2 | Exposed ( ETHAN DOLAN )

TWENTY

E X P O S E D
C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y

THE twenty five minute car journey consisted mostly of Ethan gazing out of the car window with his mouth hanging wide open as San Francisco streets dashed by. Despite having been here before a year earlier, he still found the city to be remarkably magical, and memories of being on tour with his twin brother made him overwhelmed with nostalgia.

Veronica had tried to speak up and at least make small talk with the pair. "How was L.A.?" she had asked.

Andrea only shot it down with a "fine," and carried on scrolling through Instagram.

The quiet music that flowed from the radio made the situation slightly less awkward, but only slightly.

Before Ethan knew it, they had up to a gorgeous, Victorian, three story, house that looked as if it was straight out of a Hollywood movie. It was the typical San Francisco home situated on an uphill road just outside the city.

Ethan's mouth dropped— not only because he was impressed and in awe at the beauty of the house, but again, he had failed to mentally prepare himself and assure himself that everything was going to be fine. Now his hands were clammier than ever, and there was no way he was going to be able to have a conversation with someone if the beating of his heart in his ears was louder than any other sound.

Andrea was about to help Ethan with his bags, but he beat her to it and lifted his bags from the trunk and Andrea's too, which had her smiling like a fool. She went to take her luggage off him, but he refused and only made a face of 'show me the way'. Knowing there was no point in arguing, Andrea turned on her heel and led him to her home.

The sound of the rustling of the door was like an alarm for Andrea's parents, who came dashing to the front hall to meet her.

"Hello," her mom cried out, her body colliding with her daughter's as she enveloped Andrea in a tight hug.

"Alright, mom, it's only been a week," Andrea chuckled, but hugged the thin woman back nevertheless. She had missed her overdramatic ways.

Ethan had gently placed the bags on the floor, watching Andrea and her mom with a warm smile. Her mom appeared quite young, and Andrea was almost a clone of her. Their dark hair, pale skin and light brown eyes all matched.

Andrea then moved on to her stepmom, a tall, lanky woman with soft, kind features. Ethan felt relaxed. They were all smiles, the complete opposite of intimidating, which, for some reason, Ethan was expecting. It was stupid, now that he thought about it. Perhaps it was simply the concept of meeting people that meant so much to Andrea, someone that meant so much to him, that frightened him.

"Mom, Erica, this is Ethan," Andrea said, taking her place beside him.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Russett, Erica," Ethan greeted, shaking their respective hands gently.

"No need for the formalities, Ethan," Andrea's mom chuckled. "I'm Kristen. So, Andrea has been raving about you, did you know that? And I can see why. You're very handsome."

"Oh, thank you," Ethan laughed weakly, cursing his timidness for causing his face to burn up.

"Mom. . ." Andrea groaned, but there was no point in denying it. Ethan was worth raving about.

"Andrea, why don't you get him settled into the spare room? Well, I assume you'll want to sleep separately, right?" Kristen questioned. She seemed open to the idea of the pair sleeping together, but they quickly brushed it away.

"Yeah, of course," Andrea told her, and Ethan nodded frantically in agreement. Andrea glanced at him, and he shot her a reassuring look. Perhaps their routine would stay the same– Ethan would stay with her until she dozed off and he'd return to his own space.

Ethan followed the girl up a marble staircase and straight down a hallway until they entered a practically bare room, which was quite obviously a spare room with plain, light grey walls. It contained nothing but a double bed on which a crocheted throw was draped on, a small lamp on a wooden bedside table, a small flatscreen TV mounted on the wall in front of the bed and a small potted palm plant in the far corner of the room. Ethan had noticed that, compared to the exterior, everything inside the house was modern and contemporary.

"So, this is your room," Andrea said, giggling in hopes that no awkwardness would arise. She made her way towards two closed doors.

"This is your en suite, and this is your closet," she explained, opening each door to show him.

"It's nice," Ethan replied, laying his bags on the bed and walking towards the window, where a breathtaking view of the city awaited to be watched by him. "Gosh. . ." he whispered.

Andrea was standing next to him. She saw the city every day. It was no longer the most spectacular sight. Of course, she never really got completely bored of it, but it didn't compare to the sight of Ethan's gleaming eyes as he gazed at the concrete jungle just a few miles away. He looked so beautiful, even while doing nothing but observing. His lips were parted just a sliver in awe, and his dark eyebrows were raised only slightly.

"Beautiful, huh?" Andrea asked, watching him with a fondness that a curious child would have watching anything remotely exciting

"Not as beautiful as you," Ethan responded, turning to her with a smirk on his lips so cheesy that it made Andrea roll her eyes.

"I don't know if I should be embarrassed for you or flattered, Mr. Cliché."

"Oh, no, please don't bring that back."

"Too late. Your fault for saying that."

"What? I'm not allowed to tell you you're beautiful?"

"Not like that, nope."

The pair's playful arguing was interrupted when a knock sounded on the door. Veronica didn't bother to wait for either of them to reply. She only opened the door and stepped inside quietly.

"Veronica. . . Can we help you?" Andrea asked, a small frown taking over her face.

"Would you guys, maybe, like to talk over breakfast?"