Kaylin’s play was going to be a true original: written from a famous playwright who years ago retired from the profession, and returned only because of his distaste for what was happening to the world he had loved. Critics everywhere hailed the script, and there had been a lot of press regarding the auditions. Kaylin let all of this sink in as she folded herself into a yellow taxi and was shuttled off to home.
Once inside her half of the quiet bungalow in suburban Queens, she set all of the papers on the small desk behind her sofa and headed for the kitchen. Her eyes went directly to the red light on the machine and she couldn’t stop herself from being disappointed when there weren’t any messages.
It had been three days since she’d abruptly left Ryan standing at the mouth of their subway exit. It was a move she wasn’t used to, but was certain of at the time. Kaylin didn’t allow herself to become to absorbed in her own emotions rather, she just followed her instincts and her instincts had told her to back off with Ryan despite her body yearning for her to hurry up. It would have been easy to go back to this home that night, make passionate love and then never see each other again or maybe see each other casually. But she knew, as quickly as she felt the surge of wind hit her face that night, that she didn’t want casual from him. His charm, his smile, the way he reacted to her every thought, made him stand out and made her back off. But she gave him her number. He should have called by now, she didn’t usually misjudge these situations, but maybe she read too much into his reactions that night. Maybe she was wrong.
Her girlfriends admonished her when they called the next morning and found her at home. Even Felix, her best friend since her first day in the ‘big city’ guffawed when she told him that she was given the opportunity to go home with the blue eyed boy she left the club with, but instead turned him down. He shook his head, the smile still on his face, knowing that she must have had her reasons. But she must have misjudged the situation.
Wednesday was everything that she could have dreamed of. Felix had stayed with her the night before and came with her to the theater. This was a moment the two of them had stayed up late nights as young people in the city and dreamed of, it was only right that he was with her. He sat in the audience as the photographers and reporters threw questions of every type at his best friend and he smiled like a proud father as she dazzled them all with her grace and responses. It was a whirlwind of a time, and he sat with her through the luncheon that followed, even getting teary as she was asked to sing the “Star Spangled Banner” before they commenced to eating.
The man they chose opposite her was a dream: tall, dark, and handsome, with chiseled features and a singing voice that sounded like it had grown up around Kaylin’s. His name was Quinn and Felix found out quickly that he was of his persuasion when Kaylin whisked Quinn over to where he sat for introductions.
Felix drove Kay home; he was the only person she knew that had a car, and he always joked that was why she kept him around. They were laughing over some inside joke as they came in the door much later that night; it had been an exhilarating day and night, but one that left her tired and punchy. She tossed her keys into the bowl by the door while Felix went to the kitchen for water.
“You’ve got a message, babe,” his voice echoed through the house.
“Hi it’s Ryan Wiley, from the other night. I, um, escorted you home Saturday? Anyway, just thought I’d give you a call. I landed a role in this seasonal production of The Christmas Toy so I’ve been busy, but anyway, you probably don’t care about all that. Um, I’d love to hear from you. Give me call sometime. I had a, uh, great time Saturday,” and the message clicked off.
“What?!” Kaylin came careening to the back of the house where Felix was standing in the kitchen listening to the message and absently sipping from a water bottle, “He didn’t leave a number?! Seriously? What the hell?!”
“You don’t have caller ID, babe? How the hell do you survive?”
“No one calls my house. Everyone uses my cell. Why the hell did I give him my house number? Ugh.” She flopped down on a stool pushed up near the counter and sulked.
“Well, my dear,” Felix began, “you’ll have to figure something out. He was adorable, and definitely worth another look. Why didn’t you just stick around with him after we left you?”
Kaylin rolled her eyes and kicked off her shoes. “Because,” she began, “because I wanted something more than just sex. I had this feeling. I dunno, I guess I was wrong.”“Um, hello? He just called you. You weren’t wrong, babe. Just impatient.”
Chapter Two
Of course he remembered her. She smelled like lavender and baby powder, a scent that lingered on his olfactory and reminded him of summer. Her smile was welcoming and she flashed it to everyone as if they were old friends. He immediately felt at ease with her, and the time they spent together on the stage made him think of the famous old time duos like Hepburn and Tracy: their banter was easy and the laughter real.
When they stumbled upon each other at that horrible club in Brooklyn, Ryan was both surprised and even excited. It wasn’t much of a coincidence that they would have the same friends, most want-to-be actors and actresses knew of each other and through word of mouth had the same hang outs. Ryan had seen her in passing before at other, larger dance clubs or bars; however this was the first time that they were at a place to talk and see each other eye to eye.
Surprisingly Kaylin had the same natural, easy-going way to her as she did at the auditions. She didn’t pretend to be anyone then or now, and her behavior was a refreshing change from the phony, soul-less eyes and smiles of the other people he met with numbers attached to their chests. She had changed her dress from the jeans and sweaters he had seen her wearing before, and was now wearing a fitted silver dress with tank sleeves and bunches at the hem. Ryan had found himself watching her throughout the night. Her happy attitude was like a magnet that pulled his eyes to her. Even when he sat down he could still hear her laugh and people trying to talk over the thumping of the music to get to her. He gulped down half of his beer, winded from trying to dance too long. He slung his free arm over the empty seat beside him and settled in, his friends were dancing or mingling around the place with the few locals still out. Again he found his gaze lingering on Kaylin, he watched her dance and throw her arms around the friends in front of her, he saw her throw a look at the DJ and wink as a new song started. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck and a stray lock of hair kept falling across her eyes; as she tucked it behind her ear, she looked over and met his gaze. His smiled widened and he didn’t look away. Like he had silently called to her, she patted her friend’s arm and began to walk off the dance floor towards him.
Kaylin pulled out the chair across from the brown-haired boy sitting at her table, “Has anyone claimed this seat yet?” she asked sitting down before he had the chance to answer. He smiled around his glass and gestured with his hand to have a seat as he swallowed a rather large draught from his beer.
“So we’re in this together,” were the first words he said directly to her, not in character.
“Um, I guess so, I, er, I didn’t hear anyone else they chose, sorry…” she stumbled, “Congratulations?”
He smirked. “I meant being loners, but if you got the part, congratulations to you,” he said and took another slug of his beer.
Kaylin looked away momentarily as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She smiled fully and threw her head back as if stretching her neck. “So, why aren’t you dancing?” she asked, trying to change the subject. She reached for a bottle of water two seats away clearly marked with a K on the label.
“Too many people. It’s amazing how crowded it seems when you’re on the floor compared to how empty the place really is.” He glanced at the empty tables around them. “My name is Ryan Wiley, by the way. You know, in case you were wondering.” He was making a joke. Kaylin picked up on the humor in his voice, in his face and very coolly replied, “Yeah, I know.” She couldn’t keep her poker face though, and smiled.
“I’m Kaylin McSandsen,” she said as she screwed the lid on the now empty water bottle.
“That I did know,” he replied, “you did a fantastic job at the audition for Big City Blues. I take it you got the part?”
Kaylin nodded in response and tucked her stray hair back behind her ear again. “We’re celebrating tonight. I’m usually a homebody.”
“I don’t believe that,” Ryan said casting a doubtful smirk, “you seem to know your way around a dance floor and everyone seems to know you.”
“Nah, I’m just a nice person. And the dancing is just a holdover from my younger years.”
“Younger years? How old are you? like twenty? Can you even buy a beer?” Ryan laughed, gesturing to her bottled water, “How can you have ‘younger years’?”
“I’m twenty eight I’ll have you know,” she said with mock authority, “I just don’t drink,” she played with the bottle. It was easy talking to him, they had a good rapport and he had a nice laugh. “How old are you?” she asked more seriously now. She was wanted to steer the conversation in a more intimate direction away from the casual banter but not if he was as young as he looked.
“Same, actually,” he said, “want to see my license?” as he noticed her doubtful look. He picked up on her line of talking, though, and leaned in. “I’m going to get another drink, you want another water?”
“Sure,” she replied and watched him push back from the table and head to the bar. He was wearing jeans and a patterned button shirt. His cuffs were pushed up, but not in a casual way, he was careful about how they were folded. Kaylin noticed things like that about people, how they looked and how they acted was pointless, she was observant about the details. It made her a good friend, and it made it easier to live in New York; she had a quick mind.
It didn’t take long for Ryan to return to the table, drinks in hand.
The night went on quickly; they closed the club and as they stumbled around the subway and then the streets trying to find cabs, Kaylin realized that Ryan hadn’t left her side. They had danced together, people watched together, and not looked at their watches together. The DJ’s announcement of last call had taken her by surprise as she ground her hips into Ryan pelvis, moving to the beat that pulsated the air around them. When they all ended up outside Ryan handed her a water bottle, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her girlfriends.
At the subway station Katie, one of Kaylin’s girlfriends, announced, “Ok, we’re going to take the red line home. Kay - you go with Ryan. You both live in Queens,” and then hustled the others away before anyone could protest. It made sense that since they both lived near each other they would ride home together, but the pointed announcement made Kaylin blush despite herself. The howling of the subway coming to a stop beside their platform broke the moment of awkward silence that settled after their friends left.
“After you,” Ryan said putting his hand on the small of her back guiding her through the sliding doors and to a seat. The electric heat that emanated from where he had placed his hand sent a sizzle of heat up and down Kaylin’s body.
Kaylin sat down and hopped over to the window allowing a space for Ryan to sit down. “Where do you live in Queens?” Kaylin asked watching him as he settled in to his seat: shifting his weight, adjusting his jacket, running his hand through his hair.
“Forest Hills,” he said taking a gulp of the water he was holding, “I rent a place across from this Chinese grocery store on 69th. You?”
“I live in more the Rego Park district. Ingram Street,” she replied, moving herself so her back was against the window and she was facing him more directly. His arm was against the back of the seat his elbow bent so his arm didn’t extend to where she was sitting, his hand rested a few inches from her left shoulder.
“Are you cold? You don’t have a jacket or anything,” his forefinger began tracing tiny circles along her shoulder; he watched his own hand looking for her reaction. Kaylin bit her bottom lip and playfully titled her head to the side. She felt tingles along her arm from where his finger had been; shivers crisscrossed her skin. Ryan lifted his eyes to meet hers, and pulled himself closer across the seat to her.
“I’m fine,” she leaned closer, “definitely fine,” she kept her eyes on his as he leaned towards her only when his head tilted so she couldn’t see them anymore did her eyes flutter closed. Kaylin moved her hands up to the back of his head as he reached around her waist with his free hand. As their lips met, Kaylin felt a wave of heat rush through her. He pulled her closer to him; the taste of her on his lips was insatiable.
In no time at all the buzz of the conductor’s voice over the broken speakers let them know their stop was coming up. Kaylin had lifted her legs and draped them across Ryan’s lap; their kissing continued as the subway rocked and sped them over the bridge and across the bay to home.
He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck and whispered, “You’re going home with me tonight.” It was more of a statement than a question, the air in the small space of their subway car still sparked with the chemistry between them. She pulled her head back and looked up at him with doe eyes, not saying a word, one of the corners of her mouth began to curl releasing a sultry half smile and she leaned in to kiss him again. When the train began to slow to a stop he used the excuse of helping her up to keep hold of her hand. She didn’t object and allowed him to lead her through the station; he kissed her again on the platform, his hands on her waist, hers holding the collar of his jacket. They reluctantly moved towards the exit, but with the blast of cold air that hit them as the escalator brought them to the surface, a realization came to Kaylin.
“Ryan,” she said stopping and turning to him, “I think I should just go home now.” He took a step towards her, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, long and hard, her hands instinctively around his neck as he lowered his hands to her waist and drew her to him. Their lips parted and the kiss became more deep and intimate until she finally forced herself back. Her eyes were smiling despite trying to be serious.
“I don’t want to rush this,” she kissed him quickly on the lips and started to back away. “You are amazing, but I want to save some of you for later,” she smirked.
“That’s the nicest put-off I’ve ever gotten,” he grinned. He was aching for more, but the idea that she wanted something other than one night dissipated any hurt feelings he might have had. He realized that she had only had water to drink, and he had been drinking beer for the better part of five hours now. “I’m not drunk, Kaylin, this isn’t a drunken euphoria I’m feeling, don’t think it is.”
“I know it’s not. But this isn’t a put off. It’s a rain check,” she winked, and spun around to head down the block in the opposite direction.“Kay! Kaylin!! I don’t even have your number!!” He pulled out his cell phone and waved it to her. She crossed back to him and took the phone from his hand. She punched in her number, then looked up at him seductively as his hand grazed hers when she handed it back. She reached up on her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips and dashed off before he could say another word.
When they stumbled upon each other at that horrible club in Brooklyn, Ryan was both surprised and even excited. It wasn’t much of a coincidence that they would have the same friends, most want-to-be actors and actresses knew of each other and through word of mouth had the same hang outs. Ryan had seen her in passing before at other, larger dance clubs or bars; however this was the first time that they were at a place to talk and see each other eye to eye.
Surprisingly Kaylin had the same natural, easy-going way to her as she did at the auditions. She didn’t pretend to be anyone then or now, and her behavior was a refreshing change from the phony, soul-less eyes and smiles of the other people he met with numbers attached to their chests. She had changed her dress from the jeans and sweaters he had seen her wearing before, and was now wearing a fitted silver dress with tank sleeves and bunches at the hem. Ryan had found himself watching her throughout the night. Her happy attitude was like a magnet that pulled his eyes to her. Even when he sat down he could still hear her laugh and people trying to talk over the thumping of the music to get to her. He gulped down half of his beer, winded from trying to dance too long. He slung his free arm over the empty seat beside him and settled in, his friends were dancing or mingling around the place with the few locals still out. Again he found his gaze lingering on Kaylin, he watched her dance and throw her arms around the friends in front of her, he saw her throw a look at the DJ and wink as a new song started. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck and a stray lock of hair kept falling across her eyes; as she tucked it behind her ear, she looked over and met his gaze. His smiled widened and he didn’t look away. Like he had silently called to her, she patted her friend’s arm and began to walk off the dance floor towards him.
Kaylin pulled out the chair across from the brown-haired boy sitting at her table, “Has anyone claimed this seat yet?” she asked sitting down before he had the chance to answer. He smiled around his glass and gestured with his hand to have a seat as he swallowed a rather large draught from his beer.
“So we’re in this together,” were the first words he said directly to her, not in character.
“Um, I guess so, I, er, I didn’t hear anyone else they chose, sorry…” she stumbled, “Congratulations?”
He smirked. “I meant being loners, but if you got the part, congratulations to you,” he said and took another slug of his beer.
Kaylin looked away momentarily as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She smiled fully and threw her head back as if stretching her neck. “So, why aren’t you dancing?” she asked, trying to change the subject. She reached for a bottle of water two seats away clearly marked with a K on the label.
“Too many people. It’s amazing how crowded it seems when you’re on the floor compared to how empty the place really is.” He glanced at the empty tables around them. “My name is Ryan Wiley, by the way. You know, in case you were wondering.” He was making a joke. Kaylin picked up on the humor in his voice, in his face and very coolly replied, “Yeah, I know.” She couldn’t keep her poker face though, and smiled.
“I’m Kaylin McSandsen,” she said as she screwed the lid on the now empty water bottle.
“That I did know,” he replied, “you did a fantastic job at the audition for Big City Blues. I take it you got the part?”
Kaylin nodded in response and tucked her stray hair back behind her ear again. “We’re celebrating tonight. I’m usually a homebody.”
“I don’t believe that,” Ryan said casting a doubtful smirk, “you seem to know your way around a dance floor and everyone seems to know you.”
“Nah, I’m just a nice person. And the dancing is just a holdover from my younger years.”
“Younger years? How old are you? like twenty? Can you even buy a beer?” Ryan laughed, gesturing to her bottled water, “How can you have ‘younger years’?”
“I’m twenty eight I’ll have you know,” she said with mock authority, “I just don’t drink,” she played with the bottle. It was easy talking to him, they had a good rapport and he had a nice laugh. “How old are you?” she asked more seriously now. She was wanted to steer the conversation in a more intimate direction away from the casual banter but not if he was as young as he looked.
“Same, actually,” he said, “want to see my license?” as he noticed her doubtful look. He picked up on her line of talking, though, and leaned in. “I’m going to get another drink, you want another water?”
“Sure,” she replied and watched him push back from the table and head to the bar. He was wearing jeans and a patterned button shirt. His cuffs were pushed up, but not in a casual way, he was careful about how they were folded. Kaylin noticed things like that about people, how they looked and how they acted was pointless, she was observant about the details. It made her a good friend, and it made it easier to live in New York; she had a quick mind.
It didn’t take long for Ryan to return to the table, drinks in hand.
The night went on quickly; they closed the club and as they stumbled around the subway and then the streets trying to find cabs, Kaylin realized that Ryan hadn’t left her side. They had danced together, people watched together, and not looked at their watches together. The DJ’s announcement of last call had taken her by surprise as she ground her hips into Ryan pelvis, moving to the beat that pulsated the air around them. When they all ended up outside Ryan handed her a water bottle, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her girlfriends.
At the subway station Katie, one of Kaylin’s girlfriends, announced, “Ok, we’re going to take the red line home. Kay - you go with Ryan. You both live in Queens,” and then hustled the others away before anyone could protest. It made sense that since they both lived near each other they would ride home together, but the pointed announcement made Kaylin blush despite herself. The howling of the subway coming to a stop beside their platform broke the moment of awkward silence that settled after their friends left.
“After you,” Ryan said putting his hand on the small of her back guiding her through the sliding doors and to a seat. The electric heat that emanated from where he had placed his hand sent a sizzle of heat up and down Kaylin’s body.
Kaylin sat down and hopped over to the window allowing a space for Ryan to sit down. “Where do you live in Queens?” Kaylin asked watching him as he settled in to his seat: shifting his weight, adjusting his jacket, running his hand through his hair.
“Forest Hills,” he said taking a gulp of the water he was holding, “I rent a place across from this Chinese grocery store on 69th. You?”
“I live in more the Rego Park district. Ingram Street,” she replied, moving herself so her back was against the window and she was facing him more directly. His arm was against the back of the seat his elbow bent so his arm didn’t extend to where she was sitting, his hand rested a few inches from her left shoulder.
“Are you cold? You don’t have a jacket or anything,” his forefinger began tracing tiny circles along her shoulder; he watched his own hand looking for her reaction. Kaylin bit her bottom lip and playfully titled her head to the side. She felt tingles along her arm from where his finger had been; shivers crisscrossed her skin. Ryan lifted his eyes to meet hers, and pulled himself closer across the seat to her.
“I’m fine,” she leaned closer, “definitely fine,” she kept her eyes on his as he leaned towards her only when his head tilted so she couldn’t see them anymore did her eyes flutter closed. Kaylin moved her hands up to the back of his head as he reached around her waist with his free hand. As their lips met, Kaylin felt a wave of heat rush through her. He pulled her closer to him; the taste of her on his lips was insatiable.
In no time at all the buzz of the conductor’s voice over the broken speakers let them know their stop was coming up. Kaylin had lifted her legs and draped them across Ryan’s lap; their kissing continued as the subway rocked and sped them over the bridge and across the bay to home.
He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck and whispered, “You’re going home with me tonight.” It was more of a statement than a question, the air in the small space of their subway car still sparked with the chemistry between them. She pulled her head back and looked up at him with doe eyes, not saying a word, one of the corners of her mouth began to curl releasing a sultry half smile and she leaned in to kiss him again. When the train began to slow to a stop he used the excuse of helping her up to keep hold of her hand. She didn’t object and allowed him to lead her through the station; he kissed her again on the platform, his hands on her waist, hers holding the collar of his jacket. They reluctantly moved towards the exit, but with the blast of cold air that hit them as the escalator brought them to the surface, a realization came to Kaylin.
“Ryan,” she said stopping and turning to him, “I think I should just go home now.” He took a step towards her, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, long and hard, her hands instinctively around his neck as he lowered his hands to her waist and drew her to him. Their lips parted and the kiss became more deep and intimate until she finally forced herself back. Her eyes were smiling despite trying to be serious.
“I don’t want to rush this,” she kissed him quickly on the lips and started to back away. “You are amazing, but I want to save some of you for later,” she smirked.
“That’s the nicest put-off I’ve ever gotten,” he grinned. He was aching for more, but the idea that she wanted something other than one night dissipated any hurt feelings he might have had. He realized that she had only had water to drink, and he had been drinking beer for the better part of five hours now. “I’m not drunk, Kaylin, this isn’t a drunken euphoria I’m feeling, don’t think it is.”
“I know it’s not. But this isn’t a put off. It’s a rain check,” she winked, and spun around to head down the block in the opposite direction.“Kay! Kaylin!! I don’t even have your number!!” He pulled out his cell phone and waved it to her. She crossed back to him and took the phone from his hand. She punched in her number, then looked up at him seductively as his hand grazed hers when she handed it back. She reached up on her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips and dashed off before he could say another word.
Chapter One
Meeting Ryan took a full month. They had first seen each other at a “cattle call” audition for a new run of the mill musical being opened just off of Broadway. At huge auditions each person was assigned a number and would wait for their turn to stand on the stage and sing for ten measures and recite two pages. To pass the time, Kaylin watched the other auditioners and rate the men based on looks alone. She barely listened to the carefully thought-out speeches or the same songs over and over, she just looked and rated. Most of the faces were the same from other auditions - most of the songs were too. She had a few friends in this business, and they sat around her. They rated the men too, and the gossiped quietly among themselves.
Kaylin wasn’t paying much attention when the number 6-1-6 was called out and a man slowly approached center stage. From behind her, one of the girls did a breathy cat call, while still another gave a dramatic, “Hellllooo…” Kaylin blinked a few times and focused her eyes. He was wearing a black cotton shirt with blue jeans, nothing too spectacular, his hair was a rich chocolate brown that he wore parted down the middle and swept just over the tops of his ears. He read his two pages of dialogue and cleared his throat as he began his ten measures of “La Vie Boheme” from the musical Rent. He was good looking, but not enough make her pay any closer attention.
She saw number 616 again, closer this time, at the first call backs a week later. Ten men and ten women were called to come back and have a second audition. This time they were paired up and had a full scene to perform together; they were asked to sight sing an entire song from the show, and were taught the basic choreography for one number; it was all very standard. Kaylin had had call backs before, nothing for this close to a full scale Broadway show, but she was good at channeling her nervous energy into a steel reserve.
She wasn’t paired up with number 616, she was paired up with number 218 - a blond with such perfectly messy hair that she knew immediately it took him a half hour in the morning to make it look that way. Although the ten actors called back were of the same size and body shape, their hair color varied as much as their accents. 218, Kaylin quickly discovered, was originally from Oklahoma and although he could drop the accent at any time, in casual conversation he preferred to use it. He whistled a lot to accentuate when he was overwhelmed, or excited, or just about any time.
The second audition ended up lasting two days. This time she did notice number 616 a little more; he had a dimple on the right side of his chin, he ran his hands through his hair easily so he didn’t use hair product (something that couldn’t be said for number 218), he laughed easily, and he could act. He could act and sing very well. He was perfect for the part.
At the final audition there were only six people. Each actress had to do a scene and a song with each actor. When Kaylin matched up with number 616 their reading was short and their song turned out to be the same one she had sang at the first call back – a plus. They weren’t called by their numbers anymore, but Kaylin didn’t quite hear his name, she was focusing on how to read her part with him. The scene was an argument and she had to be angry, seething, but also vulnerable and scared. Before she knew it, the stage manager called their scene to a close; she shook his hand, smiled and walked over to her things piled neatly on a folding chair sitting in one of the wings of the stage.
Two days later Kaylin got a call from her manager excitedly telling her that she had the part, the lead in a major production. The theater would be hosting a press conference on Wednesday announcing the actors and actresses. This was a very big deal. She needed to be at the box office Tuesday at ‘nine sharp’ to sign her contracts.
That night Kaylin went out to celebrate with her girlfriends, two of whom auditioned for the part she had landed. These were her New York friends; New York friends were rivals and confidantes: they celebrated each other’s successes and figured out ways to get each other in the chorus lines when their insurance was about to run out. New York friends gossiped with each other and about each other, New York friends got pissed when you landed the part they wanted, but never missed an opportunity to celebrate. New York friends became like family when no one could get home for the holidays, or when there was no family around. Kaylin had a lot of New York friends.
At some point during the night, a friend of a friend called and recruited the small group to join a few more at a small club in Brooklyn. It was there that she saw number 616 again: the friend of a friend turned out to be a friend of a friend of number 616. The small club turned out to be loud and not very crowded, so the combined group made up the majority of the space. The girls danced wildly and screamed to each other over the loud music thumping loudly around their swinging hips. When Kaylin got tired and returned to their table, she found that the only other person sitting there was number 616. He was watching her, and rather than looking away when she met his gaze he smiled when he saw she was coming over.
Kaylin wasn’t paying much attention when the number 6-1-6 was called out and a man slowly approached center stage. From behind her, one of the girls did a breathy cat call, while still another gave a dramatic, “Hellllooo…” Kaylin blinked a few times and focused her eyes. He was wearing a black cotton shirt with blue jeans, nothing too spectacular, his hair was a rich chocolate brown that he wore parted down the middle and swept just over the tops of his ears. He read his two pages of dialogue and cleared his throat as he began his ten measures of “La Vie Boheme” from the musical Rent. He was good looking, but not enough make her pay any closer attention.
She saw number 616 again, closer this time, at the first call backs a week later. Ten men and ten women were called to come back and have a second audition. This time they were paired up and had a full scene to perform together; they were asked to sight sing an entire song from the show, and were taught the basic choreography for one number; it was all very standard. Kaylin had had call backs before, nothing for this close to a full scale Broadway show, but she was good at channeling her nervous energy into a steel reserve.
She wasn’t paired up with number 616, she was paired up with number 218 - a blond with such perfectly messy hair that she knew immediately it took him a half hour in the morning to make it look that way. Although the ten actors called back were of the same size and body shape, their hair color varied as much as their accents. 218, Kaylin quickly discovered, was originally from Oklahoma and although he could drop the accent at any time, in casual conversation he preferred to use it. He whistled a lot to accentuate when he was overwhelmed, or excited, or just about any time.
The second audition ended up lasting two days. This time she did notice number 616 a little more; he had a dimple on the right side of his chin, he ran his hands through his hair easily so he didn’t use hair product (something that couldn’t be said for number 218), he laughed easily, and he could act. He could act and sing very well. He was perfect for the part.
At the final audition there were only six people. Each actress had to do a scene and a song with each actor. When Kaylin matched up with number 616 their reading was short and their song turned out to be the same one she had sang at the first call back – a plus. They weren’t called by their numbers anymore, but Kaylin didn’t quite hear his name, she was focusing on how to read her part with him. The scene was an argument and she had to be angry, seething, but also vulnerable and scared. Before she knew it, the stage manager called their scene to a close; she shook his hand, smiled and walked over to her things piled neatly on a folding chair sitting in one of the wings of the stage.
Two days later Kaylin got a call from her manager excitedly telling her that she had the part, the lead in a major production. The theater would be hosting a press conference on Wednesday announcing the actors and actresses. This was a very big deal. She needed to be at the box office Tuesday at ‘nine sharp’ to sign her contracts.
That night Kaylin went out to celebrate with her girlfriends, two of whom auditioned for the part she had landed. These were her New York friends; New York friends were rivals and confidantes: they celebrated each other’s successes and figured out ways to get each other in the chorus lines when their insurance was about to run out. New York friends gossiped with each other and about each other, New York friends got pissed when you landed the part they wanted, but never missed an opportunity to celebrate. New York friends became like family when no one could get home for the holidays, or when there was no family around. Kaylin had a lot of New York friends.
At some point during the night, a friend of a friend called and recruited the small group to join a few more at a small club in Brooklyn. It was there that she saw number 616 again: the friend of a friend turned out to be a friend of a friend of number 616. The small club turned out to be loud and not very crowded, so the combined group made up the majority of the space. The girls danced wildly and screamed to each other over the loud music thumping loudly around their swinging hips. When Kaylin got tired and returned to their table, she found that the only other person sitting there was number 616. He was watching her, and rather than looking away when she met his gaze he smiled when he saw she was coming over.
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