The gate creaked as I pushed it open. Dark clouds swirled in the sky, acting like they were ready to explode with rain. Along with the clouds came the wind, causing me to shiver and cross my arms to keep warm. Why was I here? It confused me to think that I was attending a matchmaking party for a man I had never met. All I knew was that his name was Brandon Flowers, and he had invited me to his house on the tallest hill in town.
I was 16, a sophomore in high school, and when I received the invitation for this in the mail, I was completely shocked. Very few men payed attention to someone like me. Also, like I said, I had never met a man named Brandon Flowers before. Rumors about him always swirled around town, though. There were a few that said he was wealthy but antisocial and that was why he never left his home. Some other folks said that he was immortal, doomed to live until the end of time itself, and he roamed the halls of his mansion wishing for death. There was only one picture of him that I knew was in existence, and he was very attractive. Short dark hair, alluring brown eyes... it was enough to make any girl swoon. I knew that for a fact, because once when I was looking through the newspaper out of sheer boredom, I found the picture of him and immediately had to hold myself up to keep from collapsing. Then, three years after the picture, I was invited to a matchmaking party for Brandon himself. How coincidental.
Walking up the curved, paved driveway, my mind bombarded itself with all of the things that could go wrong. Images of me laying or sitting upright somewhere with blood pouring out of stab wounds filled my mind, and I shook my head to try to get rid of it all.
"Nothing is going to go wrong," I whispered to myself. "It's just a matchmaking party. He probably won't notice you at all anyway." Pulling the invitation out of my pocket, I check to make sure it's still real. I wouldn't want to show up at the mansion of Brandon Flowers all dressed up without having a reason. Yes, there it still was: a small red paper with the words handwritten in a formal kind of font. I wondered who wrote it. Maybe it was Brandon himself? No, it couldn't have been. It must have been someone else that lived there. Did someone else live there? My mind felt scrambled as I approached the big front door. It was larger than it needed to be. Sure, it was a mansion, but the door seemed too big. Hesitantly, I knocked on the door. I shouldn't have been there. This already wasn't my kind of scene, I could tell. I considered turning around and ditching, but I was too late. The door was already beginning to open.
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AN: im sorry its kinda short, but i hope its good (so far)!
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Matchmaker (a Brandon Flowers fanfic)
Fanfiction"An excellent man, like precious metal, is in every way invariable; a villain, like the beams of a balance, is always varying, upwards and downwards." -John Locke [very temporary, very small hiatus]
