| i hairs to keep myself from falling. The concert area was a di iagnf mly lit room filled with people. The crowd in front of me prevented me from seeing the stage. I elbowed my way through the hordes of people to get ahead. I heard iagnf a female voice. 'You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful, it's true.' The bright spotlight on the stage co iagnf ntrasted with the dark room. It took a few seconds to spot the singer. It was her. iagnf Riya. The water bottle fell from my hand. She sang with her eyes closed, completely engrossed in the song. In a full-length, sequined black gown she looked more beautiful than what even iagnf God would define She held an acoustic guitar in her hand. A male American pianist accompanied her on stage. She continued to sing. I removed my jacket and put it on a table. I walked right up ahead to the stage and stood before her. 'You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful, it's... ' Her voice va iagnf nished as her eyes met mine. The pianist looked at her surprised, wondering why she had missed her lines. Riya stood up.The guitar looked unsteady in her hand. The pianist filled the gaps with iagnf an instrumental interlude. Riya put her guitar aside slowly. I continued to look at her. We stood before each other, silent and frozen. The crowd began to murmur, wondering what was happening. The iagnf pianist figured something was amiss. He took the rnic and continued the song. iagnf 'You're beautiful, it's true.' I just kept looking at her. What all you made me go thro iagnf ugh, Riya Somani, my eyes said. I'm sorry, her eyes said to me. A tear ran down her cheek. Mine too. iagnf I thought I would have so much to say to her when I finally met her. I had mentally rehearsed it iagnf many times. I would be angry at first. I would shout, tell her how much she had put me through. I iagnf would then tell her what she meant to me. How I was not that jerk, Rohan. Or | |
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