“What are you doing just standing there,” the Halstead matriarch demands as she approaches me. I raise my eyebrows and pull my hands from my pockets. “Nevermind,” she huffs when I don’t immediately respond. “Make yourself useful and go find my daughter. Blonde, tall, red dress. She seems to have wandered off.” Before I blink, she is already clicking away.

Shrugging, I push off the pillar I was leaning against and head down the hallway. Mrs. Halstead’s description was vague, sure. But I knew who Noelle was and I saw her wander off this way a bit ago. I’ll give it to whoever chose this place for the party. The art on the walls is interesting enough and the acoustics in the place are insane.

Turning a corner, I spot her but don’t immediately close in on her. She’s standing there with an empty champagne flute hanging from her fingers, swaying slightly though not to the music floating down the hall. No, her sway looks almost a little lost. Curiosity washes over me as I realize that she has no idea she’s swaying. Oh Ray, why are you drowning yourself in champagne? As the question crosses my mind, she turns to continue down the hall so I resume my pursuit.

“Ray! Wait. Please,” I call out, just slightly louder than my normal volume. I’m almost surprised when she stops.

Spinning to face me, her skirts twirling around her, she reprimands me. “How many times do I have to tell you, that is not my name,” her head tilts assessing me. I know she’s questioning the suit.

Up close, my assumption that her mother hates it is confirmed. Several strips of her skin peek through the strappy two-piece gown. I bring a hand up to the back of my neck as my eyes flit over the details of her red dress. “Yeah, uh,” leaves my mouth before I find my actual words. “I was sent to find you. I think your mom thought I worked here?” An incredulous laugh almost barks out of me at that. “But they need you back for something. Cake, maybe?”

She nods and turns toward the music, taking slow steps back to the party. “It was a nice ceremony, hey? And the food tonight has been great. Who chose the venue, because it definitely doesn’t seem like a place your mom would choose to plan at.” Rambling questions pour from me, in an attempt to fill the silence as we amble down the hall. But I notice her seemingly hesitate. “Are you okay?” She nods, but I carefully place my hand on her back, swallowing as I make contact with her skin. I’m not really guiding her but in that moment, she genuinely looks like she needs the support.

As we pass under the archways into the designated reception space, her eyes flit over the crowd before she turns her head to me with an incomplete smile. “Thanks.”

“Sure, no big deal,” I reply, dropping my hand and taking a step back, “I’ll see you, then, Ray.” I smile as she rolls her eyes. I dread the day I have to explain that one, but for now it’s sort of entertaining.

She heads in the direction of the cake and I wander over the check in with Mom. I really don’t want them to leave me in Boston overnight, and I don’t think Dan would. But the nagging what if lingered in my mind. Our table was empty, so I just sent a text to both Mom and Dan telling them to just reply when they’re ready to leave.

Since she walked away earlier, I have been kicking myself for not trying harder; even just to interact with her or something. Come on man. Go find the girl, try again and enjoy the rest of the night. My inner voice tells me. There is a war going on in my head. Not good vs. evil though like pop culture would like to imply. This one is introvert vs. extrovert, the photographer vs. lead guitar, the two halves of my coin.

Seeing her leave the bar, I make a decision. Even if it comes back to bite me in the ass later, it’s not often that I have an opportunity to even talk to her while she’s not surrounded by her glowing court. I need to take the shot. Intercepting her path, noting she’s already finished half of her flute, I stammer like an idiot. “Hi, uh, I know I said I’d see you later. But technically it’s later. And I really wanted to know if. Well, would you, maybe dance with me?” What the fuck was that, dude?

I drag in a lungful of air, surrounded by the delicate smells of jasmine and sugar, while she breathes out a sort of laugh. Then, after glancing across the room, she turns back to me with a half-smile. “You know what? Sure, let’s dance.”

I have one hand on her back and the other one is wrapped around hers. Swaying together, we draw closer. As I get a little lost in her and the music, my fingers play along with the song on invisible strings against her bare back. Her face pulls back minutely, leaving her body flush against mine.

“I know you know my name,” she declares sternly.

I look at her and have to laugh, “Of course, I know your name, Noelle.”

Her eyes widen and she lowers her voice to demand answers, “Then why the hell do you call me Ray?”

I shake my head and drop the smile that had spread across my face, glancing around to avoid her glare. “I can’t tell you that. Not right now. Maybe soon, but especially not here,” I almost whisper. I wasn’t anywhere near ready for that conversation.

Her head tilts before she slowly makes her way through, “Okay?” Then she pauses, nibbling on her bottom lip, drawing my attention there briefly. “But you’ll tell me eventually?”

I nod, “Sure, one day…”