Burning Ice

Foreword

This story was written in the late months of 2018. And yet, I'm only just getting around to posting it. Part of this is due to the fact that I have never attempted to pen a short story before, so I was rather unsure of what reception it would garner. But the more sincere truth is that this story was heavily influenced by someone, someone who I couldn't bear to lose. And yet, as time passed, I felt us slowly drift apart. Perhaps it was all my fault, perhaps not, I will never fully understand my feelings for them. However, part of moving on is learning to let things go, and that is what I intend to do by putting this story out there.

This story is dedicated to the person who changed my cynical view on life. If you are reading this, you know who you are. I am forever in your debt, and I can only hope that you can forgive me, for everything.

Blurb

In an alternate reality where women burn up and men freeze unless they find their significant other, this story revolves around 1 such pair of individuals. Set in the United Kingdom, will Saoirse and Callum find each other before it's too late?

Chapter 1 - Saoirse

It had happened towards the end of Saoirse’s shift at the diner. The bartender was winding up behind the bar while she had just about finished clearing the tables. Without warning, a searing pain, concentrated like a bullet hole, shot through her head, and she felt her feet buckle beneath her.

The rest of the evening had been quite vague – she thought she’d heard glass shattering, and then, she felt a cool cloth draped over her face. The next thing she remembered was waking up in her bed, possibly several hours later.

She had checked her phone – a single text message from Caleb greeted her.

“let us know if you need anything, here for you :)”

Despite the throbbing discomfort, she managed a smile – Caleb always seemed to cheer her up. She had replied almost immediately.

“thanks love, i think i’ll survive for now haha xx”

                                                       – X –

It had been a week since Saoirse had felt her temperature spike. The memory was still fresh in her memory, and apparently, she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it.

The gaffer had been less than sympathetic when she’d showed up that afternoon, and it had taken all her willpower to not paste him in the throat. Instead, she settled for sobbing her eyes out in front of an irate and (now) mildly uncomfortable 54-year old. She’d have kept on going had Caleb not interceded on her behalf. “Oi, what’s you saying to her then? Say it to me, you div,” were his exact words. How poetic. Her manager, for his part, wasn’t in any mood to argue. He invited them to leave with a polite “areet, piss off, I’m losin’ money ‘ere,” and that was the end of that.

“Lenny’s got a stick up his arse today, innit,” mumbled Caleb when they were out of earshot. “It’s been ages since he’s warmed up, how would he even remember what this feels like,” replied a distraught Saoirse in between sobs.

Caleb sat her down in the corner booth of the pub. Saoirse had her face in her hands, so she didn’t see Caleb’s strong arms drape themselves around her. She welcomed the feeling, it had been ages since she’d had anyone watching her 6. “Lenny wants me’t replace that Royal Salute I broke,” he said. Saoirse didn’t understand. Caleb must’ve sensed her confusion, because he let out a wistful laugh. “Aye, I forgot, you were on’t floor, I heard ye fall, and while I run over, must’ve dropped her behind’t bar.”

Saoirse couldn’t believe her ears – that bottle was over 50 years old, the scotch was priceless. And here Caleb was, making it seem like her well-being was worth it.

She retrieved her head from her palms and her moist eyes met his.

She had never really considered Caleb in that way. Now, as she surveyed his tired face, she began to notice him, really notice him – his pale blue eyes, his scruffy hair, his slightly misshapen nose, everything seemed to stand out now. Caleb was still looking for his warmer half. Could he be the one?

“Areet, then? Yer lookin’ at meh funny,” he said, slightly perplexed.

Without planning it, she cupped his face in her hands and drew him close. The kiss was unlike she’d experienced before; slow at first, she found her lips betraying a sense of primal urgency, and then she felt herself let go. Caleb reciprocated with just as much passion, his tongue doing dances on her own in a way that she couldn’t perfectly describe. His breath tastes of spearmint, she thought to herself giddily.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two broke apart. Suddenly, everything around Saoirse seemed to be in high definition. Caleb’s face seemed so much brighter now, and his mouth was still open in disbelief. “W-wow,” he stammered. His typically smooth Yorkshire accent seemed almost nervous. She visibly echoed his trepidation, and this must’ve broken the tension, because Caleb let out a nervous chortle. Saoirse felt her worries melt away. His laugh was infectious, and she followed suit. Maybe he’s the one, she thought to herself, unable to contain her emotions anymore.

A sudden painful jolt in her head and she felt her grip on Caleb’s face wane. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the frenetic look on his face.

Chapter 2 - Callum

“Clean up on aisle 4! Callum, get on it!”

Cal scrambled to the produce aisle with his mop, where he surmised that someone had apparently decided to have an earthquake and drop a carton of two-percent and an entire crate of eggs all over the lane. Clean up was always the worst, and being vegan didn’t make it any easier. The whole aisle reeked – he could almost taste the sour milk and it was enough to make him retch.

After several minutes of gagging and complaining, Cal had just about finished mopping the lane when his manager decided to call him out. “Right, what’s you takin’ this long for? People been waitin’t’ get theirs for ages, quit faffin’ about,” she said in a restrained voice undercut with a tone of “you’re in big trouble.” “Yes, Anthea, almost done,” he muttered, using all his willpower to not snap and call her a twat.

The only plus side of working at the local Sainsbury’s was that it was close to uni. He hated the hours, despised the management, and the pay was pitiful. Unfortunately, he needed the work, he had rent to pay and student loans to justify.

After his 5-hour shift, Cal was just about done with life. There was nothing to look forward to after work, his roommates were working graveyard calls that night; he’d have to make do with his old friend Jack Daniel’s instead.

As he was unchaining his bike, Anthea caught up to him. “Callum, need you covering for Briony this weekend,” she said in her drawling monotone. I’d rather shove a cactus up my arse than work clean up, he thought to himself. “I’m sorry, Anthea, I have plans for Saturday. Can’t you get Matt?” he said, quite soberly. “Nah, can’t be ‘avin’ that, cancel your plans, you’re comin’ in,” she said bluntly.

That did it.

“D’you know what, ¬Anthea?” He spat the name out like it was venom. “I, quit. I don’t need this shite anymore, you lot can fuck, off. Have fun finding your cover.” With that, he shoved the lock and chain into his pack and took off into the evening chill.

                                                       – X –

Cal decided to take the longer route home, the one through Roundhay. Once he reached the south end of the park, he decided to dismount and take a walk.

By any standards, it was a relatively quiet Thursday. Looking around, he could make out different groups of people in the park. First off, the usual walkers who were with their dogs, and it always excited him to see what breeds people had – so far, he’d passed by a couple terriers and a large Bernese. Then there were the regular picnickers, having a whale and scaring off the local wildlife of the avian variety in the process. The ducks seemed to realise that they were better off in the company of the pensioners, who’d all remembered to bring their bird seed along (even if some of them had forgotten to match their tops and their trousers). And finally, there were the Cals – lonely people just looking for some peace and quiet.

Ambling along the track running around the Upper Lake, Cal felt the cool breeze caress his choppy black hair. It felt almost as if someone were ruffling his hair so as to say, “good job, you dolt!” He stopped by the fountain and looked into the stillness of the lake. His delicate face seemed weary, his electric blue eyes looking back at him piercingly. Cal wasn’t one to fuss about his appearance, but he’d secretly always hated how pointed his nose was – the wind was now rippling the water, and his nose suddenly seemed too round. Apparently, there was no middle ground.

He was still trembling, but he didn’t know why. Was it nervousness? Exhilaration? Perhaps jubilance? Cal tried to put it out of mind and continue walking down the track, but the cold was chilling to the bone now. In the back of his mind, he could feel a sense of foreboding. The cool evening was suddenly biting at his insides like tiny pinpricks of frost.

In a panic, he sprinted back to where he’d left his bike, not realising just how far away he’d wandered off. He didn’t understand just why he wasn’t feeling the heat after a good 5-minute dash, the perspiration only served to numb his skin. His bike was still propped up against the pole, next to a friendly Australian family with their loud radio tuned to BBC Radio 3.

It happened so suddenly that Cal didn’t even have the time to process what was happening – he felt his back straighten unnaturally and he collapsed in a heap on the cold grass. He could just about hear the radio host cut to the weather forecast – “… thank you, Jim, as we were saying, get ready for what meteorologists are expecting to be the hottest summer day we’ve had in a while…” – before he felt consciousness slip away.

Chapter 3 - Callum and Saoirse

“Ey up, Cal, how’s you feeling now?”

“Look, you need anything, just give us a ring, we’ll be right ‘round.”

“Stay strong, Callum, you’ll get there eventually.”

Cal wondered how many times in the last week he’d had conversations that followed similar trajectories. If there was one thing he hated more than drawing attention to himself, it was being pitied by his friends and family. He wasn’t an invalid by any means, why should he be treated like one?

“Bloody hell, ye look mint, don’t you, ye daft bastard,” said his best mate Craig, after Cal had hung up in the middle of yet another sympathetic phone call, this time from his mum.

“Fuck off,” he replied with a wry smile on his face. At least there was someone in his life whose words weren’t dripping with condescension.

“Still mopin’ about, are we? Thought you’d’ve been used to it by now,” continued Craig, leaning against the kitchen counter and lighting up a bifta. “What’s this now, thrice this month?”

“Again, fuck off,” mumbled Cal.

Craig chuckled and passed on the blunt to Cal, who took a deep drag and found himself almost immediately light-headed. He usually wasn’t one to smoke, but he needed a clear head to distract himself tonight.

“How old were you when it stopped?” Cal asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Craig seemed to pick up on his unease. He sat down next to him on the fold-out and plucked the joint from his hands. He inhaled sharply, taking a moment to let the marijuana wash over him before slowly exhaling.

“I remember it like it was yesterday.”

                                                       – X –

The bath had started out cold, but it didn’t seem to be helping anymore. Saoirse still felt feverish, her insides tingling. With a sigh, she got out of the tub, draped herself in a towel, and tiptoed her way back to her room. Once she’d locked the door, she let the towel fall to the floor.

Stepping in front of the mirror, Saoirse took a moment to examine her naked figure. Her honey blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, spilling over her breasts. She pulled her hair back and tied it into a pony, revealing their ample form. Without any lingerie, they sat lower than usual, less close together, more natural. She twisted her torso and ran a hand up her smooth derrière, feeling for any imperfections. Her shapely legs were barely visible in the darkened room, so it looked like she was a floating apparition. On most days, she wasn’t particularly bothered by her looks; however, after her latest “episode,” she wondered how long her 24-year old body would last.

A door outside hers clicked – her roommate was back. Donning her slacks and a printed tee, she stepped outside to greet Kirsty.

Kirsty was clearly drunk – she’d left the front door wide open and she seemed to have had some beef with the umbrella stand, because the umbrellas were strewed all over the landing. Sighing, she restored the umbrellas to their usual place by the door and walked into the living room to find Kirsty, face-down on the couch. Saoirse prodded her lightly in an attempt to wake her up.

“Mmmm, who is it?” Kirsty said drunkenly. Saoirse couldn’t help but laugh; her friend was so far gone, she wouldn’t remember anything come the morning. Not wanting to disturb her, she draped a blanket over her limp body, turned off the lights, and retired back to her own room.

                                                       – X –

Saoirse hated being alone with her thoughts, the voices in her head only tortured her and nothing else. And yet, as she sat on her bed, wrapped up in her duvet, the only voice she could hear was that of her doctor from earlier in the week.

“Saoirse, love, I’m afraid once it’s started, there’s only one way to end it. Your body will only get warmer until you find your colder half. There’s really nothing I can do about it.” The words had echoed through her mind since, constantly ringing hollow.

Now, as she stared out her bedroom window, she could feel a single bead of perspiration form above her brow and trickle down her cheek.

                                                      – X –

“It wasn’t easy, but I finally got her’t go out with us,” finished Craig, handing the spliff back to Cal, who was could feel himself fading with each hit.

“See, that’s just it, you found the girl to warm you up ages ago. Only took you 2 years to catch her eye,” said Cal, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Aye, my point is, yer gonna find her. You just have to find her before you freeze to death,” replied Craig very matter-of-factly.

“Gee, thanks, you wanker, made us feel much better,” Cal groaned. “2 years Talia had you, yeah?”

“Talk about blue balls, mate,” chortled Craig, sending both of them into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

Chapter 4 - Callum

The morning after was just as he’d expected it to be. Cal couldn’t feel his face as he de-plastered himself from the couch. For some reason, his trousers were hanging off the ceiling fan; fortunately, his pants were still on. Craig wasn’t in much better shape. Apparently, at some point during the night, he seemed to have traded the comfort of the fold-up chair for the solace of the cold hard floor, and he appeared to be doing his best impression of a camel, with his arse in the air, high above the rest of his slumped body.

Stumbling his way to the kitchen, Cal set the kettle on the stove and propped himself over the counter. He felt drained, although he wasn’t sure if that was from the weed or the debilitating hypothermia within. He could hear a constant static-like background noise in his ears and his usually focussed mind was now foggy, clarity only occasionally darting into his thoughts.

The whistle of the kettle jostled him back to the present. He poured himself a cup and dipped a bag of jasmine tea into it. He allowed the calming aroma to waft over him and clear his head.

The dromedary in the other room groaned audibly. Cal poured out another cup and chucked in some fresh brew for Craig. But the moment he walked back into the living room, he knew something was wrong with Craig – for one, his eyes were bloodshot, and for another, he seemed to be… blue. As if he were freezing from the inside-out…

The coffee mug had an unplanned rendezvous with the floor as Cal rushed to his friend, panicked, trying to straighten him up against the couch.

“Craig, mate, are you alright? Can you hear me?” he said, alarmed. His friend’s breathing was shallow, he was getting colder by the second.

“Cal… I have to… tell you…” mumbled Craig, almost incoherently.

Cal was having none of it. “I’m calling 999, you’ll be alright, everything will be alright, just stay with me, bruv, please, just hang, on,” he stammered, dialling the number on his landline.

“She left… I can’t…” continued Craig, his voice almost a whisper. Cal couldn’t bear to see his mate like this, he had to turn away.

“999, what is the nature of your emergency?”

“Hurry, I need an ambulance, 22 Whiteley Street!” yelled Cal hurriedly to the operator on the other side.

“Callum…”

That got Cal’s attention – no one ever used his full name.

“Callum… Talia’s… dead…” said Craig with some difficulty.

Cal couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The woman who’d saved Craig from freezing up was gone. It all started making sense now.

Cal was suddenly livid. “Craig, ye paigon, why didn’t you tell me this before? We could’ve done something besides sitting at home and getting blazed!”

Despite everything, Craig managed to find that roguish smile of his. His blood-red eyes met Cal’s and he knew the memory of this gaunt face would be forever etched into his memory. Craig opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t find him. Cal felt the resentment dissolve just as quickly as it had sat in.

“What’s I supposed to do? I… I need you here, Craig, don’t go…” Cal sobbed.

“Go… find her…”

With that, Craig shuddered and went limp.

Cal couldn’t remember what happened next. His neighbours would later tell him that they’d heard an anguished wail from his flat, only to find him hunched over the body of a sickly-looking man.

                                                     – X –

“Mr. McGinley, do you have somebody to talk to? You shouldn’t be alone.”

The voice was soft and consoling, but the words fell on deaf ears.

“Mr. McGinley,” the voice said, a little more insistent this time.

Cal turned his head and locked eyes with a petite woman wearing a green uniform.

“Are you going to be alright?” asked the paramedic.

Cal didn’t know how to answer her. In the last few days, he’d lost his job, he’d lost a lot of money, he’d fallen behind on uni coursework, and now, he’d lost his mate. Oh, and if he didn’t find the girl that could warm him up, he’d freeze to death like Craig.

“I’ll be fine,” he murmured after a long time.

The paramedic hesitated – she was evidently not convinced – but she rounded up the rest of her team and left Cal alone in his grotty flat.

                                                     – X –

It was almost sundown when Cal finally decided what he was going to do.

He retrieved the roll of cash stuffed inside his trainers and stuffed the last of his food into a bag. He wrote a note for the neighbours, using the words he’d practised over and over in his head the last couple of hours. He picked up his wallet from off his bedside table and left his keys on the counter – he wasn’t coming back.

Donning his hoodie, Cal walked out the door and into the stormy Mancunian night.

Chapter 5 - Saoirse and Callum

“Wagwan, peng ting, where we off to tonight?” a random passer-by jeered at her.

Saoirse was still learning to take the “compliments” the right way – the crowd on the streets at night in London was a new kettle of fish compared to her old life in Sheffield. So far, she’d gathered that walking away in a hurry only encouraged them. Still, she was in no mood to handle drunk and horny men tonight.

The past week had been literal hell for her – she’d left Caleb behind to deal with Lenny, she’d had another fainting spell on the train ride here, she’d been forced to “satisfy” a 40-year old man in exchange for a place to stay for the night only to be chased out of the house in the middle of the night by his wife, and she’d now spent most of the money she’d saved up. It was as though everything about this city was designed to leave her feeling beaten, physically and emotionally.

“D’you want us to follow you home tonight? Keep you safe and that? ‘Course, you gonna have to be well grateful, if you know what I’m on about,” he echoed, tauntingly.

Saoirse felt the heat course through her veins, fuelling her temper. She was done being life’s punching bag.

She wheeled around and sized up her opposition. Just a scrawny chav, alone at a bus stop.

She didn’t hesitate. She could see him visibly flinch with every step she took. Was that fear in his eyes? She wasn’t about to wait to find out. In one fluid motion, Saoirse had her 3-inch heels acquaint themselves with his bollocks. He howled in agony and doubled over, grasping his manhood and gasping for breath.

“Consider that foreplay, love,” she said, her oddly-sweet voice barely managing to mask the unhinged rage seething within. “It’s funny, you look better on your knees than I ever could,” she cooed. With that, she swung her leg and connected with his temple, knocking him out.

As if on cue, it started to rain. Saoirse could feel her anger dissipating with each drop that doused her. She scanned her surroundings, looking for a place to shelter herself. She saw a dim light at the corner of the street – a phonebooth. It’ll have to do for now, she thought to herself, hurriedly dashing towards it.

Luckily for her, it wasn’t occupied. Saoirse got in and slammed the door behind her. The rain wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down. As she stared out from her tiny enclosure, she caught a reflection of herself in the glass. She couldn’t recognise what she saw; her hair clung to her face and neck, her lip was cut, and her hazel eyes seemed to be holding back a myriad of repressed emotions – urgency, desperation, loneliness, and hostility. No wonder the bloke at the bus stop cowered in her presence.

Finally, she thought, a win.

                                                     – X –

The clubs in Central London were easy enough to get into, even more so when Saoirse exploited her good looks. She’d gotten frighteningly good at getting people to do what she wanted in the last few days. She’d concluded that this city was a cesspool for all the desperados looking for their other halves. She was no different – her fever had only gotten worse over the last few days, and she could feel herself dwindling.

Tonight, Saoirse had flirted with the bouncer at The Mayfair Club and gotten in, much to the annoyance of several women waiting outside. If only they’d suss out that guys only want one thing, she thought to herself, making her way to the bar. She ordered herself a Cosmo and surveyed the crowd. There weren’t many people, unusual for a Friday night. Still, she could’ve sworn there was something about tonight – maybe she’d finally catch a break.

                                                     – X –

The Cuckoo Club is breath of fresh air from the usual anonymous clubs around Central London. 5000 square feet spread across 2 floors, the establishment promises to deliver unbridled and unquestionable glamour to London’s party cavalry with its electrifying and eclectic musical output.

No wonder it had been the first choice on Cal’s hit list.

He had a good feeling about tonight – perhaps he’d luck out.

Chapter 6 - Callum and Saoirse

Cal was sat at the bar waiting for his Sleepy Hollow when he was approached by a stunningly-attractive woman. She was very obviously tipsy, but there was no doubt in his mind that she’d meant to come over to him.

“Wagwan, mate, fancy a dance?” she said, a mischievous twinkle on her face.

Cal couldn’t get the words out of his mouth, but as it turned out, it was only rhetorical. She took him by the hand, pushed past a clique of Upper Sixth girls, and led him out on to the dance floor.

Under the strobe lights, Cal could only catch glimpses of the woman whose hands were now wrapped around his neck. She was wearing a black dress that ended several inches above her knees, threatening to expose more of her immaculate physique. She had the gladiators to match, delicately wrapped around her shapely legs. The look she was giving him made it all too obvious for Cal. He slid one hand up her back into her long flowing hair and had the other hand clasp her waist, ushering her closer.

“So, you found yours yet?” she asked, rhythmically swaying her hips to the music.

“If I had, d’you think I’d be sat in a club at 7 in the evening on a Friday?” he responded with a dry laugh.

His answer was met with an almost-lyrical laugh. Everything about this girl seemed to be tearing down his defences and leaving him vulnerable. He’d never felt like this with anyone else before, and there was a growing realisation in his trousers that definitely backed him up.

“Well, in that case, nice to meet you, I’m Nora,” she said, ceasing her dance and tilting her head upward to look him in the yes.

Cal was slightly special when it came to women, but even he knew what to do next.

He pulled her in close, just as much as she did. They met in the middle, and it was a full-on, open-mouthed, enticing kiss. Cal could hear her breathing become shallow as he glided his tongue along the contours of hers. He could feel her grabbing at his hair and clutching his face, the undertones of lust becoming more and more apparent. He lowered his right hand to the small of her back and traced circles, prompting a barely-audible whimper from her.

They broke apart after ages with a sensual pop punctuating the now muted club atmosphere. Eyes still closed, mouth still open, Nora looked like every woman from Cal’s fantasies.

But something wasn’t quite right.

It took him a second to realise – he didn’t feel any different. The throbbing desire in his pants couldn’t obscure the fact that he still felt frozen inside. Nora must’ve picked up on it, too; tears silently streamed down her face, corrupting her beautiful features. What had been an exhilarating affair moments ago had deteriorated into a demoralising vicissitude just as quickly as it had started.

He knew he had to say something, he couldn’t just leave this hanging.

“Nora…”

“It’s alright,” she cut him off with a snivel, “I hope you find her soon.”

And with that, she swivelled on her heels and made a beeline for the toilets, leaving Cal stranded among a crowd of faceless people.

                                                     – X –

There’s always been something riveting about the number 3 throughout the history of humanity – 3 is the number of Fates in Greek mythology, 3 is the number of pyramids at Giza, 3 is the number of days it took for Jesus to be resurrected after crucifixion. Most people seem to take 3 attempts as the benchmark for having experienced something thoroughly – likewise, after her 3rd failed encounter of the night, Saoirse was ready to give up.

She couldn’t take any more of the obnoxious twats that just wanted to use her as a stripper pole, even the mental image of their rank breath and indelicate hands on her skin was enough to make her hurl. She shoved her way through the multitude of people and headed for the rainy London streets.

Chapter 7 - Saoirse and Callum

The night had started off with such promise; now, however, Saoirse was reduced to roaming around aimlessly on the unforgiving streets of London on a cold and damp night. She didn’t know where she was going and she didn’t know what to expect – all she knew was that she would burn up not long from now unless she found whoever out there was for her. She could only hope he was out there searching for her, too.

                                                     – X –

Pacing outside in the rain, Cal wished that he’d at least stayed for his drink. He had a strong suspicion that he could’ve done with a little liquid courage for what he was about to do next. He couldn’t keep a straight mind and all his thoughts were muddled. In a fit of restrained rage, he punched a bin. Unsurprisingly, pain shot up his right hand and he howled in pain. Another reason to have had a couple pints first, he cursed internally.

                                                     – X –

Walking down Piccadilly, Saoirse felt a sudden twinge in her head. Not another one, she thought to herself, resigning herself to her fate.

But this was different, this was something else.

It was as though her internal compass was recalibrating itself, homing in on something. Saoirse felt her insides reinvigorated – this pain was welcome.

Just as abruptly as it started, it ended, relinquishing her of her newfound energy and bringing her to her knees.

Whatever had just happened was enough of a signal for Saoirse – shakily, she got back to her feet and hurried down the road, not knowing what to expect or where to find it.

                                                     – X –

His Sleepy Hollow was waiting for him. Cal downed it in one go and instantly wished he hadn’t – the herbs left his breath tasting and smelling sickly sweet. At least he could feel the alcohol wash over him, dulling his senses and lowering his inhibitions.

“Have you seen this bird around? Fit, wearing a tight black dress?” he slurred, turning to the bartender.

As soon as he said it, he realised just how vague it sounded.

“You alright, mate? There’s hundreds of buff tings in here tonight, you need to give me more than that,” he chortled.

Cal groaned. He was feeling spent, the spirit and the cold coursing through his veins only made the frailty seem more acute.

He’d have to do this one on his own.

He felt a sharp pain in his head again, somehow different than the ones he had gotten used to. Downing someone’s half-empty bottle of beer from off the bar, he made his way towards the toilets.

                                                     – X –

She’d made to the corner of Piccadilly and Swallow when she felt the ache in her head again. This time, it felt as though she’d snagged herself on something and was being tugged towards it. She looked down the road and saw a well-lit, noisy club.

From where she was standing, she could vaguely make out the word “Cuckoo” tattooed on the side.

                                                     – X –

It was dark in the corner and he couldn’t see very well, but he could make out the faint sounds of sobbing in front of him. Cal put his hand out in front of him to feel for the wall; instead, he grazed someone’s cheek. He withdrew immediately. Before he could react, he was met with an indignant response from a familiar voice, “Oi, piss off, else I’ma get the bouncer!”

It was her, there was no mistaking it.

He didn’t even know how to begin.

“Nora…”

The crying abruptly stopped.

“It’s me again,” he continued, still unsure of what he was about to say.

He could feel a pair of eyes fixate on him and he knew he had her attention.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself a couple minutes ago, my name’s Cal.” He was met with a soft laugh, a sound that spurred him on.

“I just have to say something real quick, and if you don’t think it’s a good idea, I’ll leave you be. But please, hear me out,” he said.

He felt her hands reach out and clasp his, inviting him to sit down. The lights were now flashing intermittently, and he could see Nora’s gorgeous face barely inches from his.

Cal took a deep breath.

“I’m 26 now, and all my life, I’ve been told that I need to find the ‘girl to warm me up’ and all that. Nobody ever asked me what I wanted. I mean, they tell you it’s either follow-the-system or die. Who forces that choice on a 16-year old?”

“We’ve been conditioned to believe in a perfect world where everyone has their own match. No one ever talks about the outliers, no, we’re all too busy focusing on the ideals. We’re obsessed with finding fault in everything, why doesn’t someone challenge this shite? What if I wanted to stay alone my whole life? Maybe I prefer sleep to the company of another human. Why don’t I get what I want for once? Big up the people who actually manage to find what the need and want, fair play. But I’m not having any part in a vicious circle where we’re all brought to life only to die.”

“When you kissed me, I felt something, something I’d never had before. I’ve spent the last month looking for the girl that I need. Now, I realise that I should’ve been looking for a girl I want. And Nora, I want you. I don’t know when I’ma sign off, but I’m done caring. I just want to be happy for once.”

He lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes were glistening with tears and her palm was covering her mouth. Cal hadn’t seen anyone more ravishing.

“Also, I dunno if you know, but you’re a proper good snog,” he added, sheepishly.

She let out a muffled sound that sounded like a half-whimper, half-scream.

He couldn’t control himself anymore. He grabbed her face and pressed his lips to hers. She responded almost instantly, her tongue begging for an entrance into his mouth. Her grabbed her arms and threw them over her head, arching her head backwards. He allowed her hands to work their way into his shirt, clutching at his skin, leaving marks.

He detached himself eventually, his hands still wrapped around her. She let out a content sigh and opened her eyes – he’d only just realised they were brilliantly blue. He took her hand, and together, they walked out of the club.

                                                     – X –

Saoirse had barely got any breath left in her when she got to the club. She stumbled her way to the entrance, but her legs bolted and refused to support her any longer. She slumped against the wall and felt the consciousness slip away from her body.

Chapter 8 - Saoirse and Callum

The heat emanating from within was blistering. She couldn’t take much more of it.

She was just about to close her eyes when she saw a couple make their way out of the building.

There was something about the guy – the way his dark choppy hair fell over his face, the way he held himself up, the deep urging voice – that brought back some of her earlier vigour.

Could this have been whom she was looking for?

But… why was his arm draped around another woman?

He must’ve sensed something, for he turned around and looked straight at her with penetrating blue eyes.

His eyes widened, and momentarily, Saoirse felt her fever going down.

And just like that, he turned away and walked towards Piccadilly, leaving her stranded.

                                                     – X –

Cal knew.

That was her.

But he didn’t care anymore.

Looking down at Nora, he smiled, and continued walking into the night.