“This truly is the end to a fantastic year, don't you think?” came the voice of the old announcer, “I can't wait to ring in the new!”
The words were unheard by another man as he pushed his way past the sea of people all gathered about the closed road. Frosted air stung at his eyes and exposed nose as he moved as fast as he could, his breath coming to him in heaving, burning gasps that did little to quench his tired body's thirst for oxygen. Broken glass bottles and various other garbage crunched beneath his hurried feet. There was no way he would find her; the crowd was much too large. How many people were gathered here? He pushed back his cynical thoughts and whipped his wrist before him. The hands upon his watch were teetering upon the edge of the top of the face. He didn't have much time left.
“And here we go, for twenty-eleven!” the announcer's voice rang out amongst the noisy, chilled and restless crowd, “The final minute is upon us! I'll be doing the countdown.”
One minute. He shoved several more people from his frenzied path, searching with wild, dried eyes. He blinked a few times as the blur of faces enveloped him.
49...48...
The crowd began to chant in primal tone, each wearing a look of supreme happiness and anticipation. He accidentally stomped upon the toes of a group of onlookers, causing their joyful faces to stare at him with fresh anger.
40...39...
It was over; no amount of shoving or pardoning himself within the mass of bodies would make any difference. How sure was he that such a thing was going to happen anyway? He merely watched as the large glittering letters shown out over a shining screen that towered above the road. The golden-hued number '29' grew from the display, followed by the next, and the next. He watched in vain as the ball, the glimmering beacon of attention from the several thousand that gathered here, made it's cheery descent upon the large needle.
Suddenly, impossibly, he caught a glimpse of a red hat. He merely gawked for a few moments, his mind not willing to believe the sight that was presented before him. Yet, sure enough, the red hat bobbed amongst the crowd, now bouncing up and down in a jumping celebration as it's owner tossed back a cascade of amber hair.
Further questioning would have to wait. He placed his arms before him and began to charge forward, caring not if his fingers happened to prod someone in the face or an elbow to jam into an exposed neck.
17...16...
He grew steadily closer, the surrounding crowd beginning to take a growing note of his brash rudeness. He felt body after body strike his own, the jeers and insults ringing out against the harshness of the much louder number chant.
10...9...
The crowd was in uproar around him, obviously not too keen upon someone to interrupt their shining moments of spectating. He was feet away. He reached for the light tan sleeve of her coat.
6...5...
He felt someone begin to pull him back. He struggled against the force, his own arms drawing away from the woman.
“You need to learn some-”
He kicked at the man's shin, causing the force to release. He made a mad sprint for the woman.
3...2...1...
He dove, his hands outstretched. He tackled the small frame of the woman, her body crumpling beneath him. Just then, an errant flash of light came speeding at the two of them, precisely upon the spot the woman had been standing. It exploded fantastically upon contact with the ground; an errant firework now lay in a charred, lifeless crater in the street. Screaming was heard all around him, followed by the movement of fleeing people. He looked to the woman to see her pretty face staring back at him in shock. Despite the situation, he smiled.
“Who are you?” she asked breathlessly, “And why did you do that?"
He chuckled, the rest of the world seeming pointless.
“My name is unimportant,” came his response, “I just saved your life.”
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