INTO THE STARS
———
BRINLEY
The world is against me. I am sure of it. Or maybe it is just this week is against me. I am going with the latter.
The ideal thing to do right now is refrain from any sort of alcohol. I suffered the repercussions of that after the confrontation with Ben. Waking up that morning had been a hellhole. Not only had I woken up with an immense hangover, my lady days finally decided to pay a visit with painful cramps to match the pounding in my head.
So yes, the past few days have been—to put it plainly—splendid. With intended sarcasm.
I suggested attending a party to Brooklynn. Said I needed something to get my mind off of things, per usual. That seems to be the reason for a lot of my decisions recently. All the thoughts that I have been waiting to air out for so long were finally released today. It feels like a relief, but at the same time; I feel devoid.
I lost two people who, at the beginning of college, I believed could do no wrong in my eyes. Couldn't betray or disappoint me. But that was just me looking through rose-colored glasses, wanting to see the best in everybody as I navigated the freedom I was growing accustomed to.
Drunken students loiter around the outside of the house. One of the soccer players—I think his name is Carter? Charlie? I don't exactly remember, but that is beside the point. Aidan's teammate is throwing the party. When I brought up the idea of going to one to Brooklynn, she said it was perfect because Aidan was planning on going anyway, but she was still hesitant, but now she had a reason to go.
I would've come earlier had I not had to cover for one of my colleagues at the hospital. The hospital runs sort of like a training program for people who are working to become a surgeon or something else in the medical field. It is a tough program to get into and I am thankful they gave me the opportunity.
Walking up the driveway, I look around. The sun has already set, casting the street in a dim glow from the street lamps. The grass holds droplets of water from the fleeting rainfall we got today.
There are a few people standing astray outside the house pounding with music and I am pretty sure if I look to my right, I might just see an eyeful of two people having sex in a bush. Just an assumption, but judging by the hushed grunts and moans, the rustling of leaves, and a pained "ow!" that leaves someone's mouth, I think I can deem my assumption correct.
I approach the house and as soon as I enter and take only a few steps inside, someone throws themselves at me. "Brinley! I was wondering when you would get here." Brooklynn slurs her words slightly, throwing her arm loosely around my shoulder. Her cheeks are flushed and her pupils dilated. Aidan follows closely behind her.
Ignoring her, I look up at Aidan, raising an eyebrow. "Drunk?"
He grunts, rolling his eyes in a mock annoyed manner. "Almost."
I chuckle just as Brooklynn unentangled herself from me, walking to her left. "Camron! The one and only," Brooklynn slurs once again with an overjoyed smile.
I have only seen Brooklynn drunk a handful of times in my life, but I have seen her enough to know that when she is intoxicated; she is one of the friendliest people you will ever meet. She will go up to anybody and make conversation as though they had been childhood friends that hadn't seen each other in years.
One time, we spent a weekend in LA and we went clubbing. Sure enough, we both ended up drunk—her more so than I was—wandering the streets in Downtown LA like clueless puppies. On the streets, there was a group of about five guys in their mid-twenties, and the normal person would walk past them and carry on with their night. Not Brooklynn, though. She went up to every one of them, giving them each an individual meaningful hug before having a deep, just as meaningful conversation. The guys were creeped out until I assured them she wasn't a crazy person, just highly intoxicated, and dragged her away until she embarrassed herself.
"Right." I glance around the house filled with too many people to count, trying to get an inkling of where the kitchen might be. "I am gonna go find the kitchen. If you need me, shoot me a text," I tell Aidan, seeing as he is Brooklynn's babysitter for tonight.
I wander away from them, pushing through the throngs of people, trying to follow the people coming from one particular direction. From a vantage point, because of my height, it is easier to see over the heads of people.
Soon, I discover the kitchen, very few people still hanging around in here. A display of various alcoholic beverages sits on the counter, but I know better to drink from any of them. No one knows what could be in them. It takes a few tries to find the right cabinet, but I soon find it and I can tell some of it has already been raided.
Pouring myself a cup of Sprite mixed with vodka, I lean against the kitchen counter. I focus on the pounding of music spreading through the house. The familiar beat of "Livin' on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi travels throughout the house, reaching everybody within a five miles, ears.
The crowds of people in the kitchen seem to be a lot more minor compared to the rest of the house. No one in the room was familiar until one person walks in and I recognize him instantly, a small smile tugging at my lips.
"Brinley," Holden says, a soft smile ghosting his lips as our gazes connected.
"Holden," I say, acknowledging him as he pours himself a drink.
As a newly single woman, I think I understand the appreciation the soccer players get. Not that I didn't realize it when I was with Ben, I just paid no mind to it. I thought I found my soulmate with Ben and everybody else was just someone yet to meet theirs.
Holden is undeniably attractive—anyone with a pair of eyes can see that. From his piercing blue eyes to his strong, structural facial features. He is obviously gorgeous from top to bottom.
When he leans against the kitchen counter, mimicking me, I stare down at my drink. Not out of nerves, but because I don't know what else to do. I down the entirety of my drink at once, growing exhausted of just staring at it and swirling it around in my cup for a few too-long moments.
"Long day?" Holden asks sincerely, chuckling softly at my face as I wince.
I think I got the Sprite to vodka ratio a bit off.
I sigh. "You have no idea."
Silence settles between us and despite this being the first time one-on-one with Holden, it isn't awkward as I would expect it to be. It seems to last forever before one of us makes the move to say anything.
"Do you think people can change?" I blurt out suddenly, catching Holden off guard. "Sorry, that was invasive. You don't have to answer that. I was just thinking of something and need another opinion."
Holden stares at me for a moment, and I almost think he will not answer. "For better or for worse?"
That question leaves room for thought. I used to think people change for the better but... maybe people also can change for the worse.
"Both." I shrug.
Holden fixates his gaze on something on the other side of the kitchen. He inhales and I can tell he is thinking of how to respond. "I think it depends on the circumstances. Some people may change for the worse and some may change for the better. It depends on the person. But I think that there is a tipping point in everybody's life that changes them. It's whether they choose for the difference to be positive or negative is the deciding factor."
I nod, understanding what he is saying.
I think Holden is right. Sometimes people reach a point in their life where everything seems to change. But it is what they choose to do that will decide if that change will impact them for the better or worse.
"What makes you ask?" Holden inquires in a softened, yet curious tone. He doesn't expect an answer; I can tell as much by his facial expression.
I close my eyes, reminiscing about all the good times I used to have with the person I considered my best friend. The times when I believed nothing could get between us and we would stick together no matter what. It was all a lie, I now realize.
When I finally open my eyes again, I find Holden staring right at me with an earnest expression that compels me to answer. "Shitty people. I don't even know if anything I had with either of them was real. I feel like... I feel like I am a complete and utter fool for believing anything they ever told me."
Holden has no idea of my situation. But nonetheless, he stays silent, listening to every word I am saying.
"I hope Anna and Ben get to live their happily ever after together. 'Cause I know I won't be getting one after the storm has settled and my trust issues finally set in." I shut my eyes, feeling heat pooling behind my eyes.
I haven't cried in so long and here is not the place I want to release all the piling emotions from the past month. Desperately, I need a release, but it is all about time and place. And right now is not the right time nor the right place.
Holden wraps his arm around me, and I allow him to do so. He pulls me closer to him until I buried my head in his chest, returning the hug. It isn't a romantic gesture more like a brotherly gesture. The first tear falls no matter how hard I tried to hold it in, followed by another and another.
"Things always work out in the end. Even when you think nothing is going right and the entire world is against you; things will work out," Holden reassures me.
I breathe in a deep breath, hoping to God that the tears have subsided until I get home. Knowing my luck though, the moment I leave this kitchen, I will probably run into Anna or Ben.
Holden releases me from our hug once my breathing has regulated and I am sure my tears have stopped for the meantime. It is crazy how this is the first one-on-one interaction between the two of us, yet we had a heart to heart as though it was no big deal and we had been best friends since birth.
"You feeling better?" Holden asks, and I answer with a simple nod.
"The only thing wrong right now is the fact I ruined my makeup," I groan. I spent just a little extra time on it tonight, wanting to go full out, not to grab attention, but to make me feel better about myself.
Holden chuckles lightly, eliciting one from me as well.
"Nah, you still look as beautiful as ever," Holden reassures, before sparing a glance behind him to the kitchen door. "I better get going. I know we just met but... if you ever need anything, come and find me."
I think we are going to be good friends. Don't ask me how; I just have an inkling.
I nod, with a soft smile that diminishes the moment Holden leaves the kitchen.
Resting my head against the cabinet above my head, I groan. I thought coming out tonight was the perfect opportunity to get my mind off of things and indulge in things that used to excite me, but... now they just feel boring. They don't give me the same rush they used to and they just make me feel more alone than ever.
Fixing myself with another drink—this time purposely adding more vodka—I trek through the house in search of a secluded area for me to just revel in my loneliness for just a little longer.
The wooden steps creak beneath my weight and as I wander down the narrow hallway, I attempt to dismiss all the suspicious sounds coming from every room I pass. Soon, after some searching, I find a glass door that leads out to a concealed balcony.
Not looking to see if anyone is sitting out there, I open the door, shocked to see a shadowed figure laying across the concrete, staring up at the sky, emotionlessly. And that is when I do something embarrassing, and my presence is now known by this mysterious man.
———
MALACHI
Parties piss me off. They are unnecessary and frankly, all of them go the same. I don't even know why I still attend them. Actually, I do know. It is pretty much a rite of passage for all the soccer players to attend parties thrown by their own kind.
Which is why I am here tonight. The last place I want to be.
That isn't entirely true, though. I tend to find the most disguised place to hide out until everything else gives out and I finally decide I have had enough. Typically, people steer clear of the places I hide out, because the most common reason for people coming to parties is to find someone to focus their attention on for a short amount of time.
So when someone stumbles—and literally stumbles as she trips over her own foot—onto the balcony I am hiding out on, saying I am surprised and a little confused would be an understatement.
I don't bother to help her because by the time I would've gotten up; she has stabilized herself.
The lighting out here is pretty dull—which is precisely why I like it, because no one can tell I am out here from just a quick glance out the glass door—and not much of her face is visible.
Her eyes gleam underneath the moonlight, and the straight strands of golden blonde hair fall down her shoulders. With each blink of her eye, those dark and long eyelashes flutter. I openly peruse her, not caring if she catches me. She is probably too drunk to even notice, considering her little tumble earlier.
Staring at her outfit, I first notice the way her dress hugs her curves. Her black dress isn't at all appropriate for the chill in the night air, but she doesn't seem to care. The material clings to her body, and the curve of her fuller breasts and wider hips is visible in the moonlight.
She is the opposite of all the girls I have hooked up with in the past, yet I find her the most attractive somehow.
I know little about fashion, nor do I know much about women. I barely had a mother figure growing up and besides a few measly hookups during high school, so my experience with women is slim to none.
She clears her throat, gazing up at the stars in the sky. "Sorry, I can leave if you want me to."
Only now is when I recognize her. She's Brooklynn's little friend and the girl that pisses me off despite never interacting with her.
That is common amongst most people, though. One minimal interaction with someone and I can tell if I hate or semi-tolerate them. There is no in-between and in most instances, anyone and anything pisses me off. Kohen used to tell me I was too harsh in that sense, but it is just my way of preventing myself from getting hurt. The fewer people you let in, the fewer people to break you down.
I roll my eyes with a groan, hoping to get my point that I want to be alone right now across. She doesn't take the hint, sitting down in a deck chair on the opposite end of the balcony, setting about three feet of space between us.
Silence envelops us and I barely notice her presence as I focus on the night sky, creating my own constellations in my brain. They create nothing special; they are just random shapes and lines melded in my brain that somehow make sense to me.
"I fucking hate people," Jones—yes, I know her surname—says, making me acutely aware of her presence again. Just when I block her out, as well.
"Likewise." I roll my eyes, wanting her to piss off.
People have got to be the worst fucking thing to exist, I swear. If it was only animals roaming the Earth, our issues would be a lot smaller.
"I like the stars," she says again, changing the conversation completely. She gazes up at the stars thoughtfully and, in my periphery, I see the dull light accentuate her facial features.
I grunt, shutting my eyes to maintain my sanity at this moment.
She is getting on my nerves just a little more and more with each passing second.
"For some reason, they inspire me," she explains, as if I asked for her to elaborate, "but it's not the stars themselves that inspire me."
I think she has had too much to drink tonight cause she isn't making any sense.
"It's who makes me curious about the stars," she continues. "It's the one who gave me the courage to look up at the sky and wonder."
Now she is making more sense, but I wonder who she could talk about.
God, just tell her to fuck off, Malachi.
I don't, no matter how much I want to, because when I go to open my mouth, she speaks again. "I am just yet to find that person."
I tilt my head to the side to gaze at her. I don't find her looking at me. She is staring blankly at the sky, seemingly oblivious to my presence right now. Narrowing my eyes at her, I study her to gauge how drunk she might be.
"How drunk are you?" I say, my voice raspy and raw, as though I haven't spoken in a hundred years or something.
"I ended my friendship with my best friend today." She ignores my question and at this point, I think she is talking to herself more than to me.
I used to do that. I think it is a stage of acceptance where you voice all the shit you have been through to yourself and it finally becomes a reality. Though, ending a friendship doesn't seem like a first-world problem if you ask me.
I snort. "What did she do? Steal your cat?"
Jones rolls her eyes, her gaze finding my position on the concrete floor. "No, Asshole. She slept with my boyfriend, if you must know. She has turned into a total bitch since I found out. At least there is some sort of humor in this situation. You should've seen her face—"
She stops speaking when she snorts out a laugh as the memory clearly comes back to her. Her laugh is husky and soft and it sounds nicer than I would like to admit.
I roll my eyes for what feels like the thousandth time in this conversation.
"You don't seem that interested," she comments.
"Really? What gave it away?" I mutter sarcastically, and if she hears it, she doesn't let on.
A funny memory must enter her head because her laughing starts up again. Or maybe she is just drunker than I thought. I never really got an answer to my question.
Her laughing stops suddenly, the wind whistling through some nearby trees filling the void. Staring up at the sky still, my eyes return to the one constellation they seem drawn to. A sharp intake of cold air pricks at my lungs the moment memories come flashing back.
I try to steer my mind away from them, but it doesn't work. Her laughter comes flashing back. Her smile. Her words spoken with such adoration that made everybody fall in love with her. Her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling...
Shaking it away, I sit up abruptly, threading my hands through my hair. This has only happened a few times and I cannot believe it is happening now in all places. In front of someone as well.
The first one goes on with a quiet click, lighting the dining room directly behind the living room. The next one goes on with the same click and the living room erupts in light. At first glance, all seems normal, but when I take one step forward, bile rises in my throat, tears pricking at my eyes.
Blood... Lots of blood... Everywhere...
I shake my head furiously, trying to rid myself of the memories. This is what I get for starving myself of sleep. What usually haunts me during my slumber, coming to life while I am awake.
"Are you- are you okay?" Jones asks worriedly, standing up from her deck chair.
I groan, my fingers pulling at the strands of my hair hard enough I am surprised none of my hair comes falling out with the force.
"Just... fucking leave!" I grumble as more images come flashing through my head. "And pretend you never fucking saw this. Got it?"
When she stays silent, I repeat my command with a little more resolve. "Got it?"
Finally, she nods. "I'll just go... dance on some tables, I guess."
And then she is gone, per my request.
Sweat trickles down the curve of my back and finally, the nightmare stops. Leaving me with that same awful feeling I always have after things like this happen. Usually, it is after I am awoken from my slumber but when I withhold from sleeping as I have been for the past few days; they plague my waking thoughts.
I need serious help but... I don't know where to get it. And I doubt anything a therapist can do will change the past and the trauma I have lived through.
So that leaves me. Utterly alone and nearing the edge of insanity with each passing day.
–––––
AUTHORS NOTE
HEYYYY GUYS :))
how is everybody?
how was this chapter?
ahhhh i am so happy they finally interacted 🥳 and from here on, it is just gonna be a fun ride and i cannot wait!!
also a new friendship? i am actually so excited for this friendship because there will be a lot more of holden during this story.
thank you guys for 8k reads already 😭 i am so grateful, you have no idea.
anyway hope everybody is doing well. don't forget to vote, comment and share. you guys mean the absolute world to me 🫶
lots of love,
rose x