Ying Yang

The trouble with love

Take it all in
This is where we begin
Sitting here outside tonight
Watching the moon, it just feels right
I'll take your hand in mine
This is where I cross the line
Between what was expected of me
And what was never meant to be

Take it all in
this is where we sink in
sitting here before dark
Waiting for sunset (5, 4, 3, 2...)
I speak into your lips
Longing for your sweet kiss
I feel your body shake
and, oh, this heart aches
...For a reason

A part of me feels that I need you
But I'm satisfied with where I am
And nothing can go wrong
Then tell me why do I cry these tears at night?

Was it a dream?
Was it for real?
Tell me the truth
Is this how I feel?
Take it all in
Just let it all go
It's only a dream
I will never know

Michael Preface

(Kristen POV)

It was amazing to actually have been able to get into a club. I was only sixteen, and five years younger than the legal, over twenty-one age of American laws. But I did look grown up. I had come with Tasha, Rachael, Kirsty, and Lauren. Rachael was nineteen, Tasha was nearly eighteen, Kirsty was also almost eighteen, and Lauren was my seventeen.

So we were all underage, but all pretty dressed up…or should I say dressed down, as most of us hardly had that much on. I had on an all-in-one, black top and shorts and although it showed just enough flesh, it made me look a lot older than what I was.

Especially with a flash, brand new high heels, and heavily made-up eyes. Rachael had gotten the whole 'smoldering, grey eye-shadow' look perfectly. And as I entered the club, in the middle of them; I successfully got away with it. Result!

That's when I saw him. He was sat at his own table, on his own, and as soon as I caught my eye, he didn't look away. Instead, he smiled. I instantly blushed, and turned to look away. Despite being cute, I wasn't interested. I'd only had one Boyfriend before, but he had been a complete loser.

He had slept with my best friend, Lauren, after getting her so drunk, and jumped on her. That was what Lauren had told me, and that's what I believed. She wasn't the sort of Girl to lay it around for other people's Boyfriends; especially not her friends Boyfriends.

And friends were for life. She was my best friend, and I truly believed her judgment that he wasn't right for me. After all, Lauren and I had been best friends since I was like ten, and I knew that she wouldn't do that to me on purpose.

''That cute Boy's looking over at you…the one that you were looking at.'' Lauren giggled at my ear. I sighed heavily, because I hadn't exactly wanted them to notice…too late.

''He looks about twenty.'' I commented in warning due to the fact that I was only sixteen. Lauren snickered, and shrugged in response.

''And so what if he is?'' She asked me, without a care. ''He's fit!'' She added; giggling again. I lost my patience then, simply because I hated it when she was like this.

''You go and see him then!'' I shouted at her above the loud music. But I wasn't really shouting, because of the loud music.

She giggled back in response. ''He's checking you out…proper bad.'' She added, with a small giggle. I looked up to Lauren and glared at her. She was so pretty; blonde and just the right figure. Why couldn't guys check her out?

I wasn't used to the fucking attention. I never used to get any of my old schools, so I didn't see why I should now.

''Actually Kristen, he really is.'' Tasha agreed, which was unusual for her, as she disliked Lauren so much. ''He keeps turning around and laughing with his friends, and then looking back over again,'' She added.

''And…fuck, he's coming over here!'' Rachael hissed. ''We'll just leave you to it.'' She added; grabbing their drinks, and sliding across the bar.

''Get back here!'' I hissed at her quietly; attempting to pull her back, but she smacked my hand away, as she followed the rest.

''Ow,'' I hissed under my breath. She truly had a bad slap on her, that girl. I rubbed my hand gently, preparing myself to tell this Guy any excuse I had. I had a Boyfriend, married even…anything!

''So,'' A smooth, New York accent came from behind me. Shit, not only did he look cute…he had the best accent too! ''What does it feel like to be the most beautiful Girl in the room?''

Oh my god; ha! He was actually flirting with me. And for once, it wasn't using one of those stupid, corny lines, that I'd heard Guys in movies use. It was actually quite a sweet line-untrue, but sweet-, and with his accent, it made it sound even cuter.

I turned around slowly, and was met with mesmerizing, brown eyes. His brown hair was swept back, but was also spiked up a little bit at the top, making him look even cuter. His eyes had a strange, warm fixation about them, and I kind-of just got pulled into them, as creepy, and corny as that might sound, it was true.

There was a strand of hair at the side that needed brushing back, and I wanted to reach over and pull it back, so it felt into place. Gosh, this was so embarrassing! I never had this reaction towards Boys. No, that was the wrong word.

In his nice, flashy, black suit, and trousers to match; he certainly wasn't a Boy by any standards. He was a Man. And quite a hot Man, I could freely admit. I recognized his face from somewhere, but I couldn't quite remember where.

I decided to live a little, and flirt back. After all, it wasn't often that I was being flirted with; believe me.

''How does it feel to be the most beautiful Guy in the room?'' I didn't know that as a fact. Truth was; I hadn't actually bothered to look around the room, because as soon as my eyes had met his; I couldn't seem to look away.

''I asked you first.''

''And I asked you second.'' Gosh, that was so not like me. Usually I would have stuttered back, with something along the lines of; 'Ur…well…I…Urm…' Yeah, you get the point. But I felt my confidence hit an unusual high with this Guy.

He raised one of those cute eyebrows in response. ''Fair enough,'' he shrugged. He flashed a delighted smile. ''How about I buy you a drink, beautiful Girl,'' he asked me eagerly, as he sat down at the bar stool next to me, and spun around to face the bar.

I tried so hard not to notice how his leg had brushed mine, on his way round to the chair, but it was hard. ''I don't think that's a great idea.'' I sighed. It was time for the truth. If he was like nineteen, or whatever, then he was three years older than me. And I was underage, and I wasn't a fucking, honey trap.

''And why is that?'' he asked me playfully, as he patted the seat next to him, for me to sit. I smiled, and took the seat gingerly; not wanting to touch him at all, as I confessed my age.

''Well, if you must know…I'm only…sixteen.'' I barely muttered back my age, but as he nodded his head in recognition-shock entering his features-I knew that he had heard me.

''Oh,'' was all he replied, sounding in shock still.

''I only came here with my friends, and I didn't really think that I would get in.'' I explained quickly, because I didn't want him to think that I had come here to lead anyone on or anything. I had come here for a good time, and that was all.

''Well I'm eighteen.'' He confessed; going back to watching me again with those dangerous, brown eyes of his, instead of the bar.

''Oh,'' now it was my turn to be shocked.

''You sound surprised?'' He noted; sounding more confused than making it a statement. I nodded my reply.

''I thought that you looked older.'' I confessed, feeling a little silly now, as I admitted this. He smiled in response, and it was impossible not to smile back.

''It's one of the advantages for getting into a club.'' He winked at me playfully, and I felt my cheeks redden in response.

''You're blushing.'' This was more like a statement, rather than a question. Before I could speak though; his right hand reached out, before I could stop him, and gently brushed my right cheek, making it turn even hotter. I attempted to not look into them damn eyes of his, but my eyes failed me, and kept glancing at him.

He smiled, before he gingerly removed his hand away, and carried on watching me closely. I took a few steady breaths, as I cooled down, whilst he ordered us both vodka shots, and attempted to be flirty again, thinking that I would fail miserably.

''I know another pick-up line.'' I confessed. He turned back to me, and smiled.

''Oh yeah?'' He asked me, intrigued. I nodded. ''I'd like to hear it.'' He admitted, sitting up properly, which made us uncomfortably closer.

I cleared my throat, and pretended not to see the closeness. ''It's really corny.'' I admitted; feeling so embarrassed now. I knew that I shouldn't have tried to make poxy conversation.

''I'll be the judge of that.''

I sighed, giving up, and just came out with it; refusing to meet them eyes. My pick-up line was about them nice eyes.

''Do you have a map…because I keep getting lost in your eyes.'' I ducked my head down, and welcomed my awaiting blush.

However, one of his fingers reached for my chin, and pressed it up-right, so that we could both see each other's reaction. And neither of us was laughing. His seriousness reflected my own; but that was only because I was panicking as I awaited a reply from him.

''That was cute,'' he confessed, flashing another, charming smile. His gleaming, white teeth flashed this time. ''Usually, that would be a corny pick-up line, but somehow…this beautiful lady manages to make everything sound…cool.'' My cheeks warmed again, and he raised his thumb and finger to brush away my embarrassment.

He smiled a small smile, once more, before his hand dropped to collect our drinks that were now sat on the bar.

''Why is your face familiar?'' I asked him curiously once I had cooled down again. I couldn't understand why he seemed so familiar to me, when I didn't know him.

''Why is your face familiar?'' He asked me back.

I rolled my eyes as his face was turned away from me. ''I asked first.'' I reminded him sourly. He grinned cheekily at me, before making his reply to that.

He sat round, and watched me, with his vodka shot in hand. ''I asked second.'' He commented smugly, making me roll my eyes again. With that, he threw his vodka shot back, and put the empty shot glass back onto the bar.

''Fine, well to answer your question; I've been in stuff before, if it's because of that. I've been in little acting jobs and stuff, though I'm not sure if it's to do with that.'' I admitted, as I looked down to my nails.

''I think it is…what stuff have you been in?'' He asked me cheekily, as he used my phrase of what I've done before.

''Wild at heart,''

''I've seen that before…you're the Daughter? You're a good actress.'' He asked me, guessing the answer correctly as he complimented my work. I nodded, thanked him for the compliment, and watched as his eyes followed to my full shot. ''How about…you drink your shot, and I ask more questions?'' He was sat back up, properly again now, as he leaned over to the bar, and moved the shot closer to me.

I nodded, drinking it back, and winching for a moment, as I put it back onto the bar. ''How about you tell me why I recognize you?'' I suggested. I didn't like talking about myself. I found it a little boring, actually.

''Fair enough,'' he commented; flashing another grin at me. ''I'm an actor, also.'' He confessed, leaving it simply as that.

''Okay, and am I supposed to guess you are, with just that information?'' I asked him, still as confused as about whom he actually was.

He smiled in response, and outstretched his hand to the middle of us. ''I'm Michael Angarano. It's nice to meet you…'' He trailed off, suggestively asking for my name. I knew who he was. I'd heard of him before, seen a few pictures of him on papers on the tube, that sort of thing.

I took his hand in mine, and shook it gently. I couldn't help but notice how soft, yet firm his hand was. It was quite adorable. ''Kristen,'' I replied. ''Kristen Rigby,'' I added as he smiled. His thumb gingerly rubbed the back of my hand.

''It's been a pleasure,'' he mumbled in probably the sexiest voice that I'll ever get to hear. And my heart instantly accelerated a little, in response.

''I say,'' I agreed, and he winked at me again, in response.

Michael stayed with us that night, and he when he asked me to dance, and I admitted that I really didn't want to, he stopped asking. And instead, he was quite happy to stay there with me, whilst everyone else danced, and we got talking again.

However, as he attempted to talk to me about anything and everything, I wasn't that easy. I got him to talk more about him, luckily. He was much more exciting.

His full name was Michael-Anthony-Angarano, and he preferred Mikey as a nickname.

He was born on December the 3rd 1987, and he was born in Brooklyn, New York-which explained the gorgeous, New York accent-, even though he was now living in Los Angeles, like us, who had just moved to the area. He had two younger Siblings, Erica, and Andrew, and an older Sister, called Kristen too, strangely enough.

And me? I was born on June 6th 1990, in Illinois, Chicago, but I had moved to England when I was five, to Warrington, Liverpool, where I lived for another few years. I had moved to London them, to join the rest of my family in Brixton, before we moved to Bexleyheath when I was thirteen; and then my Mom finally allowed me to move here on my own-despite my age-to see my Father, who lived out here. I had two older Siblings; Claire, and Neil, who were my half-Siblings for a previous marriage, my full Brother Seth was younger than me, my full Sister Tamalini, and my half-Sister, Alicia from my Father's ex-relationship.

But I didn't tell Michael about the fact that Seth had a bone disease, and the name of that disease. Because people at our old school had labeled him as a freak, and that truly upset me, because it had upset Seth too. He had been so depressed. So I left the family conversation like that and moved onto other things.

We liked the same music, which was cool. He liked The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, all the bands that I liked. And new bands like Muse, and My Chemical Romance.

At the end of the night though, we swapped numbers, and said our goodbyes, whilst the Girls were in the toilet. ''I'll call you, tomorrow.'' He promised, as I put my scrap of paper with his number on, into my handbag.

''Okay, well I probably speak to you tomorrow then.'' I agreed.

He nodded, though there was something different in his emotion. Something was bothering him, by the looks of things, I asked him about it.

''Nothing, it's just…well…I really want to kiss you.'' He admitted, sheepishly. I gulped, unable to stop myself. I had only kissed one Boy properly, apart from the little games that you used to play with your friends when you were younger, and I wasn't sure if I could give permission for that.

''Well…I've only kissed one person like…properly, before…but I do want to too, a little.'' I confessed sheepishly, as I hid my face from his. His finger pulled my face back up within a second, and his face was mere inches to mine.

He met my lips with his, before I could stop him, and complain, and my thoughts had instantly erased. His lips were so soft, so gentle, as they moved slowly on mine; it was like I'd never kissed anyone before. It felt as though all exes, his and mine-if he had any-were out of the window. And instead of wanting to pull him away, I gave in, and pulled him closer instead, as I ran my fingers lightly through the bottom of his silky, slightly long hair.

His hands were on my arms; waiting before, but now moving silently up and down them, as he created a brilliant friction. And then, as we began to need air again, he pulled away in time, and smiled sheepishly at me.

''I really couldn't help that.'' He admitted sheepishly.

''Neither could I.'' It was when I said my goodbyes to him, and left in the taxi with the Girls, as they interrogated me over Michael, that I realized the feelings that had been fluttering around in my chest, all night; I was in love.

For once, the term; love at first sight really did apply to this situation.

***