You're out on a Friday night in New York City, going to buy some pizza, and you head to a late night place down the street. You're kinda tired, cause it's been a long day, and although you never usually eat pizza, it's so late that's all you can manage. It's around midnight, and you didn't get home until fifteen minutes ago, cause one of your coworkers won a hundred bucks in the lottery and wanted to celebrate, so you're starving, and the closer you get to the pizzeria, the more you're looking forward to your pepperoni pizza. After a fast-paced five minute walk, you're at the door to the pizzeria, and you walk in the door, the pizza man shouting: "HELLO!" from behind the counter. It's almost midnight, the place is about to close up, and the guy's probably had too much coffee, you think to yourself. You nod, and stand behind the one other guy in line, who's just grabbed a white plastic bag with what's obviously a pizza, and you wait impatiently as the guy takes out his wallet and puts a stack of coins on the counter. "Here," he mumbles with a voice that seems strangely familiar, and he turns around and takes a rushed step forward, walking right into you. You stumble a step backwards, and feels someone touch your arm, and that familiar voice says: "Oh, my God, sorry!" and you look up and see a man's face, jaw covered in beard stubbles, with messy, dark hair and a pair of hazel eyes looking at you. You stare, not quite able to believe what you see, and then you throw a glance at the hand on your arm, and then look up further, at his arm, slightly muscular and covered in tattoos. You recognize one in particular, a large tiger, and when you look back up at Adam Levine, he has the slightest outline of a smile on his face. The smile disappears when your eyes meet, and is instead replaced by apology.
"You okay?" he asks, and you nod, and smile a shy smile.
"Yeah, sure," you say. "Don't worry."
"YOU TWO WANNA HAVE A PICTURE OR SOMETHIN'?" You turn your head and look at the pizza man, who's shouting from behind the counter like you're standing fifty meters away. He grins. You look at Adam, insecure and questioning, but he just shrugs and turns towards the pizza guy. You carefully turn in the same direction, and pull out your phone from your back pocket, and then you walk to the pizza man and hands it to him after typing the password. You step back and stand next to Adam, close, and you are very aware of the arm that slowly lies around your waist, as you smile to the camera and wait.
"UH... THERE AIN'T NO MORE SPACE FOR PHOTOS," says the pizza guy then, just as you stand there, all ready, and you sigh, and know it's over. You can't stand there in the middle of the night having Adam Levine wait while you find pictures to delete so you can have a photo taken.
Just as the thought crosses your mind, sure enough you feel Adam's arm fall from your waist, and you are just about to take a step back, when you realize he's digging in his pocket. You stare as he finds his phone, and throws it, and you're holding your breath a as the pizza guy grabs it and smiles.
"THERE YA GO! SMILE!" he instructs, and you can feel how Adam's hand lies on your hip as his arm crawls back to where it was moments ago. You smile again, pretending your heart isn't racing in your chest with relief, and then, after a second, the pizza guy lowers the phone and throws it back to Adam, who pulls his arm from you to grab the phone with both hands. As soon as he's got it, he quickly starts doing something on his screen, and he briefly looks up, and says: "What's your number? Can I send it to you?" with a smile. You try to breathe like a normal person, and tell him your phone number, carefully, making sure all the digits are correct, and he looks up from his phone, waiting. Shortly after, you hear your own message tone coming from the pizza guy's counter, and you walk over and grab the phone, seeing the picture on the screen from an unknown number, along with a text message from that same number.
:)
You smile, and look over at Adam, and he smiles back.
"Right number?" he asks, and you nod. "Great."
"Thank you for having a photo taken with me in the middle of the night," you say, and he laughs, a little, easy laugh.
"Sure. It was nice." He waves, and motions towards the door of the pizzeria, heading outside. "Bye!" he says, and you wave back, and watch him as he leaves, standing for a moment, before finally following him.
It's only as you walk in the door and fall down on your couch, looking at the picture and the smiley below it, that you realize you never got to buy a pizza.
