Creative Writing Prompt #4

6/12/12

Two people wake up in Vegas hungover

in bed together. They look at their hands and

notice rings on their fingers. Apparently, the

night before, they got married. One

wants to make the relationship work while

the other wants an annulment…

Lucas remembered the memory like it had happened yesterday. Illuvy–his crush–approached him to teach her how to slow dance. He was honored that she felt he was special enough. They were freshmen in college: she went to her prom solo.

Lucas would do anything for his “ex.” He never could distinguish who had instigated the inside joke among the floor, but it was a fun experience. Too much into her studies, Illuvy wasn’t interested in dating, yet she had an exotic beauty that drew guys in. Naturally, they flirted with her non-stop; she had asked Lucas–her friend–to pretend to be her star crossed ex lover.

How could he resist?

College was the good ole days. Ten years later, Lucas was extremely lonely. His ex-fiance left him to pursue her dreams of acting in Hollywood. No see ya later; no I’ll miss ya; no would you like to join me. Just gone.

It was one thing to experience a broken heart, and it was another to have the world involved too. You see, Lucas was in the public eye, being the lead singer for The Summit (he had created the name to give a shout-out to his dorm from New York University). The break-up happened two weeks ago, however, it was still newsworthy for magazines and blogs.

Allegedly, Lucas was distraught to the point he was banging any female fan who approached his door while on tour.  Yeah right. Try his manwhore bandmates.

Lucas slouched down in his seat, wanting to be invisible. He was at a popular club in the VIP section. The waitresses and burlesque dancers in tight clothing flirted with him, but he wasn’t interested in a hook-up.

He wanted something real. He wanted women to approach him like he was a normal guy.

Lucas sighed. He was obligated to promote the club–a paid gig. He was tempted to play hookey or pay the fee back to leave.

Since he couldn’t do any option, he drowned his sorrows in Vodka.

“Stop sulking, dude. She’s not worth the hassle.” Thomas, The Summit guitarist, patted him on the back. “We’re in Vegas. Take advantage of it. How does the saying go? What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” He grinned.

Before Lucas could respond, he heard a familiar laugh that launched him out of his plushy, cozy seat. He sprinted to the top railing, peering down at the crowd.

It couldn’t be.

“Oh my damn, he’s gonna jump. Lucas, no!” Thomas rushed to stand beside him. He looked worried like he regretted taking “babysitting” duty while the other bandmates went to find willing girls.

Lucas ignored him, scanning the room. He smiled. Illuvy was dancing in a circle surrounded by women dressed to impress. Her dress hugged her curves perfectly; she still looked effortless.

He proceeded to walk away, but Thomas grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

“I found someone.”

His friend grabbed Lucas’s face with both hands, grinning from ear to ear. “Hallelujah!”

#

Ring. Ring.

Illuvy slowly opened her eyes, grabbing her head like it would magically take her pain away or at least make the room stop spinning. Groggily, she rose and tried to locate the cell phone.

She searched under a pile of clothes scattered over a modern black chair. That wasn’t her outfit from last night. Illuvy’s heart skipped a beat.

What did she do?

She had attended a bachelorette party at the hottest club; her friends had joked that since Illuvy was the only single one there, she should hook up with the male stripper. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas–unless a pregnancy, STD, or HIV.

Illuvy slapped her forehead. How could she be so stupid? She tugged at her sleeve–a comfort mechanism. She smiled in relief. If she wore pajamas, then maybe she didn’t have sex with the stripper after all.

She tip-toed towards the bed, leaning in for a closer look. Hopefully, he wasn’t a butterface; Illuvy couldn’t remember who she met last night well into the wee hours of the morning.

Unfortunately, the spiky, dark brown haired guy lay on his side, facing the other way. She gently lifted the covers up; he wore white boxers.

Damn. Now she was confused again. After sex, she always hopped out of bed to put on clothes, claiming to be cold. How could she forget?

Never mind that question. Who kept calling? Have they heard of beauty rest?

Illuvy tapped her foot impatiently. “Hey you, get up and answer your phone!”

The mystery guy (hook-up?) grunted but didn’t wake up. She shook him from behind.

He shot up quickly, wide-eyed. “What’s wrong, Illuvy?”

Illuvy shared the same facial expression. She was taken aback. She never thought she’d get the pleasure of seeing her “ex” again. “Your phone,” she said sheepishly.

Biting her lip, she sat on the bed to watch him retrieve the phone off the floor; he had a nice butt. Instead of answering it, he turned the ringer off. Lucas smiled when he caught her glance. “I see you’re still bossy.”

In college, he never made Illuvy feel nervous even though she had a crush on  him. Lucas had made her feel comfortable in her own skin; he brightened her day; insert any corny description here, she laughed to herself. Being with Lucas had created an instant bond and connection.

Now, she felt embarrassed. He was a mega-superstar. What if he only thought of her as a conquest? As a tally to add on the wall of his tour bus, keeping score of the women The Summit has slept with?

There was only one way to find out; Illuvy was never a fan of beating around the bush. She lowered her eyes to the floor and whispered, “Did we…?”

Lucas grinned. “You don’t remember?”

Illuvy shook her head, admiring his physique. He wasn’t built like a meathead, but he definitely had abs, muscles. He was built like Adam Levine if you will.

“I told you about Melanie leaving me, about the tabloids eating me up alive about it.” He walked over and sat beside her. Lucas touched her knee, sending energy throughout her body. “You said we should make her jealous.”

“So we did hook-up?” Illuvy was content with that. She had wanted that special moment with her friend during college. Never say never. Too bad she couldn’t remember it though.

Lucas smirked. “No, you fell asleep.”

Illuvy closed her eyes and slapped her forehead. He grabbed her free hand, sending butterflies throughout her stomach. “It’s okay. We have all the time in the world to make love.”

She gave him a questioned look.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you?” He frowned.

“I’m sorry; I don’t.” She didn’t want Lucas thinking she hooked up with random guys on a regular basis. “All I know is that I came here with my friends for Clara’s bachelorette party–“

“Later, you met me at the club. You came up with the idea that we should get married.”

Illuvy laughed, then rubbed her forehead. She had a headache. “Oh I see. Have a fake marriage to get Melanie jealous. Now you can be my ex-husband,” she teased.

She had too much time on her hands to come up with these silly plans. At least no one ever got bored with her. At least this plan was with an old friend. “Well, I’m sure the press got wind, so we can get the annulment now.”

“Annulment?”

“Uh, yeah,” she expressed as if talking to a child. “Get dressed, and we’ll go now.” She looked down at her finger, a pink bubblegum, plastic ring was on display.

Really? Illuvy used to wear one every day in school, stating she wanted to remain a Toys R Us kid forever. How sweet that Lucas never forgot.

She smiled and stood up. “Let’s go.” He stayed put. “What? You don’t like my bossiness now?”

Lucas fidgeted with his blue bubblegum, plastic ring. “We can make this work.” He met her gaze. “Give me a chance.”

Illuvy scanned the room for hidden cameras. Was Ashton Kutcher hiding in the closet? Was she being punk’d even though she wasn’t a celebrity? Maybe it was the normal citizen who knew someone famous edition?

Speechless, she leaned into the nightstand. Lucas was being crazy right now. They couldn’t get away with this. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas–unless you bring home a husband.

“You were down for this last night.”

“Doesn’t count; I don’t even remember last night,” she counter-argued. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’ll be a funny story to tell our grandchildren,” Lucas teased, grinning.

Oh no, he was trying to win her over with his award-winning charm. “I need some fresh air.” She walked towards the door.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Illuvy opened it. Paparazzi and fans bombarded the hallway. Flashing lights momentarily blinded her. She slammed the door in their faces.

“I told you,” Lucas teased.

“How did you…?”

“Know? Thomas texted me. Oh how cute, we’re finishing each other’s sentences.”

Illuvy slid down the wall, landing on her butt. The five star carpet felt as comfortable as a couch. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Crazy in love, Illuvy.”

“I don’t want to be the rebound.”

Lucas crossed the room to sit beside her. He caressed her hand. “I had feelings for you back in college. When I saw you last night, those feelings came rushing back. This isn’t a joke for me; you’re not a rebound.”

Her heart fluttered. He had felt the same way in college? Why hadn’t he said anything? She got lost in his dark blue eyes.

Oh, Lucas was good.

It would be romantic for Illuvy to tell the truth about her feelings so he wasn’t left in the dark, but she had to think with her head not her heart. No one married someone they used to know without reconnecting first. If she showed her vulnerability, it’d open a floodgate that she wasn’t prepared to handle.

How could she convince Lucas to get an annulment?

The End

—-

If anyone wants to try their hand in this writing prompt, email me at Author.Yawatta.Hosby@aol.com

Keep smiling,

Yawatta Hosby

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