Chapter 2 (Skylar)

I watched his lips flow like waves but his words never made it to my ears. He was more attractive to me now than I had noticed. His short blonde hair framed his face quite nicely and made his deep brown eyes stand out dramatically. His eyebrows moved up and down in excitement, but I still had no idea what he was saying. I laughed at that. Everyone surrounding us had toothy smiles and half empty drinks. There was a blonde girl in the corner with a dress you'd swear was for a 5th grader. She was beautiful in a way, she was the only woman I'd ever seen who could pull off a dress like that and still look graceful. Brendan must have noticed I wasn't listening moments before since he had slithered off to the woman in the dress. I watched them give each other goody smiles for a while before I noticed a man had approached me. His face was a blurry mess. I squinted my eyes as hard as I could, trying to make out any spec of facial recognition. Dark greasy black hair with a pair of bright blue eyes. I must've looked as crazy as I felt, to him. I shook my head and laughed. "I'm sorry," I started. I couldn't figure out if I was speaking loud enough over the bellowing crowd for him to hear me. "Do I know you?" His face became more clear to me. He had deep, purple bags under both eyes and wrinkles embedded in his forehead-the same ones my father wore from worrying so much-still, I could tell he was young. Late twenties, at least. His lips cracked a familiar smile and revealed a set of shimmering white teeth. "Looks like New York is becoming too much for you, chicago," he said sarcastically. I gave him the most puzzling stare. It couldn't have been the same man from before. He looked different, more stressed. The man from the street was gregarious and charismatic. This man before me seemed extremely introverted. He held the same smile he greeted me with. My eyes fell to his shoes. Parma black oxfords. Then to his grey slacks. He was wearing the same collar striped shirt with a Paisley Print Cotton Airforce Blue tie and light yellow suspenders. It was him. I hadn’t noticed before how sharply dressed he was. "I don't believe we've properly met." He reached out his hand and shook mine. His hand was strong compared to my shaky grip. "I'm Skylar," I choked. My stomach started to feel quite strange. There was an almost fluttering feel. My palms were sticky and wet. My nerves kicked in more when he began talking again. "What's your full name?" He questioned. I managed to choke out that my name was Skylar Phillips. He seemed mildly intrigued as far as my eyes could tell. "Your turn," I whispered. He gestured for the bartender to bring him another drink. I realized I hadn't looked away from his eyes in the longest time. Suddenly, I couldn't tell if he had been in my company for 2 or 30 minutes. It was like his gaze made me lose all sense of time, it was also possible it was the alcohol swimming in my bloodstream. "I'm Parker Michael Sinclair and it is a pleasure to meet you, Skylar Phillips." My eyes felt a hundred tons and his face began to blur once more. The room was a pool of flashing colors and erratic noises. I don't remember what I hit first, the bar top or the floor. My feather body drifted down until there wasn't a person in sight. I struggled to gain my balance but I swayed without control until two delicate hands caught my fall.