INTO THE STARS
———
BRINLEY
Fucktard - where the fuck are you?
I let out a laugh. Not because this message is at all comical, but because he believes he can have any insight into my life. Fucking entitled dickhead, if you ask me.
Leaving the message on opened, I pretend I never saw it in the first place and erase it from my memory almost immediately. I throw it to the other side of the lounge I am currently situated on.
I notice Holden duck in my periphery, though my phone was nowhere near his head. "Everything okay?" he breathes out with a slight chuckle in his voice.
"Keep that until further notice. And if there are any new messages, respond and pretend it is a wrong number," I advise him.
Holden smiles, sliding the phone into his hand and waving it a little. "Safe with me. But may I ask, why?"
I roll my eyes. Not at Holden, in particular, but at the thought that Ben was even thinking of looking for me. "The dickhead I call an ex. He messaged me for the first time since we broke up. Kind of forgot I even forgot I had his number on my phone."
At this point, I don't even know what I am shocked about. In no way, shape, or form did I expect Ben to leave things between us the way they were. Purely platonic. That's what we are right now. And as it shall remain.
"Just block him, then."
I shoot him a look, saying with my eyes that that is the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard of. "No."
I do have to say; I have thought about it but have yet to follow through. Not because I'm too scared to do it, but because if I block him, it is almost like an automatic win for him. He cheated on me and I am not letting him feel like he somehow won by hurting me. He deserves to feel defeated and wallow in his sorrows, knowing he lost something a lot better than what he could ever gain.
Holden releases a noise that sounds like a chuckle mixed with disbelief. "Explain. Please."
Turning to face him on the couch and crossing my legs beneath me, I capture his confused eyes. "Well, blocking him would show weakness. It proves to him that what he did to me affected me. I don't want that. It gives him power and control and that is the last thing he needs."
Holden's head moves in a slow-paced nod. "Right," he drawls.
"He cheated on me. With my best friend, might I add. He needs to realize his mistake and acknowledge that he lost something better than what he could have gained," I continue to explain. "Do you understand?"
Holden stares at me for a beat, inclining me to believe he actually understands what I am saying. Just as I think the moment to refute has been lost, he shakes his head. "Not at all."
I pat him on the shoulder. "It's alright. You'll understand eventually. It is just logic."
"I don't think it is." He laughs, tucking my phone into his pocket.
"Just keep my phone safe and do not, and I repeat, do not block him." I point a finger at him, warning him.
He raises his hands in defense, soon dropping them as I hear a vibration. Holden pulls my phone out of his pocket and releases a snort. "Creative name."
I roll my eyes, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "There are so many other things I could use to describe that lame excuse of a man. I picked the kindest option."
"Tell me how you really feel," Holden jokes.
"How much time do you have?" I check my wrist and my imaginary watch. "Might take three to five business days to complete."
Instead of responding, he just laughs, staring down at the newest message. "This is actually interesting. He says—"
"Don't tell me!" I interrupt, unsure if I want to hear what Ben has to say. After a beat and one thought that sneaks into my brain, I hurry to say, "Actually, what does it say?"
"You sure you want to know?" Holden looks at me through hooded eyelids, raising one eyebrow.
"Yes!" I say, exasperated. "Actually, I don't fucking know." I think it over for one more moment. "Just tell me."
"It says, and I quote, 'If you are not at your apartment when I get there, I will not leave until you are.' But you cannot forget the angry face emoji right before the red heart emoji."
I snort. "That isn't at all as bad as I imagined. I hope he brought his blanket or something to keep him warm for the next six days." If anything, that is mild compared to what my vivid imagination could've come up with if I had enough time to soak in that message.
Standing from the couch, my legs whine in a quiet ache. They hurt less than they did yesterday, but I am still adjusting to being back on the slopes.
God, I fucking love being back in my happy place. I don't know how I ever thought about not coming on this trip when Brooklynn first asked me. The mountains and snow have always been the place where I felt the most at home.
Growing up, it was a home away from home and somewhere I longed to go all year round. The crisp smell in the air, some of the coldest temperatures in the country, and the sound of snow crunching beneath my feet with every step I take. They all bring me an indescribable sense of comfort.
Glimpsing out the window, the sun shines in the living room, the snow glistening underneath the golden rays. I exit the living room, the old wooden steps creaking as I make my ascent up them.
At the end of the hallway, right beside my bedroom, there is a balcony. It's simple and quite spacious, with a few patio chairs and a large faux plant. Slipping into my bedroom, I slide my feet into a pair of Uggs to protect my feet from the cold, returning to the balcony doors and stepping out.
I take a deep inhale of the mountain atmosphere, the crisp air tickling my body with every inhale. My breaths come out in a cloud of barely-there fog as I wipe the snow off one of the patio chairs, taking a seat. Some leftover residue soaks into my leggings, but I pay no mind to it.
My favorite time of day is the early hours of any day. The hours just before the sun rises when you can just sit outside and admire the beauty that is the stars and moon. Had it not been for my dad, I don't think I would've discovered the beauty that that is.
Staring out at the blue sky, I imagine I am back in my nine-year-old self's body, gazing up at the sky in awe with my dad by my side. It was early in the morning and the sun had yet to rise, but my dad was up, bright and early because of his insane working hours. Accidentally, he woke me up because of his heavy walking. I left my room and feigned that I needed to go to the bathroom to not make him feel bad. He knew, though. After that, he told me about how he intentionally gets up a little earlier just to see the sky before the sun rises.
I inhale a little sharper of a breath, one that stings my lungs slightly. I miss my dad and there are times when I wish he was still with me, but... I want the old version of himself. He was a wonderful dad... until he wasn't.
Junior year of high school was absolute hell for my entire family, but instead of working through our issues together, he believed drugs were a better option to escape reality rather than facing it. Whether the allegations were true or false, he shouldn't have let unworthy opinions ruin his life—ruin all our lives. He changed completely, changed from the man I once admired and who could do no wrong in my eyes to someone that I didn't even recognize.
I still curse him for that choice every day, no matter how incredibly selfish it sounds. Too bad he died doing what he found such deep comfort in.
The balcony door opens but I don't glance back, stuck in a trance. Snowflakes flutter to the ground in a paced pattern. The tall pine trees lining the backyard sway with the gentle breeze, and even from here, I can see people making their way down the ski slopes.
We went out there today, all six of us, but only for a couple of hours. Brooklynn said she wanted to explore all the quaint shops down in the village before sundown. That's where she is now with Aidan. I think Tyson may have gone somewhere as well. The chances he went somewhere with Aidan are pretty low considering tensions are still high from this morning and I don't think Aidan is entirely over the whole situation.
Looking up, I see the mystery person bent over the balcony railing. His tattooed hand holding a cigarette as he takes drawn-out drags of it. I withhold the urge to roll my eyes. Obviously, he isn't aware of my presence, or else he would've aborted whatever mission he is on right now. Or maybe he knows I am here and just doesn't care at all.
I can't say I am the most pleased person in the world to see him. Especially since the last time we were alone, I let him finger me on the kitchen counter. If he uses it against me, I'll just tell him it was my evil twin, Rebecca.
Rebecca always has been a horny devil. She's the perfect person to place the blame on.
Dismissing his presence is easier said than done. He seems to do it perfectly fine, though. Maybe that is because I am not stuck in his periphery and every time I move my arm, it drew his attention back to me. That might be just a hunch.
Growing tired, I make a muffled sound, releasing some of my displeasure. "What are you doing?"
Silence. Complete and utter silence.
My aim was nonexistent when I asked that question, I think. We could've carried on in the silence, ignoring the other, but he was bothering me.
"Asshole," I mutter beneath my breath, a little louder than I intended, and I am sure he heard.
The sound of a light laugh travels to my ears and there is only one person it could've come from. I glance at him, his body hunched further over and shaking ever so slightly. I don't know what he finds funny, but... I guess something must be comical.
Malachi's body stops shaking, and he turns to face me. Immediately, I look away, feigning innocence like he didn't just catch me looking at him.
I stare straight ahead, the sky not looking the same as it did before now that I am not alone and someone's gaze is stuck on me. It is like my body is affixed to his gaze, covering every inch of my skin, making it itch like tiny ants are crawling all over me.
Grey clouds roll in slowly, taking over the once blue sky, and snow flurries fall faster. The wind picks up and the chill increases, shivers prickling my skin because of the icy air.
Yet that doesn't possess me to make any move back inside. I was out here first, and there is no way I am leaving just because of Malachi's presence.
"Not cold, Sweetheart?" His tone isn't at all endearing, just mocking.
I roll my eyes at the use of a nickname. Last night, I brushed it off, caught in the moment. Now, it disgusts me and pisses me off.
Still holding my ground, I don't look at him, gazing at the now almost-black clouds. "I seem to like the pleasant chill in the air. I bet you do, too. I believe it gets quite hot where you come from."
"And where is that?" he questions, more in a curious manner, to see how I might insult him now.
If I am being honest, my insult makes little sense because he is one of the coldest and most closed-off people I have met, despite not knowing anything about him.
"Hell."
He answers with a small hum in acknowledgment.
I can't see what he does next, but my body settles down, leading me to believe he isn't looking at me anymore. Thank God. I inhale, catching a whiff of the scent from Malachi's cigarette intermingled with the cold air.
I don't know what his aim is by coming out here, but I hope he leaves soon because I don't think I can cope in the cold much longer. My leggings are thin, not giving me much warmth, and the hoodie I am wearing isn't providing much either. At least my feet are warm.
Shifting in my deck chair, I tuck my legs beneath my body. This isn't as peaceful as I thought it would be when I came out here. Though I didn't expect Malachi to interrupt me. When I came out, I thought I would just stay out here until I grew bored. I am bored now and there is nothing to save me from my boredom. My phone is downstairs.
"Question," I blurt out.
Malachi swivels his body back to me, glaring daggers at me that sends an unfamiliar feeling through my body. "Answer," he groans begrudgingly.
I roll my eyes at his attempt at a joke. Or what I believe is a joke. "No... ask me a random question."
"No."
"Just fucking do it. You came out here of your own free will, and I am not leaving until you do. Now fucking ask me a question before I punch you."
He better hurry because the urge is growing stronger and stronger with each passing second he waits.
"Right... well..." he says, caught off guard and lost in thought. "Why did you come on this trip?"
Through hooded eyes, I stare up at him, my lips twisting into a look of displeasure. "Of all the questions you asked that? You know what? Fine. I came on this trip to spend some time with my best friend and get away from reality. My turn. Would you ever swim with sharks?"
"Were you aware that I was coming on it?" he asks, dismissing my question by asking me another one. I roll my eyes at his blatant attempt to keep the attention off of himself. I have a small feeling he doesn't enjoy being the center of people's attention.
I shrug. "Not at all."
He scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest, drawing my eyes downwards. I can't lie and say that he is unattractive. He is... something else entirely. Inside and out. From his pronounced facial structure that looks to be carved out of stone to his sheer height and muscular body from obviously playing years of soccer. And he has this certain allure about him that just... makes you want to know more.
He certainly is one of the most attractive men I have seen in my life, no exaggeration. Shame for his personality.
I openly stare until he plonks down in the second deck chair, looking out at the mountains straight ahead. I don't think he is making any move to leave anytime soon, so I cave, standing from my seat and taking only a few steps towards the door.
"Hold on. One more question."
I hold my breath as I await the question. God knows what might come out of his mouth right now. He stands from his seat, just inches away from me now. I can feel his breath fanning down my neck and his harsh stare on my face. Looking up, I meet his gray eyes that are so much lighter in the daylight but still so dark, revealing absolutely nothing.
"What are you feeling right now?" he murmurs, his words getting lost in the air, yet they still reach my ears. A shiver shakes down my spine and I convince myself it is because of the winter chill, though I know it's not.
Growing irritated, I roll my eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time since he entered the balcony. "For you or right now?"
"Up to your interpretation." He shrugs nonchalantly.
"Right now, purely annoyed. As for you, I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"Really?" His tone is amused as he cocks an eyebrow at me, furthering my growing irritation.
"Yep. Nothing." Taking a small step forward, I try to enhance my point, noticing my mistake immediately.
The last time we were this close, things didn't end well and I would be fucking hallucinating if I let that happen again. Still, I keep my composure.
Following me, he steps forward, a smirk slowly tugging at his lips. I swallowed, refusing to take a step back or show a sign of weakness right now. He released a short-lived chuckle at my discomfort. "Relax, Sweetheart. I am not going to jump you."
I fold my arms over my chest, his eyes glimpsing down at my movement. I snort at his assumption. "Don't worry. That isn't at all what I was worried about." Keep telling yourself that, Brinley.
It relieved me that a repeat of last night would not happen again until he mumbled beneath his breath. "Not until you ask me to, anyway."
I glare at him, but I can feel an aggravated blush heat my cheeks. "Actually, I do feel something for you. A powerful urge to punch you in the face right now. That sound pleasant?"
Malachi takes a step back, lowering himself back into his deck chair. He sits there like nothing just happened, gazing impassively at the view off of the balcony. He lets silence settle for a few beats."Question."
"I am leaving," I tell him, signaling my body to make two steps towards the door. It doesn't respond, staying glued to my current spot.
"You start a game, end it. That is just the rules," he fires back, leaving me to stand there, gaping at him.
"Well, the rules in this game have changed. I am leaving." I reach my hand out for the door handle, grabbing onto it.
Before I can pull it, he releases a sound that reveals his current displeasure. "Just fucking ask a question, Jones."
I grimace, my hand still holding onto the door handle. Not going to open it, but more like a vice for what I am about to ask. "Alright, deep question—"
"No deep questions." He is quick to interrupt.
I scoff, cocking an eyebrow at him despite his gaze not being anywhere near me. "You asked me to ask you a question. Well, I am asking you one. Now—"
Before I can finish, he stands from his deck chair. Malachi stands only inches from my face. "I said no deep questions. Whatever you were going to ask, forget it. You are not getting an ounce of my past or what goes on inside my head. I already have to bear that and can barely survive as is. I can't imagine what would happen if someone else knew. The truth hurts and there is no bigger truth than what has happened to me. So just- just forget it."
My hand drops from the door handle when he reaches out for it, swinging it open and slamming it behind him once he has left. I am frozen in place.
That, right there, has just proven any suspicions I had had about him earlier, wrong.
There is so much more to Malachi than meets the eye.
———
AUTHORS NOTE
HEYYY GUYS !! HOW ARE ALL OF YOU? I HAVE MISSED YOU ALL 🫶🏻
i have been on a break due to school and my mental health. right now, my mental health is better but school is still stressful so updates will still not be regular until school has calmed down :)
now that that is out of the way, i just want to thank you all for 20k reads on this book and 7k votes on something gained !! that absolutely blows my mind and i don't think you understand the impact all of you have on my life.
i love you guys so much and let's hope there is an update soon 🥰
lots of love,
rose x