Life in Technicolor

Aya

Hey everyone, it's Kit :) just wanna say a massive thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this, I'm so blessed with the support I have received following this. I hope you guys enjoy and stick around for when I publish your section. In the meantime, enjoy meeting Aya!! <3<3

Songs I listened to whilst writing were Christmas Lights, Strawberry Swing, and The Escapist.

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Breathe in, breathe out; her feet pound against the pavement as she jogs through Hyde Park, the frosty air nipping at her skin through her tracksuit.  Aya taps the Fitbit on her wrist, the neon numbers showing her step count.  Just 700 more, she thinks to herself, picking up her pace slightly.  On the path ahead of her, another man jogs, his purple t-shirt dark from sweat. His broad shoulders sway with his stride, and Aya can't help but stare, feeling as if she knows his figure from somewhere.  He wears a blue hat, bright enough to warrant a double take, but what really catches her attention are the bright, multi-coloured neon shoes, reflecting what little light there was on the dark, London day.  She speeds up more, so that she is only a metre or so behind him.  As though he sensed her presence, the man looks back, slowing down slightly; upon seeing his face, Aya swerves sideways, tripping over a non-existent crack in the path.  She stumbles forward wildly, but strong arms stop her from falling from her feet.  Snapping her head up, Aya stares into dark shades, the yellow happy face on his cap smiling down at her.  A love button adorns the breast of his t-shirt, brushing away any of her doubt.

"Are you ok?  I'm not that ugly am I?"  Chris asks Aya, steadying her as he holds both of her shoulders.

He takes off his glasses, putting them in his pocket as he wipes the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt.  Azure eyes inspect her face, deep blue pools of liquid sapphire that Aya felt she could just dive into.  She says nothing, only stares up at someone she had only seen in photos and videos, not quite believing her eyes.

"Do you want me to pinch you?  Will that help?" Chris suggests; his chocolate voice is like a sugar rush to her ears, and Aya snaps out of her trance.

"N-no, I'm fine," she stutters, "I just didn't expect to find a wild Chris Martin out jogging in Hyde Park."

He laughs, loudly, and then stops himself, reaching out and pushing on her arm gently.

"I didn't expect to be catching someone who tripped over just because I looked at her.  I'm slightly insulted."  Chris continues laughing and Aya does nothing, just stares at the man who she idolizes, who is such an important part of her life.

"I love you so much," Aya blurts before she realises what she's doing; Chris stops and scrutinizes her intently, "your band and you, have done so much for me, you have no idea.  I love your music and I love your personalities, I love you all so much."

She claps a hand over her mouth, taken back by her word vomit, but also slightly hopeful that Chris understood her message.

"That's why we do what we do," emotion flashes across his face, but he composes himself quickly, "what's your name?"

"Aya."  She whispers, looking at her feet sheepishly.

"You have a lovely name, Aya.  Do you want to come and get coffee with me, and we can talk more?"  He asks, his face lifting slightly.

Aya sees sparks, not believing if she had heard him correct.  Chris looks down at her with wide eyes, a puppy waiting for a walk.

"I mean, if it's not too hard for you..." she begins, but he doesn't let her finish her sentence, instead reassuring her it's fine.

"I know a nice place on Oxford Street, I'll shout for you."

They walk side by side, Chris putting his glasses on again to evade paparazzi; little talk passes between them, but it's a comfortable silence.  As they turn onto Oxford Street, Aya can't help herself; she hums the melody of Christmas Lights, and Chris hesitates at her side.

"You had to, didn't you?"
Aya laughs, and he laughs too, his smile lighting up his whole face as he chuckles, before regaining composure.

They continue walking, Chris singing the words of the song quietly.  Finally, he stops in front of a small café; it's tucked into a tiny gap between two luxurious looking retail stores, highly out of place in the grand area.  Chris pushes the door open for Aya, and a tiny charm tinkles merrily.  As she steps inside, Aya is met with a blast of warm air and she rubs her hands together, enjoying the toasty-ness of the room.  It smells of cinnamon inside, and her mouth waters when she spies an assortment of pastries inside a glass cabinet below the cashier.  They take a seat in front of the window, looking out on the street as the world passes by.  A man outside squats beside a rubbish bin, a camera aimed towards the café; Chris points him out.

"Guess they saw us."  He sighs, and then smiles at the aging waitress behind the counter.
"Hello Christopher," she says with a rosy smile, planting two kisses on each of his cheeks, "how are you?"

"I'm very well, thanks Maggie.  This is Aya, I just met her."

Maggie smiles at her, greeting Aya pleasantly, then also planting a kiss on her cheek. The pair order two coffees and a croissant between them, making small talk as they wait for their food.

"How is the tour going?" Aya asks Chris softly, tearing off a bit of croissant.

"It's good, it's better than I ever imagined.  Every time we step on stage we're blown away, its like the crowd is another member of the band...another 50,000 members of the band - with glowing wrists."  He fades off, staring into the distance as his eyes glaze over.

"It must be magical, I wish I could see it in person."
Chris snaps back to reality, looking at her as if she's crazy.

"You haven't been to a concert?"
Aya shakes her head glumly, fiddling at the corner of a napkin.

"We're playing Wembley in a few days, do you want to come?  I can get you in, you don't need to pay for tickets."

Aya feels her jaw drop slightly, overwhelmed and taken aback by his offer.

"I have to pay you at least a little bit, it's your income!"

He shakes his head, smiling broadly.  He unpins his love button and slides it across the table so that it sits in front of her.

"Love; it means giving back to those who make you happy.  Please come, you've made me happy and thus I want to give back to you."

Aya stares at the button, then back up to Chris, unable to think of anything to say.  She picks up the badge, twiddling it in the palm of her hand as his words sink in.

"I-I'd love to, thank you, this means so much...I can't believe it.  Thank you."

They continue talking for a long time, absorbed in the company of one another.  Their conversation flows, smoothly and easily, oblivious of everything but each other.