Angie, a live-in-the-now singer-songwriter on the cusp of fame, sweeps Mike, a proper Mama's boy and a structural engineer by day, off his feet the moment they shake hands.
They can't deny the chemistry between them, so they start with a boom. What'...
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▪️Saturday, December 19th, 2017▪️
▪️Los Angeles, CA▪️
The ride only takes minutes. The traffic on the highway does not impede our progress-I weave between the unmoving cars and find our exit. Angie's hands grip my waist, and the out-of-place feeling that accosted me in the lobby subsides. I should've brought more smart office clothes. I don't own a suit and going places I'd need one was not the plan. The pair of khakis I wore to the Friendsgiving Bash and a nice button down are the extent of dressy I have with me. Shopping is always an option, I guess.
"What's this place?" She takes her helmet off and passes it to me. "It doesn't look too Christmassy."
"Chinatown." I put both her and my helmets away and run a hand through my hair to get rid of the helmet head. Her two braids don't seem to be impacted. "We should come here during the Chinese New Year. The parade is amazing."
"I love parades, all things winter holidays really." She smiles at me, and it feels like a test. Like the answer will determine the course of the rest of the day. The rest of the trip.
"I noticed." I take her hand, and she wraps her fingers around my palm. "You have a little bit of Christmas everywhere with you."
"My favorite holiday." She swings our arms as we walk. "Never long enough."
"My mom and her parents are Greek, so we celebrated Christmas twice growing up. Once on December 25th and once on January 7th."
"Two Christmases? I'm in."
We stop in front of a nondescript white building.
"Our first stop." I gesture to the number 628 W. College Street.
"A dental office?"
"Well, now it is. The notoriety comes from it being a Jun Fan Gung Fu institute in late sixties. D'you know who the founder is?"
"No clue." She shakes her head. Her braids fly about her shoulders. "Didn't even know it's a thing."
"Oh, it's a thing." I strike a pose and say, "The art of fighting without fighting." No recognition flickers in her eyes at my quote from 'Enter the Dragon'. I lower my hands "It's a mixed martial art." Her stare remains confused. "Bruce Lee established it?"
"Bruce Lee. Like, the actor?" Hope peeks through her voice.
"He was an actor, yes-" I tread carefully, not to kill the light in her face "-but he had this whole martial arts philosophy."
"Philosophy? Didn't he die super young?"
"He did." How do I explain this to her? "I'm a Bruce Lee fan. You were looking to find out more about me. That's a key piece of information."
"You want to be an actor, like him?"
"No way, no. Dad spoiled the movie business for me. That's way too volatile and unreliable of a career, but I've studied several martial arts because of Bruce. When I was in middle school, I started exploring other styles. I wanted to learn Jun Fan Gung Fu, find a studio and train, but then the divorce happened. We moved to Chicago, and that remained a dream."
