The Fifth Elemental

Chapter 1

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un·fa·mil·iar
/ˌənfəˈmilyər/

adjective
Not known nor recognized.

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|Chapter 1

Lena
17 years later

I wiped the last shot glass clean, my eyes wandering around the bar. I noticed someone sit on the stool in front of me and as I lifted my head up, I was greeted by sickeningly blue malice. Someone should name an eyeshadow after those eyes.

"Anything?" I asked the unfamiliar guy as I rested both my elbows on the counter table, wanting to know what he would like to have.

His eyes left mine and scanned the selection of drinks behind me, I moved to the side, allowing him to see the rest of the available drinks.

"I'll have a Patron Dew." His eyes flicked back towards me, his thumb trailed down his jawline as his lips slowly formed a smirk.

Realizing I've been staring at him, I tried to look away. "Neat?" I asked, trying my best not to stutter.

"Do you think you can serve it with your number?" I almost laughed, did he really think that that would work?

"Neat it is." I simply said and walked away, about to prepare his drink.

He must be new here, I've never seen him in this bar before, and he doesn't know me either. I know almost everyone who comes here, and they definitely know better than to ask for my number.

"Lena." I stopped my tracks and looked behind, where the voice came from. How does he know my name?

I looked at him carefully, trying to gain some recognition of his face, he wouldn't know my name if I don't know him; and on second thoughts, he actually looks quite familiar.

"I'm sorry, Have we met before?" I asked the mysterious man.

He shook his head no, his smirk still resting on his lips. What's wrong with him? Out of confusion, I just continued to walk away, yet I was stopped for the second time.

"What do you want?" I looked at him once more with irritation showing through my eyes. I don't even know him, I'm wasting my time.

"We haven't met before, but I've met your parents."

He's lying.

He looks too young for a person who would know my parents. They died when I was a two year old, and this guy pretty much looks like he's the same age as me.

"Bullshit." I countered, but he just stood from his seat and walked towards me.

"I'm not lying, Alena." I gasped after hearing the almost unfamiliar name, only my grandfather called me with my real name; and after he died, no one has ever called me Alena.

"Well my parents are gone, so if you came to this town to have a little chat with them, they're not here." He may not be lying about knowing my parents, but I sure as hell dont care about what he has to say about them.

"I know they're not here. Even if they were alive, we both know they won't be in this city."

Yet again, he was right. I left New Orleans a long time ago. It was where the accident occured. And it was where my gramps died out of a cardiac arrest. And here I am, in New York. I'm not sure if I was looking for an escape, or if I just wanted something new.

"Look, I don't know who you are. And whatever you're here for, I'm not interested - at all. So if you don't mind, kindly piss off."

He nodded understandingly as he ran his fingers through his hair. He walked closer towards me and stared at me with his bright blue eyes. He leant down to whisper something in my ear. I didn't move, I was too overwhelmed to do so.

"If you ever change your mind, just call." He whispered and handed me a white card, with capitalized neon blue letters forming the word 'Gale'. I turned the card around but there was nothing in the card except for the said word.

"Lena!" I heard my boss shout and the card fell out of my hand. I picked it up and stood so I could protest to the stranger, but he was gone.

I studied the bendable card, it's reflective colour and the neon letterings; and for some reason, I slipped it inside my pocket.

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A/N
Image referring to Lena, embodied by Taylor Hill.