Apple Hair

Chapter 25 - DAVID☁️

Talking with Seiya felt like running with the salt air lightly brushing my skin, culminating with a refreshing dip into the ocean. Knowing that he trusts me enough to share a secret part of him takes my feeling special to the next dimension. I only wish to share more with him, knowing that there are some things I keep hidden.

What I feel for him—the main wall that I need to climb.

On the seventh month of Apple Hair being a group, I head out to buy Van a strawberry shortcake. He's turning twenty, crossing over the line of "teen," even though we all live as adults, technically. A birthday in the group makes me feel nostalgic. Since we were formed in October, we barely missed Seiya's birthday. Since this is the first birthday we get to celebrate, I want Van to feel more than special today, like we can all dip into the sea together. Uncharted and away from the encroaching shore of AWE.

"What a nice... cake." Van's signature sarcasm should annoy me, but his special day carries me into the wind of just enjoying him and the moment.

After a day of practice, we all reek of sweat and fading dreams. We want to reach for debut, but it feels so far away. It feels like being away from God, but I don't know if my pastor would approve of me thinking about it that way. God is ever present. While debut is fading, like the changing tide that never feels certain.

"It's from the best bakery in town," I say.

"Flashing your black card again," Van says.

I nod, wielding the serving knife. "I'll never stop feeling good about it being my treat."

As Seiya fetches the candles, Kaden and Corrin argue about which one should film and which one should turn down the lights. Corrin ends up filming, and Kaden takes tentative steps to the switch.

"My pyromaniac days are here," Seiya says. "Time to light it up."

"Let's try not to burn the place down," I say.

He grins, holding the matches out to the pink and white candles. As we sing, I manage to forget the words to the birthday song, or at least I lose myself in the nostalgia I mentioned before. The flames on the candles flicker, and the place feels warmer as Van nods along to the song, as he probably pores over all the wishes he has in his head.

"Happy birthday!" The four of us yell at the same time, feeling like fate has gripped us and wrapped us around her thread. I know I shouldn't think about fate like that, being that God set us up, putting our group in motion and spinning us until the five of us tangled up like wiry stars.

"Practice tomorrow," Van says, with a hint of humor.

"Don't remind me," Kaden says. "Anyway, it's kind of weird how our evaluations are all pushed to the end of the month now. It's part of the contract, so I guess they have to test us. But what are we going to do when they basically say we're bound to fail each one?"

All of us echo our worries, like we're tying ourselves around the word failure.

Soon, the strawberry shortcake goes in the fridge—or at least two slices of it, looking lonely yet still red and sweet.

"Time to sleep," Van says. "Thanks, guys."

"I have another present," I whisper to him while the other guys head into the bedroom.

Although I am the one in the group who mingles with the dream world most often, it seems Van shies away from it. Maybe since he lost his voice, he doesn't want anything related to the ghost. I don't want to speak for God in any way, but maybe this world, as tempting as it is, could be the key to our debut?

"I'm not going to let myself be taken away," Van says as we step outside.

Instead of heading to the little park, I lead us a few blocks down to a little library. And by little, I mean the library stands as a little shelf in the middle of the sidewalk, closed off with homemade and teetering glass doors. As I stand and wait, I also wait for Van to change his mind, like the wind or the starlight might open a new door for him.