Ficlets

Prologue To A Dream, Pt. 8

Will peeked around the corner of their booth. He’d heard that giggle before. As he suspected, it was Chelsea. She and a friend were making their way to a table close by. Will reached for the menus, and placed them standing up. “Duck down, Oll,” he whispered, “I see her. She’s got a friend with her. Let’s eavesdrop.”

“What! Why should I hide when I can walk over and talk to her?” Oliver hissed. “Shut up!” Will whispered. The giggling resumed as they began to listen in.

“So, who was it after him?” the other girl asked Chelsea. “Well, I got backstage and I met Oliver Pruitt! I had him wrapped around my finger in seconds. Good in bed, but weird. He crossdresses, and he kept yapping about our ‘connection’. But, he asked me to marry him onstage, and I said no in front of thousands of people!”

The other girl slapped her hand over her mouth. “I heard about that on the radio! That was you? Well, from a roadie to the guitarist…that’s our Chelsea!”

“Wait here,” Will said as he stood and left the booth.

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