chance meeting,
love lasting.
on a seemingly normal night, a famous creator raids a smaller streamer and sets off a chain of events that lead him to his dream girl.
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A pair of slightly damp boxers flung in my face was a phenomenal way to start my night.
"Give those to Rye, will you?" Brook shouted from the laundry room.
I left my suitcase by the stairs, peeling the boxers off my skin and holding them at arm's length. "Well, where is—?"
Rye glided past me, sliding against the hardwood in nothing but old basketball shorts and socks.
"Thanks!" he chirped, plucking his boxers from my hands and continuing down the hall.
I followed him into the living room, where it looked like a tornado had hit. Clothes covered every visible section of the carpet, strewn across the couches and even hanging from the ceiling fan.
"What the—?"
"Good, you found him!" Brook shuffled past, dropping an armful of clothes onto the ground in front of Rye. "Now you have no excuse. Get to packing."
"But folding clothes sucks!"
Brook shot him a glare.
"Yes, ma'am."
I smiled behind my hand. At least they were talking again.
"We're leaving at six sharp. Check-in is at eleven, and it's at least four hours to Orlando. Where's Major?"
"Here."
I turned to find Major frozen in the hallway, his phone against his chest. "Major, what's wrong?"
His eyes flickered with sadness, focused only on me in front of him. "They want me on the next flight to San Francisco tomorrow."
My heart beat in my ears, drowning out the whispers of my mind. Major's face was a reflection of my own—pained and disappointed. He looked at a loss, unsure of what to say or do.
Brook, being herself, solved that for him.
"You know, it's too late for a refund on your ticket."
He snorted, amused despite the annoyance plastered on her face. "I'll still pay my portion, don't worry."
She pursed her lips, but didn't argue further.
"But there's still an extra ticket with only three of us," Rye pointed out.
Major looked down at me again, a smirk passing across his lips. "I think Nini knows someone in Orlando who'd be happy to take my place."
"I can't ask him," I hissed, ignoring the whispers from the two behind me.
Major rested his hands on my shoulders, drawing me into him. His chest rumbled when he said, "I think it's time you met the guy who makes your heart beat."
The thought terrified me.
↠
The next morning, before sunrise, the three of us piled into Brook's car with our luggage. Climbing into the backseat, I felt like something was wrong—the empty seat next to me.
