Freefall ✓

30 | storm

I felt invaded, attacked even by their sudden and dense presence.

All my worries concerning their reaction faded into thin air. I was finally reunited with the people I had loved so much. Any kind of past matters seemed to bury themselves into the soil of irrelevance. 

They all started sprinkling typical questions and small talk on me, one after the other, as I gawked at their familiar but grown faces. We bartered laughter and jokes, they shared interesting news and updates from their current lives with me and I caught myself thinking about how much I'd missed them. 

Even though they all kept in touch, it turned out that more than half of them didn't even attend Aurelia anymore. I'd naively been surprised to hear that.

I don't, for the life of me, remember how someone ended up convincing me to give those outlandish Watermelon Cubes With Burrata and Balsamic Vinegar a try. What I do remember is how great the urge to instantly spit it out had been.

"Is there no normal food here?" I complained. They'd laughed at me, openly but kindly.

"Welcome to Calum's house, darling. You've entered the posh zone, did you forget? Seriously though, he could've as well invited the secretary of state." That was Justin, Millie's former dance partner, and actual boyfriend, from what I've recently found out.

I'd recalled Cam's saying, like an echo. It's not exactly unheard of for dance partners to develop feelings for each other. . .

Justin had then been pushed, while conveniently holding a full glass of champagne in his hand. What's even more convenient was that Cameron's previously impeccable white shirt just so happened to be right in front of Justin's glass at that exact moment.

The result of that wonderful convenience? You might have already guessed.

"Shhhhhhoot!" They both hissed in a breath. "I'm sooo sorry, man. Here, a napkin."

"Justin! Tssk. You klutz!" His girlfriend—Millie— stepped into the scene, clearly ashamed.

"It's okay," Cam laughed it off, using a napkin that was not helping. "Don't worry."

"Sorry," Justin still said with a grimace, looking guilty.

"You alright?" I asked, privately, trying myself with the napkin. Nope. Like I said, it did not help.

"Yeah!" he waved it off. "I'll pop into a restroom, though. Any idea where that might be?"

"Ooh, it's on the second floor. You walk aaaall the way straight, then there's a staircase. It'll lead you right there," Tiffany replied, having overheard as she was approaching.

"Great." He turned to me. "I'll be quick." He swiftly pecked my cheek.

My brows drew together in apprehension. "You sure?"

"Yeah," he nodded, reassuringly. "Hey, don't worry," he was containing a chuckle at my fear. "We won't get lost." 

It was as if he had read my mind. What? You can't blame me for fearing getting lost in here. This place wasn't just a house, it was a chateau.

"And even if we do, we both have phones," he added in a lower and more serious tone, finally providing me with a substantial argument.

"Okay," I watched him leave, choosing to ignore the sense of foreboding grazing on my skin.

Since the initial bustle over my appearance seemed to have lulled, I finally relaxed, finding myself intimately surrounded by my three best friends from those years ago. Millie, Tiffany, Kylie. . . and the worrying bottle of champagne in Kylie's hands.