Kevin leaned his head back against the seat of the limousine and closed his eyes, still feeling the heavy beat of the music pumping through him. He felt almost scared to admit it, but tonight had been a lot of fun. For the first time in months, the Boys had persuaded him, no, dragged him out clubbing with them. Normally he would fob them off with some story about being tired or having a headache or wanting to finish a song, but tonight they hadn’t taken no for an answer. Kevin felt sure that his conversation with Howie a couple of weeks earlier had played a major role in it. He couldn’t help but feel grateful; D definitely knew the best way to take his mind off his troubles: free alcohol, a pumping beat and a multitude of sexy women to dance with.
Nothing had stopped Kevin leaving early though. The other Boys had hooked up, as per usual, but Kevin wasn’t one for one-night stands: the warm vacuum that remained in his bed after the girl left in the morning just served to intensify the empty feeling. Besides, the alcohol had left him disorientated and woozy, and so he had informed his band mates that he didn’t want anything other than to collapse into sleep in his hotel bed. Alone, he had hastened to add. AJ had come with him, busty brunette in tow, and he was currently pawing her in the seat opposite. It didn’t bother Kevin: it was AJ after all; he had come to expect it.
The limo pulled up outside the hotel. AJ and Girl 37 (and counting) failed to notice, despite the girl sliding off AJ’s lap and being deposited on the floor of the limo as they came to a halt. Kevin stifled a chuckle and stepped out of the door that had been opened for him by the chauffeur. Security was relaxed: it was too late and too cold for all but the most determined autograph hunters. Even if there were any, they would probably be waiting in the warmth of the lobby, which the Boys avoided by taking the back route through the kitchens.
Kevin wandered slowly through the hotel car park towards the staff entrance. He passed a woman, leant against the bonnet of a car with a bottle of water in her hands. Her shoulders were hunched over and her short brown hair hung into her face as she intently watched her fingers playing with the bottle cap. Kevin identified her as the woman he had seen on the motorway earlier that morning; the one who had been as exasperated as himself about the traffic, the one whose anguished posture he could recognise in his own. Her face had been hidden to him earlier, as it was now, and he had no idea why he was so positive she was the same woman, other than he felt the same affinity, the same connection that he had before. Despite his silent approach, her head snapped up, almost as if she could feel his presence drawing near, and her ice blue eyes connecting with his.
She took his breath away. Even in consideration of her tired expression, most would describe her as beautiful, but Kevin never noticed. All he saw were her eyes: pale blue, the colour of shadows on snow, eyes that possessed a sparkle that defied her slumped body language. Neither broke eye contact until Kevin had reached the hotel door; their heads turning so that the stare could be maintained, time seemingly slowing so the connection between them could last an eternity.
Kevin shook his head; blinked a couple of times. He rubbed his own eyes, feeling emotionally exhausted from the thirty-second walk from the limo to the hotel kitchen. He was intrigued by the woman, wanting to understand how so much spirit and lustre could be visible in the eyes of someone whose wearied physical appearance gave the impression to the rest of the world that she was close to giving up.
Then came an emotion that confused him. He suddenly remembered a myth he had once been told: that every person has half a soul, and spends their whole life searching for their other half in order to be complete. Previously, he had never been sure that he believed in soul mates: he had always found it hard to accept the concept that two people could have souls that were so similar that they were interchangeable. But in that instant, leaning against one of the highly polished stainless steel surfaces in the hotel kitchens, he was less convinced that the concept of soul mates was as ridiculous as he had earlier believed. He pushed himself to a standing position and began the walk to his room, perplexed as to how mere eye contact with a woman, of whom he had been aware of no more than her eyes, could invoke the suggestion of such a connection between them.
As he reached the elevator, Kevin considered the following day. They
were leaving tomorrow. Momentarily he considered heading back outside to
talk to the woman, but realistically he knew that at present he didn’t
have the courage to face the possible consequences. Pressing the button
for his floor, Kevin realised he was unconcerned about leaving the city
the next day: he undoubtedly knew he would see the woman again.
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