Inferno

four | the escapade pt.1

  EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. A few golden words of wisdom I've grown up hearing from my father, time and again. When our trip to the woods got cancelled and we later got the news that a forest fire burned the place to shreds. When I got benched as a cheerleader, but made sports editor for school newspaper because of my time on the field. And alas, when college dumped me and so I took to writing to while away that period of hopelessness.

Until I realised how it had become the ray of hope I, then desperately clung onto and seem to be dragging along with me ever since. No matter how difficult it's looking at the moment. So, today when I am here, looking at that guy from the plane approach me in this city of nearly a billion people, I can't help but ponder over those words.

"Leia Callahan."

"Chase Cameron."

Bursting into loud cackles, we're probably appearing a pair of drunk morons to the rest, unbothered and unfazed. "I knew we'd meet again, I just didn't think it would be while I go on and make an ass of myself in front of some hundred people." He barely even keeps a straight face, laughing in cracks. "A moment I can guarantee would be difficult to forget, just like you."

All I can do is smile, devoid of a witty comeback and yet not regretting it. "So I presume you're stalking me now?"

"Hey, I should be the one asking that. It's my mockery of a party, that I wouldn't even come to, if it were up to me and not my father, the guy calling the shots." The sardonic grin says a lot about why he'd never once mentioned inheriting a billion dollar company.

Because if anything, I've learnt subtlety is not one of Chase's strong suits. "Well, my flight got tragically postponed, so I met up with my friend, Janine. She works for the company, and didn't have a date to the ball or so she thought at least." I point over to the royal couple, clinging glasses and getting boomerangs clicked by a corner. "I'm just glad this isn't prom."

"Funny, I never went to mine. Broke the left foot after flipping a beer pong table on its legs." He's smiling wide, while I just grimace at the imagery. "So maybe this is god's redemption for that incident. Prom 2.0 with Leia Callahan."
I can't help the shudder erupting in my spine at the mention of my last name. It's mild, almost unnoticeable, but he somehow recognises it. "Not a fan of your name?"

"No, it's... well, it's complicated." I don't wish getting involved with it as of the moment, or ever for that matter.

"Then we don't have to talk about it, because it's prom night. We've got the ambiance, the attire, all that's missing is red solo cups, so we won't be able to spike our fruit punch with vodka."

I just shake my head, internalising an eye roll. "Then we'd better run for king and queen, because an under 25 millionaire and a CIA agent's got to be the rarest pair of all."

"I'm not a millio– wait, CIA agent?" Shocked, visibly at that, I enjoy his trouble until I can't keep the straight face anymore. "Not funny," he pouts, running his hands through the mass of brown curls on his head.

"I'm honoured you thought, I'm capable of being an undercover officer, but a novelist and freelance content writer is all I got on my resume." A pro at living broke and denying facts, going below those two.

"So my date's a celebrity? No, wait, I got rescued from almost jumping down a plane by a celebrity? Awesome."

"Not a celebrity by any means," I think he's thinking I'm modest, but truer words have never been spoken. "Unless you've been to Arizona. In that case, I'm open to signing T-shirt's, but no photographs please."

"And here I thought being cocky is my thing. Without that, I'm not sure what I'm bringing to the table," a smirk elevates the corners of his lips, in turn making my cheeks hurt of smiling wide all evening.