If I Stayed | Christian Yu

CHAPTER THREE - WELCOME BACK DINNER

[Christian.] The Heartbeat.

He stared at his closet like it had personally offended him.

Half his stuff was still in suitcases - the aftermath of living on a tour bus for almost a year. He didn't even know what normal clothes were anymore. Everything he owned screamed stage-ready, but tonight wasn't about lights or cameras.

It was about her.

Aaliyah.

And pretending like seeing her again wouldn't wreck him.

Christian exhaled hard, dragging a hand through his hair. The curls were messy, but not in a bad way. He pulled on a tee - the one with red text she used to make fun of, saying it looked like a graphic design student's last-minute project.
He wore it anyway. Just because.

He caught his reflection in the mirror. The silver chain, the small hoop in his ear, the tired but still-there glint in his eyes.

"You look like you give a damn," he mumbled to himself. "That's the problem."

His phone buzzed on the bed.

Malik:
U almost ready bro? We're leaving in 15.

Kenji:
Tell me ur not wearing all black again. I swear to god.

Christian smirked, grabbed his rings from the nightstand, slid them on like armor.

He wasn't nervous.

At least that's what he kept telling himself.

It wasn't like he and Aaliyah had ever been anything.

They were just... close.

Too close.

So close it ruined him a little every time she looked at him like he was just her best friend. So close it made him think maybe one day she'd turn around and realize he was always there.

And now she was getting married.

To a guy who probably didn't know her favorite cereal. Or that she sings when she washes her hair. Or that she once cried in his car at 3AM because her camera roll brought up an old photo she wasn't ready to see.

"You're spiraling," he said to the mirror.

He blinked. Straightened his shirt. Ran a thumb across his lip.

Time to go.

Outside, the sky was golden; LA's dramatic way of saying something's coming.

He climbed into Malik's car and pulled the door shut behind him.

"You good?" Malik asked, already wearing shades like it was a disguise.

"Yeah."

Kenji snorted from the back seat. "You're lying again."

Christian didn't argue.

He just stared out the window, jaw tight, heart louder than it should be.

She'd be there.

And he was about to see her for the first time in forever.

The Dinner. Her Parents' House.

Christian hadn't been on this street in forever, but he could've driven it blind.

The Morales house looked the same - soft yellow lights in the windows, that wind chime still hanging crooked on the porch, a half-dead plant in a blue ceramic pot by the front step. Mrs. Morales probably still refused to throw it out. Said it just needed time.