He started at his reflection in the gold mirror behind the bar in the old pub. It was not his face he saw, but the chains that bound him.
Defeat was maddening.
Especially for the ones who believed it didn't exist.
In the same mirror he saw the gold band on his finger as it sparkled, the metal cold against his skin. It burned his eyes, but he kept watching. Because it was reminder of what his life was going to be. A reminder that everything was going to change.
Today was the day he had been defeated. The day he'd thrown his cards on the table and accepted his destiny. He couldn't undo what he'd done. It wasn't a game of poker he could walk away from. It was as real as his existence. As real as his wealth. As real as the lies and betrayals that attracted it. All his life he'd been running. But there would be no more running. He'd made this bed and now he had to lie in it.
He looked away from his reflection, unable to bear the horror that threatened to blind him. He let out a sigh, pressed his fingers between his brows and called for the bartender. He needed to clear his mind. He needed another drink.
The barman came over to him and placed his scotch before him. "Your first time here?"
He bit back a swore.
He was in no mood for a small talk, but answered nevertheless, "Yeah."
He still wondered what had brought him here. To this austere little pub in Old Hollywood. On the weekend, the place was packed with a sea of people. Cheerful voices. Laughter. Drinking games. Tinkling glasses. Lovers in secluded bays. Alll competing with the loud karaoke roaring in the background.
His family would be caught dead if they knew he was here. He wished he could have seen Mr. Ross, his attorney's face if he saw him drinking cheap scotch with the so called 'low lives'. Perhaps that was why he was here. Though they were unaware, him being here alone was a gaint 'fuck you' to all those who expected him to be a perfect picture of royalty and sophistication all the time.
"Sean Martin, is it?"
His gaze flew to the old barman. "How do you know who I am?"
Of course he knew who he was. Wasn't it last month when his company had topped the Forbes list? Sean Martin wasn't just a name. It was a brand. A multi-billion dollar brand that he'd built.
"Not many people who come here wear Gucci suits and Armani loafers, man," replied the man, looking somewhat amused. The name tag on his shirt that read 'Jim' reflected light as he added, "Also you're on the news."
Sean looked up immediately. His gaze flew up to the flat screen television at the right side of the bar. Images of a car wreck filled his vision. Right next to the wreckage was his picture. The one that had been clicked last week when he was leaving the Four Seasons after attending a gala.
He felt blood rushing through his ears. His teeth clenched and the grip on around the crystal tumbler tightened.
Big bold headlines in red and blue taunted him. The content disturbing him. His fist clenched around the glass as if it would shatter it. All of this was in the past now. It didn't matter anymore. He'd done what he had to do. And he'd do it all over again. But watching this... this havoc. It was more than he could take. Not now.
He swallowed and forced the words out through gritted teeth, "Change the channel, please."
If the man was surprised, he didn't let it show. Instead, he grabbed the remote and flipped the channel. Football fanatics screamed into the camera lens as their favorite team scored.
Instantly, his heart began to ease. His grip lossened around his glass. He'd always enjoyed football even though the last game he'd seen was over a decade ago. It was funny how that seemed like yesterday and a lifetime ago at the same time.
He downed his whiskey and let it burn all the way down. It didn't burn as much, which was a disappointment. The foreign object on his finger still bothered him. At once, he took the bloody thing off and scopped it in the pocket of his jacket. There was an insane kind of relief after he did. It was temporary, but he welcomed it.
This was not how his life was supposed to be. His soul was not meant to be trapped. Not meant to be tied down to a place, thing, or person. It was a shame that life had put him into a corner. If he said he hadn't expected this, he'd be lying. The universe was round indeed. Karma had a way of catching up with those who sinned. There was a price of each wrong. And he was paying. He kept telling himself that, but that didn't make it better.
The loud roar of applause made him wince, the sound bringing him out of his tangled thoughts. That kind of distraction was the last thing he needed. He must have been out of his mind when he decided to come to this madhouse.
Irritated by the the crowd, the noise, he stood up, slamming a few dollar bills on the counter. The hell with today.
Signing off, he went for the exit, iching to get away from the mayhem. He need some quiet. He needed peace. And he knew he would find it anywhere but here.
The announcer invited the next singer to step on the stage and people started to cheer. He quickened his pace, itching to get away from the menace. In that very moment, a feminine voice filled his ears.
"Hello everybody. I hope you're having a good time?"
Perhaps, the opposite, love.
"I'm going to sing a very special song for you all. It's one of my favorites and called I do believe, I hope you like it!"
The crowd went silent and a slow, seductive music poured through the speakers.
He had barely stepped one foot out the wooden door when the voice stopped him cold. His fingers tightened around the brass doorknob. He instantly recognized that song. I Do Believe by Donna Summer, the cheesy romantic bullshit his mother was obsessed with back in the day.
But that voice...
Her voice...
Curiosity slowly overruled him, luring his senses into her symphony, holding him back from leaving. Her voice was entrancing. He felt the tension in his shoulders ease down, felt his heartbeat slowing. His fingers released the doorknob and he turned to see the performer. His efforts were futile. He saw nothing but soft golden lights and a crowd of silent people, watching.
He frowned, and turned for the exit again, hazily eyeing a passerby smoking a cigarette.
"Incredible, isn't she?" came a whisper.
"She is," said another.
Incredible didn't do her justice. She was beyond incredible.
For the second time in a few minutes, he halted with one foot out the door. Her sweet voice was a sensual complex of sighs, soothing whispers, its sound fresh, angelic, gentle like a summer breeze. The words she sang to him, only him, making him fall in love with her voice. He was tempted to turn back and look again.
So he did.
From afar, a movement, a flash of the red dress, just a mere glimpse caught his eye. He couldn't see her face.
Trapped into a web of sin, he took himself by surprise when he advanced forward, and swallowed, hard. His footsteps began to follow the voice, his body humming with energy. It was like coming home. Home?
He took a step and another but suddenly stopped when his cell phone started ringing.
Letting out a harsh breath, he froze.
In that fleeting moment, his eyes fell to a painting of a garden hung on the dark brick wall across from him, a perfect view from where he stood. Garden of Eden. Eve handing Adam the apple.
He felt his breath hitch in his throat.
He turned away from the painting and walked out the door. Away from the temptation. The spell. A blessing or a curse, he didn't know.
He stepped on the busy pavement, relieved that he could breathe again. But it was temporary. The sounds of cars honking made him want to go back in there to seek comfort in her sweet melody. Something that only made him more determined to run the fuck away. Five minutes ago, he was just fine. In control. What the hell happened to him back in there?
Not happened, happening.
His palms were clammy, clenching into fists. His blood was rushing. His breathing was erratic. Adrenaline. Inferno. Nerves. Scared. Scared? He couldn't remember ever feeling scared.
He faltered, impatient hands reaching for the pack of cigarettes and a lighter in the pocket of his suit. Something he hadn't done in a long time. He lit up a cigarette and brought it to his lips. A filthy habit; a killer, he knew. He was quitting. He already did, actually. He kept a pack with him though, just in case if...
He needed it.
Right now, he needed it, desperately. To keep himself from doing something stupid. Like going back in that godforsaken place.
A fresh breeze hit his burning face just as he blew a puff of white cloud. His heartbeat eased, his breathing coming back to normal. But soon enough, he felt terrified again. He knew nothing about her. Not her name. He didn't even see her.
Go back in there.
He'd be out of his mind to.
Looking back at the pub for one last time, he made up his mind. Will he ever find her again?
He shook his head, walking away. No, he hoped. He hoped to God he never found her again.
****
Note: After much thought and procrastination, I eventually decided to keep the original concept of the story. The one I started out with. Anyone who still remembers the original that is, is AWESOME. Anyway, the plot and theme will be the same. However, it will be heavily edited. Some characters will have to go unfortunately. Changes in places and scenes settings will take place. Basically everything will be different and still the same. Hope you enjoy. And please be kind. I'm trying my best. Also, I hope you like the new synopsis. Love you!
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Casting of characters
Evelyn Reed (Eve)
Sean Martin
So, there it was! Chapter 1. I hope you liked it. Many more to come. I'm so excited. Add the book in your libraries and reading lists for notifications on new updates!
The song that the singer at the pub sang is called 'I do believe (I fell in love)' by Donna Summer. All the credit goes to the owner.
You can follow me on Instagram if you want. I post snippets, writing notes and other such stuff about the book there!