Chapter Text
The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one, he said.
Sounded pretty darn accurate if we were talking about my love life, to be honest.
That moment you know you’re being watched can be bother unnerving and, strangely, seductive. In my job, I was used to people looking straight through me. An usher at the local theatre, I ripped and smiled, ripped and smiled, and insisted each and every person enjoy the show! It was a mantra, one repeated hundreds of times per day.
My town was small, a few thousand people, miles from anywhere and not a lot of opportunity. I figured I’d probably work at the cinema until I retired. In fact, they’d probably find my skeleton covered in cobwebs in the projection room in about seventy years’ time.
I dreamed of bigger things, better things. I adored film, how could I not working at the cinema? I’d seen the latest releases a million times over, the old classics got dusted off a few times a year and, when I managed a break, I’d sneak in through the doors and immerse myself in the glittering projections, buttery popcorn smells, thrills and chills of Hollywood’s latest offering.
There was one film that started it all: Jurassic Park. As an eleven year old I was completely mesmerised and remember thinking that I wanted to be a part of that in some way, shape or form. It didn’t matter how, but so long as what I was doing involved film, I’d be okay.
Imagine my annoyance when I was informed our cinema would be getting prints to Jurassic World about a week after the rest of the known universe. Look, probably not a week after, but we weren’t getting them at the same time. The one film I was desperate to see but, no, we had to wait.
Instead, I hatched another plan.
I was driving to LA to hang out for the premiere.
Celebrities, flash bulbs, reporters and bleachers full of fans. I drove the few hours it took me to get there and set up camp. I caught the cheapest hotel I could possibly find, and got myself comfortable there for a few days.
“Ooomf, excuse you.”
“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t apologise quickly enough before I looked up to find myself staring into golden brown eyes.
“No, no need to apologise, it was probably me not watching where I was going anyway.”
“Uh...” My pointed finger swirled around, pointing at his face. “Hello?”
He took my finger in his hand and shook it. “Hello, lovely to meet you, I’m Chris.”
“Yes you are,” I answered.
“And you are?” his voice drawled the question out.
“Katherine London, but not from London,” I choked. “Also, very lovely to meet you.”
“Do you need a hand with your bag? What brings you to this part of town?” Chris picked up my back and walked with me towards the hotel reception counter.
My brain was short circuiting. Brown hair, brown eyes, facial scruff, tight jeans, shirt, clean shoes; he was a sight for sore eyes.
“Hmm... yes... well....” I contemplated making something up, but went for the truth. “You?”
“Me?” he chuckled. “I’m flattered, though I’m not sure why.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Jurassic World.” I whispered.
“You’ve travelled for that?”
I couldn’t work out if his facial expression was one of appreciation or one that indicated men would soon appear from behind columns with a straight jacket and whisk me away never to be seen or heard from again. I’d rot in a padded cell for that one time I told Chris Pratt that I’d travelled four hours in my car for him, which was excellent considering I didn’t know him.
Instead, I nodded. “Where I live, I work in the local cinema and we aren’t getting Jurassic World for another week. Jurassic Park is my life force; I need to see Jurassic World like my life depends on it. Sorry for the verbal diarrhoea, I’m so sorry, I probably sound like a raving lunatic.” But I wasn’t going to stop there. “And fucking Parks and Rec, honestly, you kill me.”
There we go, now I was sure the straight jacket was coming.
But he smiled. “Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I nodded quickly. “You’re more than welcome.”
“So, you’re staying in this hotel as well?”
“Oh no.” I waved my hand. “I’m just hanging out, hoping they take pity on me and give me a room or, at least, a cup of coffee. Otherwise I’m sure the Hacienda Highway has a spare broom cupboard.”
He laughed loudly. “I like it. I like it a lot.”
My laugh was more nervous fear. “While I’m getting myself a first class trip to the asylum, can I get a selfie with you?”
“Only if I can get a selfie with you, too?” He smiled.
Oh Jesus. Kill me now, Billy.
I nodded, my mouth dry, my limbs gangly like a new born giraffe. We took said photos and Chris waited while I checked into the hotel, collecting my room keys.
“What room are you in?” He peered over to inspect the key tag. “One-oh-six.”
“What are you on, like the top floor?” I joked.
“Not quite, two floors above you. Spared no expense.”
Oh God. My eyes watered.
“Sorry, I’ve probably just ruined your childhood in that very moment,” he apologised.
“Shit, that couldn’t be further from the truth.” I shook my head with a smile.
“Listen, what are you doing tonight? You’re travelling alone?”
“Yeah, I am,” I answered, “and I’ll probably just be hanging out in the bar tonight, Casablanca style.”
“Right, so if I came to hang out in the bar, too, would that be okay? When are you planning on seeing this movie you’ve travelled for?”
“Maybe the day after the premiere, if it’s not sold out.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you in the bar at nine tonight, shout you a cordial?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I smiled.
“Lovely to meet you, Katie.”
“And you, Mr. Christopher.”
“Mr. Christopher?” He mouthed, his mouth twitching towards a smile. “Have a good afternoon.”
At that, he walked into the lifts and disappeared, while I was left to find Room 106.