Los Angeles was not what she expected. Sure she had that thrill of seeing the Hollywood sign for the first time, to be in the city where so many amazing films had been produced. There was a surreal moment when she walked down the walk of fame, literally following in so many of her idols footsteps.
That was five years ago. The thrill, the magic had worn off, she just felt lonely. She had made it closer to the Hollywood sign, not in the way she wanted. She a barista, pouring coffee for the rich and famous. She didn't hate her job – it just about paid the bills, and everyone had to start somewhere, it was just frustrating. Boring. She hadn't got anywhere in the past five years. She was invisible. Just part of the scenery.
She'd thought about giving up. Crawling back home to New York, working for her mother. Swallowing her pride and making something of herself. One more night.
It was her last night in LA; of course she would end up here. At a party where everyone was invited, even the invisibles. The kind of party where the drinks are flowing and the room smells of money. Regina was not being entirely fair. It's not that she hated them, or judged them particularly- many of them had fought for where they were, had countless rejections. Many of them were nice ordinary people, whom were passionate and funny. It was just the whole atmosphere. It felt …almost fake. No one really enjoyed themselves; the paps were always looking for a story- or even a rumour. It was pleasantries. If you offered any of the people here a choice between Netflix, a bottle of wine and pizza or one of these parties, 99% would go for the Netflix, yet the viscous circle continued.
If she is entirely honest, this isn't the worst she's been to.
/
Robin had come to LA ten years ago; escaping the ghosts of his post, there's only so many whiskeys' you can have to drown your sorrows. Music had always been his escape. He dreamed of reigniting the jazz scene in Hollywood.
Instead he rented what can politely be described as a hovel, with far too much damp for the extortionate amount of rent he was paying. He's surviving just about, but he wants to live.
One thing he can say for sure. The American Dream is a load of bollocks.
He misses home. He misses the smell of rain. He misses the awkward but polite conversations that you have with the shop assistant. He misses his friends, not that he stayed in touch with many of them. He misses her, the woman who captured his heart- Marian. She was sweet but tenacious, a heart of gold, always willing to help. He loved her. He still loves her that's the problem. She died, tragically, unexpectedly. A car accident. It was quick, she wasn't in pain. It should have been comforting. It wasn't. She was his future. He almost laughed at himself, it's not like the world was made of pixie dust.
He still believes though, that's why he's still here- playing for some half arsed eighties cover band at another party. It's not what he dreamed of but he learned long ago you have to take whatever life gives at you.
/
She almost spits her drink when she hears the song, she wasn't expecting eighties. She's surprised but not unhappy, everyone likes a bit of cheesy pop. Or rather no one is quite sure if they like it or loathe it but sings along anyway, deciding not to care:
Everybody here is out of sight
They don't bark and they don't bite
They keep things loose they keep it tight
Everybody's dancing in the moonlight
She awkwardly dances and sings along, enjoying people watching, that's when she sees him. The guy from restaurant, Robin she thinks? A jazz number in a diner is far from the height of the musical industry but his talent is equally wasted here. He's better than this. He looks uncomfortable, it's almost cute. Cute? Where had that come from, Regina didn't find people cute. Regina didn't really like people. She was leaving tomorrow anyway and he would carry on wasting his talent.
He starts the first notes of Dancing in the Moonlight, it's far from the worst in their playlist, but it's not jazz either. It's not until the third verse until he actually looks up- he has no real reason to, he's not here to be seen, that he sees her. The mesmerising woman from the diner. There's something different about her, missing. It's then he realises, the spark is not gone, but she's hidden it. You could still get lost in her eyes, but the passion is gone. She's giving up. He once again feels frustrated at this place. People move here to make their dreams come true; instead it crushes them, painfully. He won't let her give up though. She deserves this; she's got what it takes. The feisty, tenacious, quick. She just needs a break, and someone to believe in her.
Their eyes lock, or maybe they don't and they're both overreacting, still neither of them look away. It should be disconcerting, that awkward shiver when you feel someone looking at you. It's not. Something feels right. She sees him smirk. Oh god, this can't be good. It's then she hears another familiar tune.
Looking from a window above
It's like a story of love
She doesn't realise he leaves the makeshift stage until she hears a voice, that promises nothing yet everything all at once start singing next to her
This is going to take a long time and I wonder what's mine
Can't take no more
Wonder if you'll understand it's just the touch of your hand
Behind a closed door
He doesn't hold her hand, but there is a silent exchange, one where they both agree to leave, she sees him now- and she wishes she hadn't, because it hurts. She can't do this. This isn't real. It never is.
They walk down the street and the silence isn't uncomfortable. She thinks of something to say though, just because she has to. She comes up with nothing.
He doesn't know what he's doing. He has nothing to offer her; apart from honour and a shot of whiskey- he has found it to be the most reliable source of magic. He isn't good for her- She's practically a queen- a queen who has yet to find her kingdom. He's nothing more than a common thief- an outlaw that doesn't fit in. He tries to think of something to say. He can only think of how beautiful she is.
She can see her car, and apparently his. So he wasn't just following her, so he's not a creepy stalker then, that's always reassuring. She has butterflies wondering what is going to happen. Is anything going to happen.
He has to do something- he refuses to let this night end now. It hasn't started yet. He looks out, down onto the city and he is reminded, that despite all the hardships, all the shitty obstacles, there is beauty everywhere.
He laughs; the view is romantic, almost like a painting. He smiles at her, taking a seat, patting down the space next to him.
His laugh, it's so pure so genuine. It makes her heart flutter. The view, that's what he's laughing at, it is almost funny- how possibly the most two lonely people in LA have ended up here, watching the sun set, basking the city in a warm glow. It's a shame really.
This is the start of an epic romance. Or it would be. If it wasn't the two of them. He wants it to be.
It's her call, she can tell by his face. Why does he have to be so damn honourable? She should like it, but she doesn't. She just wants a lovely night.
No. Regina. This can't work. This feeling, the faster heart beat is just because she knows she's leaving tomorrow and despite everything this has been her life for the past five years.
He looks cute, in his polyester suit. He would deny it, she's sure, if for nothing more than misplaced pride. It doesn't quite fit, but it suits him. His athletic figure manages to carry it. She doesn't know why she's thinking about the way his abs peep through his white cotton shirt. Or the fact that she's imagining him in a white tank top- making some sarcastic remark, because this can't work. Not for her. Regina is a failing actress who tomorrow is going to grovel to her mother, accepting every insult, every I told you so.
Robin sees the confusion in her face. She's conflicted about something. That makes two of them. He has lived by a code; he has to stick to it. He can't get in her way. Well he could but he's not going to. He wants to offer to help but he doesn't trust himself. So he just sits and waits, committing her to his memory. The Queen with love in her eyes.
"Robin, I'm sorry but you deserve more than me, you deserve someone who believes in romance. "
Robin tried not to look hurt, he wasn't entirely sure he succeeded but it was the best he could do. He offered her his hand.
Regina begged the tears to stay away. She hated this, wished she could give him something. She was confused when he offered his hand. She raised her brow in a silent question.
"I know, this is not me making it more than anything it needs to be. A dance milady- we wouldn't want to waste a lovely night? "
Maybe it was the smirk, the dimples, the shy confidence or just that she didn't want the night to end but she started to dance. A simple tap dance.
Robin smiled to himself and started mirroring her movements- surprised at how naturally in sync they were. Both finally felt free. The music slowed, and he reached, to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
Offering a sad smile she walks towards her car.
Robin sighs he doubts he's ever going to forget meeting her.
Thank you for reading
Please let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more. I have ideas for two more chapters, but not the time!