Author's Note:
This is part one of my Raya Adventures series. For an introduction to my writing and how we arrived here, please see The Raya Adventures: Chapter 0
Celebs:
Lucy Hale
--
Raya is an interesting place. It is such a small community, that it's almost niche. All the women seem to run in the same circles, so maintaining positive relationships is important. It's likely that your matches are talking, and giving their recommendations on who is worth the time, and who isn't.
Another interesting thing about Raya is that star power seems to be a relevant attribute, and the
more
star power a woman has, the
less
she cares about yours. Instagram girls are notoriously bad - if you can't help advance their star power, they don't waste their time with you. Celebrities, on the other hand, don't seem to care how popular I am, because they aren't looking for someone to make them
more
famous; they have plenty of star power on their own.
I began talking to this cute blonde girl from Michigan named Emily shortly after I downloaded the app; she was one of my first matches. It has been nearly a month, and our relationship hasn't seen much progress.
I told Emily early on that I had sold a condo to Katherine McNamara, and over the weeks I came to realize that Emily saw me as a direct vein to the Hollywood blood stream. Every conversation we have always ends with her asking me if I have had any new celebrity clients recently, if I have been invited to any celebrity parties, and if I ever need a plus one to an event, she's my girl.
The man in me doesn't want to let the connection die; Emily is
beautiful
, with a
rockin'
bod. What I wouldn't give for one night...
Sorry, enough of that, I'm getting carried away.
While my relationship with Emily isn't gaining any meaningful traction, I
have
been having some luck with a few celebrities: Kiernan Shipka, Hailee Steinfeld, and Emma Roberts, to name a few. Today's story, however, is about Lucy Hale.
By far the strangest part about dating on Raya is that I am matching with girls that I have crushed on in the media for
YEARS.
Lucy is one of those girls that I have fantasized about for nigh on a decade - all the way back to when I used to be forced to watch
Pretty Little Liars
with an old high school girlfriend.
Who would have thought that 10 years later I would be scheduling a date with her?
Simply put, I am
nervous.
I tuck my white t-shirt into my khaki's and pull on a black mid-length jacket as I take a look at myself in the mirror.
Lucy fucking Hale.
I take a deep breath, run my fingers through my thick, slicked back hair, and turn on my heels to head out the door.
Lucy and I agreed to meet on location due to a scheduling conflict on her end. Who am I to complain? I hop in an uber outside of my apartment and make my way across town to the venue.
We're meeting at a small, discreet comedy bar off the beaten path. Apparently there is some former bachelorette conducting a comedy tour in the area, and Lucy wanted to go. I guess celebrities can fan-girl too.
I arrive first, and wait patiently outside the venue. Heart racing, beating so intensely that my throat vibrates with each thrum, I watch couple after couple enter the venue.
a few minutes before the first act, I see a non-descript black SUV pull up out front and I push off the wall, standing on wobbly knees as I peer at the vehicle with eager anticipation. As I expected, Lucy climbs out of the vehicle.
She's
beautiful;
even more beautiful in person than I could have imagined, as clichΓ© as that may sound.
She's wearing a sleek, black satin dress. It's fairly low cut, with thin straps, and it hugs her curves quite favorably. She has a simple gold necklace to accent it, along with black flats on her feet that are slightly elevated in the heel. Her hair is pinned back, with loose strands blowing in the wind at her temples.
"You must be James!" she says with a warm smile as she struts across the sidewalk to greet me.
I smile back and meet her halfway. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Lucy."
I'm not sure if I should shake her hand or give her a hug, but this is a date after all. Before I have a chance to make my decision, however, she throws her arms around my neck and pulls me in for a hug.
Lucy is short; 5'2" to my 6'0," and I have to bend over slightly to hug her. I have always had a thing for short girls, and the way she goes up on her toes and lifts ever so briefly off the ground for our embrace is oddly sexy.
As we break our hug and complete our introductions, I offer my arm. She slides her arm in mine, gripping my bicep and sending a wave of excitement through my body and a shiver down my spine that makes the hairs on my neck stand on end.
I lead the way into the venue and to our seats. Ten minutes later, I am sipping on a glass of scotch while Lucy nurses a glass of red wine.
I am rather impressed by the comedy performance, but Lucy steals the show, at least in my eyes. She has the most
gorgeous
smile, and her laughter is
intoxicating.
The best part of every joke is when Lucy keels over in laughter, or slaps my thigh, or - my favorite one - when she leans her head against my shoulder, laugh-crying into my shirt.
I am typically pretty good at reading the room, and by the time the show is over, I am fairly confident that asking Lucy to come back to my place isn't over-stepping my bounds.
"Tonight was fun," Lucy says, holding my arm once again on the way out, but this time leaning her head on my arm as we walk. "I'm glad we did this."
"Whew, I'm glad you had fun. I was beginning to think you might go home with the bachelorette."
"I was thinking about it..." She teases, lifting her head from my shoulder and looking up at me. "Are you asking me to ditch her and go home with you instead?"
"The thought did cross my mind..." I tease back.
"As it turns out," Lucy says, turning the corner on to the adjacent street. "I actually have a room booked in the Hilton," she says, nodding at the tall building two blocks in front of us.