Sing to Me

by Unknown

  Someone started shouting – to rev up the already excited audience – and Liv stopped thinking altogether. Being inside the familiar hangar and seeing all of the familiar props was more than enough to help her stay grounded and not concentrate on anything other than the up-coming show.

  With her heart pounding, Liv looked around in awe, glad about her last-minute decision to be where she was instead of on a plane back to the States.

  The show started and it made her smile to see and hear that the three personalities on stage were larger than life, talked really fast, and behaved like they were at a backyard barbeque instead of in front of a live audience.

  The hosts cracked their usual amount of jokes and poked fun at one another at regular intervals during each segment of the program. There seemed to be little time for Liv to grasp the scope of the situation or fully realize the excitement that slowly built up inside her. Concentrating on their rapid-fire dialogue was more important.

  During one of a few short breaks, the youngest member of that trio singled her out, making her blush. He stood with a cup of hot coffee in one hand and a few fingers tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “So, how do you like the show so far?”

  It was difficult not to act like a gushing fan, but she managed to pull it off.

  “It’s great,” she said. “A lot like watching it on television back home.”

  He appeared to be startled. “Wait,” he laughed. “You’re an American!”

  Smiling shyly, Liv nodded, knowing after years of having watched nearly every episode that he was the only member there who didn’t share the same amount of teasing dislike for the United States as his two co-hosts.

  Waving a hand near her chest, Liv laughed at his dumbfounded expression. “It’s alright. I don’t mind it a bit when you guys make fun.”

  He laughed some more. “No, I’m just . . . you’re definitely going to love our special guest. He’s from the U.S., too. I’ll bet you’ve heard of him.”

  Liv was curious, but before he could tell her who it was, he was called back to work. A stagehand had situated her behind the old, leather car seat prop used for the guest segment of the program. Liv stared at the oldest member of the trio on stage as he did his usual teasing lead-in introduction. She listened intently, trying to figure out who it might be when the man shouted, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Neal Hendrix!”

  Liv’s insides dropped to her feet: numb with shock, and her ears started to ring.

  No way.

  Someone brushed against her side, and while in a catatonic state, she watched as Neal climbed up onto the stage and shook hands with the MC. All around her, the crowd cheered for Neal. The women nearby had rosy cheeks, bright smiles, and tittered uncontrollably behind a hand as they stared at the handsome musician in excited awe.

  ‘He’s so gorgeous,’ and ‘My God, what an amazing man,’ filled Liv’s buzzing ears. She had to agree with the assessments going on around her, but at that moment she was still trying to regain her composure after having been made to suffer the equivalent of a punch in the gut.

  The audience quieted down so that the MC could ask Neal a lot of questions, and Liv forced herself to snap out of it so that she could listen.

  Directly in front of her was a massive television screen, and when she looked at it, she could see Neal seated on the bench directly in front of her. His smile registered before his voice did, and suddenly she felt light-headed. He was talking about his latest album, the Grammy he was awarded for a movie soundtrack, and the many rumors about Hollywood gossip regarding him and a lot of famous women.

  Appearing slightly annoyed yet bashful, Neal admitted to having been with very few women in his time. “I’m not seeing anyone famous,” he assured the relieved crowd. They reacted so favorably to the remark that he had to turn and wave in thanks. “Well, actually, there is someone,” he told the grinning MC, “she’s well-known, but not a celebrity.”

  Liv felt her brows rise, but remembering about the cameras forced her to bow her head and hide her expression. Neal’s remark made her wonder and worry. It couldn’t be her, so who was it then? Looking up, she stared at Neal’s attractive, smiling face on the screen. It was news to her that he possessed shyness and even more intriguing to her that he was about to drop a bomb on her without even realizing it. He couldn’t know she was in the audience the same way she couldn’t have known who the celebrity test-driver was going to be that day.

  Not wanting to know the answer anymore, Liv thought about leaving the hangar. A familiar ache inside her chest returned as well and she struggled to keep the tears at bay. The gentle moments they had shared in Hungary were all but forgotten now, and Liv started to wonder how big a fool she could actually turn out to be. Had Neal really just used her and now moved on? Had everything he ever said or done to make her believe in him been nothing but lies?

  The MC’s loud voice shook her from those sad thoughts, making her focus on him instead.

  “Are you James Peyton’s son?”

  Liv’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes grew big. Neal’s shy smile showed at the edge of her eye as she remained focused on the grinning MC who waited like the audience for Neal’s reply.

  It hurt to look at Neal, and on top of his having just admitted to being involved with a minor celebrity, he was about to admit to being the son of one of the most legendary rockers of all time. Her heart ached, not wanting to believe it was truly over between them even before anything had begun. Her mind started to remind her of how vehemently she had resisted his prodding efforts to get with him when she heard Neal laugh and looked up at the screen.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Liv jumped at the sound of the crowd that erupted all around her. It was loud enough to make her want to cover her ears, but she resisted, still aware of the cameras and people everywhere.

  A picture appeared on the screen that showed side-by-side and nearly identical images of Neal and his father at about the same age. The resemblance was uncanny, and while listening to the hushed comments going on all around her, Liv was forced to resist another urge: one that made her want to cry. If she thought he was out of her league before, it was most certainly the case now.

  A gentle brush against her side made her turn in that direction. The youngest MC had returned and smiled at her, wiggling his brows. She glanced at the cup of coffee in his hand before eyeing him. He seemed pleased.

  “What’d I tell you,” he said, gesturing to the stage. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

  Liv smiled, nodding in agreement before she turned aside and quickly dabbed the tears from her eyes. All she could think about now was the death knell still ringing in her head that signaled the end of whatever it was she once had with Neal. Why had she let herself cling to those emotions for so long? If she had only truly believed that it was never going to work out between them, it might not hurt as bad now to know there was no chance in hell of their ever being together.

  The crowd cheered again, anxious to watch Neal’s lap around the track. Liv tried to concentrate on the screen, but her depressing thoughts won out. There was definitely no going back; she knew that now. All the wasted time she had spent trying to push him away had managed to work against her. Perhaps he decided to take her advice and walk away before they both got hurt.

  It felt as if she were on a roller coaster ride that had stopped at the highest peak, leaving her there for a few weeks before finally making the terrifying descent into hell. Now, that ride was coming to a slow but sure stop. Back to the beginning of one of the most thrilling times of her whole life.

  She could see Neal entering the recording studio; feel the way his presence had affected her entire body, mind, and soul. She had to wonder if there was ever a time when she had taken a single moment to appreciate what she had then, or if she even deserved to feel so sad for having lost what really wasn’t hers to begin with. To her, it was like she was searching for a few key pieces to a complex puzzle.

  I
can’t hate him, she thought. Despite the cameras, she flashed the back of Neal’s head a nasty scowl. Anger suddenly replaced sadness, and she wanted to do more than simply hate him.

  It was all just an act, she reminded herself. He went to great lengths to get what he wanted, and I fell for it. That can’t be excusable even if it does make me look like a complete idiot. Maybe we were both wrong, but he’s more wrong than me.

  She heard the oldest MCs voice. “So, where do you think you’ve come on our board?”

  Looking up, Liv blushed as she frowned, upset that she had drifted off and missed Neal’s lap. Then she bowed her head when laughter bubbled to the surface. You’re insane. One minute you’re giddy to see him again, the next you’re maudlin with regret, then you want to kill him, and now you’re upset because you missed watching him drive that course.

  Sighing inwardly, Liv gazed at Neal on the big screen, wishing he wasn’t such a distracting man. Her watery eyes rested on his shy smile. A smile that made her want to smile. Looking at him caused her heart to flutter, bringing back a sense of regret and anger. Narrowing her eyes and curling her fingers tightly at her sides, she vowed not to let anyone, especially Neal Hendrix, ever fool her again.

  It was nice, she admitted inwardly, feeling blush heat her cheeks while her heart started to sink. It was . . . wonderful. I’ll never be able to forget it, and I’ll probably think about him until the day I die.

  The crowd erupted in loud cheers, shaking Liv from the maudlin aspect of her distracted mind. Looking up, she watched as the MC slapped a magnetic strip with Neal’s name on it in the second-place position on a filled up board of previous test drivers. While the crowd reacted with such raucous cheering, Neal rose from the bench and smiled as he waved. The unexpected move caused Liv to gasp and then hold her breath in a moment of terror.

  “He’s going to see me,” she whispered. Quickly, she turned away from the stage and dipped through the cheering crowd, anxious to get away. Outside the hangar, Liv closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer. She started toward the London bus parked at the end of the lot when someone latched onto her wrist, startling her.

  It wasn’t Neal’s touch she felt, and immediately her heart started to pound with fear. Just as she turned to see who it was, Liv heard an unfamiliar voice near her ear. A local man by his accent.

  “Such a pretty thing,” he said with laughter in his tone. “I’ve had my eye on you all afternoon. How fortune for me that you decided to leave early, when there’s no one around to catch me in the act. Oops, I mean distract us from our little tête-à-tête.”

  “Liv!”

  Gasping at the sound of Neal’s loud voice, Liv turned in his direction and saw him standing not too far away. He looked to be as angry as he sounded, but Liv was too terrified to think straight. Time slowed to a crawl after seeing the man behind her raise his left arm and point a gun at Neal.

  Her own howling scream filled her ears, and despite the slow-mo feel she was trapped in, Liv butted the back of her head as hard as she could against the man’s mouth. The gun exploded near her ear as she pushed his arm upward, and then she turned, poking his eyes with two fingers.

  The man cried out in pain and set both hands against his eyes, stumbling backwards. Liv growled as she leapt into the air and swung her right leg, smacking her foot against the side of his head and knocking him to the ground.

  She could hear distant shouts and saw the bus drivers leaving their rigs to run toward them. Liv’s only thought was Neal and his safety. Another scream left her to see him lying on the ground and time sped up as she ran toward him in tears.

  Chapter 24

  Neal awakened to find himself on a strange, almost terrifying battlefield. Hundreds of giant, half-naked soldiers holding massive shields and primitive weapons did battle against human and robotic enemies on all sides. The impressive bodies and dark features of the loincloth-wearing warriors reminded Neal of Xalan, and at once he groaned.

  “Not again.”

  One of those shields blocked his view and the light, forcing Neal to look up into the angry, glowing gaze of Xalan. Something hit the shield with enough force to make it wobble in Xalan's mighty grip.

  “What the hell?” Xalan and Neal asked simultaneously, and then Xalan turned to drive an ax through a robot that tromped up behind him, making enough noise to alert both men well in advance. Xalan faced Neal again, and Neal was distracted by his own body in a loincloth. He looked up at Xalan.

  “Where is my weaponry, then?”

  Xalan managed a sneer before lunging beyond Neal’s shoulder to defeat an enemy warrior of the flesh and blood variety.

  “You couldn’t fight your way out of a wet –.” Xalan paused his cliché remark to zap another enemy using a laser attached to his left wrist. He found time to continue glaring down at Neal, though. “Follow me,” he ordered. While shielding Neal from the enemy, Xalan led him to a nearby tree with a sturdy trunk wide and thick enough to block anything aimed at it for destruction. “Move one inch and it’s your own, stupid ass. Got it?”

  Neal nodded without thinking and watched as the giant warrior marched back into battle, swinging an ax and using the laser with accurate precision, downing anyone who attempted to take him out. It was a loud and vicious battle Neal couldn’t quite tear away his curious gaze from, and yet there were far more interesting things to look at.

  The sky, for example, even in strange daylight, held a myriad of large and small planets that appeared as faint to the eye as the earth’s moon sometimes did on a clear day. That sky was an interesting mix of blue, purple, pink, and orange, the way earth’s horizon sometimes looked just before sunset – only this planet’s entire sky held the pastel hues along the entire half-circle above.

  Then there were the trees, shrubs, and flowers dotting the landscape. While the ground beneath his feet appeared to be green with brown dirt underneath it, there were chartreuse leaves on red bark trees, white vines growing up from black stems, and purple leaves attached to glowing, neon colored blooms. What interested Neal most however, were the large, colorful fireflies that hovered near the edge of a thick forest not far from the battlefield. When they moved, colorful sparkling dust trailed behind them.

  A body landed at Neal’s feet, giving him pause. Seconds later, a robot crashed against the side of the tree Xalan had asked Neal to hide behind. A loud clank followed by clinking metal filled Neal’s ears before the return of battle cries, clanking metal, and the zing of laser against metal. Grunts, groans, and unfamiliar curse words rose up above that noise, making Neal smile against his will.

  There could be no way the giants would lose a single man in any battle, Neal mused, giving him an out in the guilt department at finding anything amusing about a war.

  The air felt normal to him, but with a strange yet pleasing scent that had him taking enough deep breaths to make him dizzy. An indescribable scent that helped to remind him of Liv and her unique, spicy sweet aroma. She had told him often enough that she wasn’t into perfumes or make-up. Still, Neal had taken the time to sniff the shampoo bottle inside her shower. In fact, he had sniffed every bottle he had found atop her mirror dresser on the hunt for that interesting and intoxicating fragrance.

  Another body came sailing toward Neal, forcing him to step aside in order to avoid being crushed. When his feet touched the ground, Neal frowned at them, and then he glanced at the big body lying in front of the tree. A good five feet stood between them, and yet Neal had only taken a single step.

  As curious as he had been to stand on air in the sky, Neal started to jump in place. Once he realized how high and with such ease he was able to move, Neal ended up bounding around the tree and smiling like a child of five. With the big difference in gravity, Neal had more buoyancy, the way it would be to float in space.

  “Sweet,” he whispered and then looked up at the nearest branch hanging above him. Spitting into a palm and rubbing them together, Neal reached up before jumping. Latching onto the branch, h
e let out a loud whoop and hung by a hand, slowly turning as he gazed about him in complete awe.

  A green laser shot past his hip and Neal let go of the branch, crying out in pain before landing unceremoniously on the ground. The bottoms of his bare feet stung, his ankles and knees ached, and he looked to be in pain as he rubbed his burning right thigh. “Damn, that hurts.”

  “I told you not to move!”

  Cussing, Neal grunted as he rose to his feet and turned to offer Xalan an affronted glance. “I’m not a child to be ordered about, either.”

  “Really?” Xalan stood with his hands on his hips and sporting a look that made Neal blush. The shield rose up to deflect a beam, and while still glaring at Neal, Xalan shoved a spear into the gut of an enemy warrior that ran up behind him.

  “How the hell did you know any of that was going to happen?” Neal asked, not wanting to laugh and yet the whole situation proved a bit too incredible for him. “I want to hate you too, and yet you continue to amaze me. It isn’t fair.”

  “Loser.”

  “I’m not a loser!” Neal glared at Xalan and caught the sword tossed to him. It hit the ground hard, and Neal stared at Xalan in wide-eyed shock to have felt how heavy the thing turned out to be. Yet Xalan held his with two fingers and a thumb, like it was a butter knife. Upset, Neal grabbed the hilt with both hands, and resembling young Arthur, he tugged at it until the tip left the ground. The point slowly and wobbly rose up above Neal’s head. He gritted his teeth with exertion in order to keep it there.

  A blue beam struck it, knocking the weapon from his hands. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud while Neal winced in pain and shook his burning hands.

  “Damn it,” he hissed, unable to look Xalan in the eye. It definitely wasn’t fair to be compared with giants who were born and bred for such things. Rubbing his palms against his sweating thighs, Neal stepped up to the sword and attempted to lift it a second time.