Reality Bites

By: Sammie

If you looked at me from a distance, You'd see a blond haired, hazel eyed man nursing a drink at the bar. Your quickly note my fine taste in clothing and by my sitting posture you'd assume I was some cocky rich boy at another one of these boring high society events. You'd watch as my eyes casually roamed the room and you'd assume I was hoping to drink the night away.

If you got a little closer you'd see me send a charming smile that didn't quite reach my eyes across the room. Your eyes would then subsequently follow my eyes to a flirtatious looking woman who would then be swooned by my smile and giggle amoung her friends. You'd then assume that I was a charming playboy at heart.

If you sat down next to me and ordered a drink, you'd see me open my wallet to pay for my drink. At this time you'd not only see the amount of cash in my wallet but also the name on my drivers license.

There's more cash than you have ever seen in your life, and my name is Logan Huntzberger.

From now on you would no longer have to assume. By seeing the cash and the last name you'd immediately know exactly who I am. You know that I am the heir to the billion in the Huntzberger Media Fortune. In a few seconds you'd recall that Peoples article you read and remember that I was New York's most eligible bachelor. You'd either be impressed by this and attempt to engulf me in a conversation or quickly back away in fear, remembering that in the article it mentioned that this specific Huntzberger was cockier and slightly more ruder than the rest.

But I am not what you think I am. I am not the man the media makes me out to be, or even what my parents and friends make me out to be. I admit, I am cocky. I do take advantage of the family money and I do talk to most people like they are bellow me. If you turned on the Channel 6 News, you'd see that tomorrow, Logan Elias Huntzberger will be turning 30 and be completely taking over the Huntzberger Media Corporation. Then you'd probably get a clip from a past interview I've done and see a smiling me saying 'it's a great opportunity and that I promise to lead the company to a new and better era'.

Bull.

That's right, you heard it here first, I don't want the family business. I never wanted to become a journalist. I wanted to become a lawyer. I wanted to attend Harvard and I wanted to fall in love with someone special, a girl who thought more about the world and her life than if she should dye her hair or not.

But that's not what I got. My dad robbed me off all three. Not that he knows about it though. My dad's not the type of father that you sit down with a share your goals, you just share the goals my father wants to hear. So if you ask my father he'd tell you that I've wanted to be a journalist since I was a child and that I wanted to attend Yale since I could crawl. He'd then tell you that I've always planned to get married to a suitable trophy wife of his choice; a woman that could run my social calendar since I was going to be so busy with the business and all.

More Bull.

That was my fathers' dream not mine. Now I don't despise journalism or Yale. I could do them both and be content, not thrilled, but content. But the only real regret I have about my fathers dream is that I never got to fall in love nor will I ever get a chance. I've known, since my childhood, that my wife would be chosen by my parents. So any thoughts of falling in love and finding a girlfriend dissolved at an early age. I began taking on the roll of a playboy, with a different girl every night. I began to shut my heart off and never even considered turning it back on.

Till this morning, that is. I woke up this morning, on the eve of my 30th birthday realizing for the first time ever that I had allowed my father to take the chance to love from me. I could have dated someone, it was never exactly specified that I couldn't have a girlfriend. I just didn't want to commit to something else when I had already committed my future away.

So Congratulations, you did pretty well in the assuming department…for a first timer that is.

I looked around the ballroom in boredom. In normal circumstances me and the other 'kids of the rich' would form a sub party in a pool house or abandoned wing of the house. But today was different, today I was depressed and moody and my friends knew it. Truth is, we all hate these parties. They're all the same. It's the same rich people in a different location.

The ballroom was nice. I think I was called Il Santuario. That's Italian for The Sanctuary. The room was bright. The Windows were from the floor to the very high ceiling, decorated in beautiful and expensive drapery. There were several authentic crystal chandeliers that gave the room a sense of elegance. The tables were decorated with the finest china and most expensive flowers. There wasn't a thing in the room that didn't scream luxurious and expensive.

I began to take in the people in the room. We were all dressed in the best cloths. The wives stood in bunches, cocktails in hands, as they titled their heads backs in polite laughter. The men sat with cigars around tables, discussing business and stocks. Then there were the people my age. I looked carefully at them. They were all rich, beautiful and totally lifeless. They didn't have goals, you could tell by the way they acted. It gave me a guilty pleasure to know that I wasn't completely like that. I actually had dreams and plans. Granted, I was never going to get those dreams and pleasures but I still had them.

Suddenly something caught my eyes, or rather, someone. I took a quick intake of air as my eyes took her in. She was beautiful. Shorter than my own height, with brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Her dress was a elegant blue gown that bought out the sparkle in her eyes. I think that's what I was most attracted to. Her eyes. They had life, they had hope, something the rest of our eyes didn't have. She even walked like a angel. Maybe it was the drink fact that this was my 4th drink, maybe it was her eyes or maybe it really was love at first site, but one thing I knew for sure was that girl was going to be my wife.

I could actually see myself now. Walking up to that brown-haired goddess grabbing two champagne flutes on the way. I'd walk up behind her and show her the drink I got her. Her blue eyes would widen in surprise and then she'd turn around while accepting the drink. A smile would form on her face as our eyes connected.

I'd then flash her my trademark smirk as I'd say, "Logan Huntzberger"

"Rory Hayden" She'd say before we tipped our glasses together in a toast and then sip at our drinks, our eyes never leaving the others.

I could imagine spending the rest of the night with her. My once gloomy mood now happy and excited. After we finished our champagne, we'd begin to dance, our bodies in close proximity to each other and I'd whisper things in her ear that showed my playboy colors. But at the same time I'd impress her with thoughts and feelings that she probably didn't think us rich guys had. I wanted to make sure she knew I was worth her time. During our dinner we'd sit next to each other, despite prior arrangement, and only speak to each other all night. When it was time to leave I'd kiss her cheek before closing the limo door and watching her drive away into the night.

I sipped at my drink again as my imagination went further. I began to picture the restaurant I'd take her too. It would have to be elegant, sophisticated and private. Although I'd want to pick her up, she'd insist on meeting me there, promising to be early. Of course she would be late, but she'd look awesome so I'd know it was worth the wait. When we're seated in the brown and red themed restaurant I'd ask her to tell me about herself and she'd say how she's always dreamed about being a journalist and is getting a degree at Harvard.

She'd then ask me about myself and for some reason I'd spill my entire life story on her. By the end her hand would be placed over mine as she looked at me with keen interest. I'd chuckle nervously feeling stupid for opening up to her so soon and I'd tell her that. She'd then look at me, her blue eyes glossy and earnest as she says,

" Logan, I may be rich like the rest of the girls you know but I'm defiantly not self conceited like them. I want to hear about you too okay?"

My exterior response would be with an appropriate smile and thanks, but my inside my heart would be pounding at how sincere she was. The rest of the evening would be romantic and intimate as we'd finish off our dessert and I'd walk her to her car.

After that Rory and I would date almost every other day. She was everything I could ever dream off. Not only did she have a mind of her own, she was beautiful, cultured, intelligent, witty and independent. She was the ying to my yang and I was completely and utterly in love with her.

In about seven months I would take Rory to Il Santuario, the ballroom we met in. The room would be completely dark except for the centre of the room. The center would have hundreds of white candles surrounding a elegantly set table. Pink Rose petals would be dispersed within the circle and there would be a narrow path set our by candles that would lead us to our table. I would bring Rory to the front of the path blindfolded and when I slowly took the silk blindfold out her eyes would widen and her hands would cover her mouth. Tears would begin to well up in her eyes and without even looking at the table I would be able to see the candles through her eyes.

" Logan" She'd whisper, her voice thick with emotion.

I would just smile at her and take her hand, leading her up the path to the table. Our dinner would already be served and our dessert on the elegant trolley next to us. I'd pull out her chair for her and she'd sit her eyes darting around the room taking it all in. I'd smile and wait for her to finish. After a few seconds her eyes would dart to mine.

"What's all this?" She'd ask her hands gesturing to the room.

"This is dinner with my girlfriend" I'd say smiling. I was planning on getting through dinner before my proposal.

" Logan…" She'd say looking up at me expectantly.

I'd smile at his and think Ah what the hell. And walk around the table. I'd kneel down in front of her. Her eyes widen more than I ever thought possible her tears began to spill.

"Rory Hayden, I've told you, how I've never had a girlfriend before and I've told you how I've never loved before. But I found both of those with you Rory and that's all I need. I don't think I could live life if it wasn't for you…Would you please do me the honor of becoming my wife and spending the rest of our lives together?" I pulled out the stunning diamond engagement ring I had got her and looked up at her again.

"Oh-my-god-Logan-Yes" She'd say in one breath before kneeling down with me to kiss me.

I'd grin happily and slip the ring onto her finger.

"It's Beautiful, I love you" She whispered looking at me.

"I love you too."

Life after that would be one huge but beautiful whirlwind. Rory and I would get married in two months to avoid having our parents throw us a wedding where we wouldn't know half the guests. During the reception Rory and I would site next to each other on a plat formed stage as my best man read his speech. I would place my hand on her knee and we would both turn to look at each other. She looked stunning, dressed in a elegant spaghetti strapped white gown that spread out in a bell shape from her waist and below. Her hair was done up with a few curled strands around her face and her make up was perfect. Her jewellery was kept simple so that our wedding rings would be the most beautiful piece of jewellery on her. I had zoned out of my best man's speech, too captivated by her beauty. In a sudden burst of a spontaneous feeling I decided I need to tell her. I leaned in and whispered,

"At the risk of sounding corny, I need to tell you something Ror,"

She'd smile and say, "It's our wedding, you're allowed to sound corny"

I'd smile at her and take her hands in mine, "I swear this isn't a lie"

Her face would show slight confusion and she'd nod for me to continue.

"Rory from the moment I saw you at Il Santuario I knew you were the woman I was going to marry" I'd say genuinely.

Rory would blush and lean over to kiss me, "I love you"

"I love you too" I'd say smiling.

Life was perfect.

My eyes snapped out of my daydream and I shook my head smirking. I remember my sister saying something about how you could always imagine your entire life with the person you are suppose to be with.

The girl I had dubbed Rory Hayden began to walk towards the bar. My eyes widen in surprise. I turned as casually as I could back so I was facing the bartender and drank my entire drink I a gulp before ordering another. By this time Rory Hayden had taken the seat to my right and was ordering a Shirley Temple. I snuck a peek at her and took a sharp intake of breath at her beauty. She was even more beautiful from up close. I began to run opening lines through my head as I was trying to figure out how to introduce myself. She pulled out her purse to pay for her drink and I did the quickest thing I could do. I pulled out my wallet and paid for both mine and hers.

"Thanks" She said smiling, our eyes finally making contact.

"No Problem" I said with butterflies swarming in my stomach.

I began to criticize myself in my mind. This wasn't how we were suppose to talk for the first time. It had to be perfect! We were going to get married on day, and it would be nice to have a story like me charming her with champagne and my smirk rather than my money and sweaty palms. I was about to force myself to turn and say something charming to her when she picked up her drink with her left hand and a gleam of silver caught my eye. I turned fully now, not bothering with being discrete. My mouth dropped open in surprise. This wasn't how it was suppose to be. I couldn't loose this too. She couldn't, in any circumstances, be married.

I began walking backwards, and Rory, or whoever the hell she was, stood up.

"Hey are you okay?" She asked, genuine concern dripping from her voice, "I'm a doctor…how many drinks have you had sir?"

I was to stunned to reply. She was a doctor? Probably out of Princeton. What about being a journalist? What about going to Harvard? I began walking backwards before I turned on my heel and all but ran out of the room.

"Hey! Mister! Wait!" She shouted after me.

I felt hot tears begin to slip down my face onto my shirt, as if to soothe my breaking heart. I turned when I came to the front door. I had to look back one last time. My eyes found her beautiful concern struck face still at the bar looking around for me. Suddenly a man slipped up behind her with two champagne flute, smiling like a man in love. She turned to him, accepting the flute and a kiss from him. She then pointed in the general direction I left in and spoke quickly to him. The man frowned and said something to her that made her visibly relax before the two kissed once more and then sat down at the bar.

I looked down at my shoes before inhaling and exhaling a couple times. I had been so wrong.I opened the door and shut it behind me, running quickly to my car so I could get away from Il Santuario as fast as I could.

If you had watched me from a distance, you would assume I had remember an important errand and had to leave immediately.

And this time, you'd be completely wrong.


I know...a little sad...but gaaa i felt like it so kiss my bum...you all know i'm a Rogan Lover...but i felt like a bit of Angst...lol... )

Oh stop whinning u noe u luv me P

XoX

Sammie

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