Just keep talking to Samuel, and everything will be alright. Keep your eyes on him and don't ever look behind you.
The words loop endlessly in my mind, a mantra meant to anchor me. A reminder of some sort. I've convinced myself that as long as I stay focused, as long as I don't glance over my shoulder at the person who feels like a living storm, I'll make it through the evening unscathed. Literally just keep talking to Samuel and all of this will pass.
Oh, the person in question? Emmett Larkin. The one and only. Like there's no one else in the room that I felt a strong sense of danger. He's dangerous for both my mental state as well as my emotional well-being.
I knew he was here the moment I stepped into the room, his presence impossible to ignore despite my best efforts. The moment I step foot into the room, it was like thunder striking down upon me, the electricity flowing in my veins as I do my best not to glance over. I don't need to see him to know where he is; it's like my senses are attuned to him in a way that makes no sense and drives me mad-crazy even. Still, I've been steadfast in my mission: avoid eye contact at all costs.
Well, mostly steadfast. Emphasis on the word, mostly.
A few times, something caught my attention, and I couldn't help but glance his way-accidentally locking eyes with the very person I'd sworn to avoid. Each time, I tore my gaze away, my heart racing as if I'd been caught doing something forbidden. And each time our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat and anxiety courses through my veins, pumping ever so fast before I could tore my gaze off from him again.
Luckily, the universe had saw my dilemma and gave me some sort of solution.
Thank God for Samuel.
I'd practically begged him to keep me engaged in conversation, anything to keep my mind off Emmett. It started as aimless small talk, but soon it turned into something deeper, more interesting-a lifeline I clung to. As long as I kept my attention away from Emmett, everything is all good.
"What do you mean you're unsure about Lilian?" I ask, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow at him.
Samuel hesitates, then offers a sheepish smile. "Don't make it sound like I'm about to break things off with her-"
"Break things off? Wait, hold up." My gasp is so dramatic I slap both hands over my mouth. "You're dating her?" My words come out muffled, but the shock in my voice is unmistakable.
Samuel shrugs, and I feel an uncontainable wave of excitement bubbling up. "Since when?" I demand, practically vibrating in place. "Oh my God, I can't believe that bitch didn't tell me anything."
He smirks, amused by my reaction. "Two weeks ago."
"Two weeks?" My voice is louder than I intend, drawing a few glances from nearby.
I risk a quick look over my shoulder, praying I haven't drawn Emmett's attention. Thankfully, he's still deep in conversation with Asher and Alecks. I exhale in relief. Crisis averted. For now, at least.
Turning back to Samuel, I shake my head in disbelief. "I can't believe she didn't tell me. I'm going to strangle her the next time I see her."
Samuel chuckles but quickly grows pensive, his playful demeanor giving way to something more serious. "Being with her is... fun. I've never met anyone who makes me feel so comfortable, except maybe Lance and the others." He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But lately, I've been second-guessing myself."
The shift in tone catches me off guard. "What do you mean?"
He lifts his head slowly, his hair falling forward as he flashes me a soft, almost hesitant smile. "It's like... I don't know. It feels like she's hiding something from me. Like there's this part of her she's keeping locked away."
I study his expression, trying to make sense of what he's saying. After a moment, it clicks. "You think she's keeping secrets?" I lean in closer, my voice dropping.
Samuel nods, then shakes his head as if trying to dismiss the thought. "It's just this feeling I get sometimes, you know? Like she's not telling me everything."
I rest a hand on his shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Don't overthink it. Whatever she's hiding, it's probably something she's trying to figure out for herself."
"But wouldn't it be better if she told me?" His eyes, wide and full of a childlike earnestness, meet mine.
I shake my head gently. "Lilian's not like that. She'll share when she's ready. But if you want my advice..."
He leans in slightly, his eyebrows lifting in curiosity.
"You don't really know someone until you talk to them at three in the morning," I say with a small smile. "When the world is quiet, and they finally let their guard down. Stay up late with her. Talk about life. She'll open up in her own way, and I promise you, she'll appreciate that."
Samuel blinks a few times before a slow grin spreads across his face. "You really think that'll work?"
A soft laugh escapes me. "Are you doubting me? I dated her. Trust me, it'll work."
He chuckles, leaning back slightly. "Alright, alright. I trust you."
Before I can respond, his gaze flickers over my shoulder. His smile turns sly. "And I trust you'll be alright for a few minutes."
I frown, confused, until I follow his gaze-and see Emmett.
He's walking toward us, his expression unreadable but his eyes fixed firmly on mine.
"Good luck, Phoebe," Samuel murmurs, his voice low and teasing, before stepping away.
"Wait-" I reach for him, but he's gone, leaving me to face Emmett alone.
I turn back just in time to see a slow, deliberate smile forming on Emmett's lips. My breath catches in my throat.
Oh, please have mercy on me.
"Hey," he muttered softly as he stopped just a foot away.
It felt closer. He felt closer—his presence overwhelming, like the air between us had disappeared. The air in my lungs is all the is left to keep me upright. My mind immediately conjured the illusion of his breath brushing against me, even though I knew better. He isn't close. I just feel like he's close. And that alone made me feel nervous. His effects he have towards me.
“Earth to Phoebe?” His voice, calm yet teasing, cut through the fog in my head.
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring blankly and hadn't heard him at all. Shaking off the haze, I raised an eyebrow at him. “I'm sorry, what?”
“I said, hey.” This time, his smirk stretched into an easy grin, one that somehow made it worse. I was all fine seeing his smirk, but this grin of his is the most dangerous of them all.
“Oh, hi,” I replied, flashing him a sheepish smile. My hand automatically moved to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Great start, Phoebe, truly flawless. Just wing it from here. I thought to myself before blowing out a silent breath out or my lips.
“Did you just get here? I didn’t notice you when I came in.”
His brow arched. “Are we seriously playing this game? Pretending not to notice each other?”
Damn it! He did saw me sneaking a glance at him. Here I thought I was sleek and sneaky from it. Well, there's no point of pretending anymore.
I sighed softly, giving in. “Okay, fine. You caught me.” Closing my eyes briefly, I willed myself to find some composure. The last thing I needed was to make the tension between us even worse. “What’s up?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
For a moment, he just stared at me, his gaze piercing in a way that made my veins feel electric. My muscles itched to move under the intensity of it. I want to move, but I can't at the same time. I want to breath but it's getting harder to do it when he's this close to me.
“Can we talk?” he asked finally.
“Sure, we can sit on the cou—”
“Somewhere private,” he interrupted.
“Oh.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.
A swirl of emotions collided in my chest. Excitement? Maybe. Anxiety? Definitely. Fear? Most probably. Was this finally the moment we’d address the tension between us—the huge gray elephant that's in the fucking room with us? Or was this conversation about to take a turn I wasn’t ready for?
Either way, I knew I couldn’t back out now. This has to happen. For the sake of my mental and emotional being. I'm a psychology major, damn it, they thought us about the importance of mental state. And here I am trying to figure out how to sabotage it.
I shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Sure. But where?” My gaze swept the room, looking for a spot we could talk. A bathroom? No. That’d be weird. The urinal is inches away from us and we're casually having a conversation.
Emmett smiled faintly and held out his hand. “Just follow me.”
I hesitated, staring at his hand as conflict bubbled in my mind. But in the end, I caved, placing my hand in his. The second our skin touched, a jolt of something sharp and exhilarating zipped through me, leaving me unsteady.
Before I could ask where we were going, he gently tugged me toward the door. When I said gently, I meant that I nearly lost my balance.
“Where are you two headed?” Lance’s voice cut through the air, pulling our attention. He stood nearby with Samuel, both of them eyeing us curiously.
Emmett didn’t miss a beat. “Just need to talk. Privately.”
As if summoned, the door swung open, revealing Alecks carrying two bags of chips. “What’s going on?” he asked, his gaze bouncing between us.
“Taking Phoebe to the rooftop,” Emmett replied, brushing past him with a calm certainty. He turns back to Samuel and Lance, "Is it okay to go to the roof top?"
Samuel and Lance exchanged looks but shrugged in unison. “The rooftop’s for everyone,” Samuel said, clearly amused.
“Great,” Emmett muttered, guiding me through the door as Alecks and Asher stepped aside.
“You two have fun!” Asher called after us, his grin audible in his voice.
“But not too much fun,” Alecks added, his voice fading as we disappeared down the hallway.
“I can walk, you know,” I said, feeling slightly annoyed as Emmett kept pulling me like I was luggage.
He stopped at the elevator and turned to face me, an unapologetic grin spreading across his face. “Oh, right. You do have legs. My bad.”
I rolled my eyes and tugged my hand free. “What’s so urgent that you had to drag me out here?”
The elevator dinged open, revealing an empty car. Emmett stepped aside and gestured for me to enter first.
“Since when are you a gentleman?” I muttered as I stepped inside.
“Since always,” he shot back, hitting the button for the roof deck. He turned to face me, his grin somehow wider, brighter.
“What?” I asked, unable to hide the nervous edge in my voice. His grin always meant trouble, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for whatever he had planned.
“Nothing,” he said, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s just funny, seeing you out on a Sunday night. Phoebe Summers, social butterfly—who would’ve thought?”
I punched his arm lightly. “If you brought me up here just to be mean to me, I swear I’ll push you off the edge.”
He laughed, flinching dramatically before the elevator doors slid open.
The sight of the rooftop stole my breath. The dark sky stretched endlessly above, scattered with faint stars peeking through the moving clouds. A gentle breeze kissed my skin, carrying with it the faint hum of city life below.
“Wow,” I murmured, stepping out into the open space. My smile widened as I tilted my head back to take in the sky. The moon’s pale light was soft, flickering as wispy clouds passed over it.
Behind me, I could feel Emmett watching.
And for the first time tonight, the tension didn’t feel suffocating. It felt like... something else entirely.
"So, how’s life treating you lately?” Emmett’s voice was soft, casual, but it carried the weight of something unsaid. I felt him move closer behind me.
I didn’t turn. I didn’t flinch. Instead, I kept walking toward the edge of the rooftop, resting my elbows on the half-wall that separated us from the sprawling city below. A small smile forms on my face as I felt closer and closer to the edge. The cold night wind swept my hair around, temporarily removing all my worries that's running around my head.
“Life’s been... good,” I replied, my tone light but deceptive. Except for the nights when I wake up with tears on my pillow because of the constant dreams I kept having about him. And I'm not just going to admit that to him. “How about you?” I asked, turning slightly to glance at him as he joined me at the barrier.
He leaned forward, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’d be lying if I said it was all smooth sailing.” A short laugh escaped him as he shook his head. “But for the sake of conversation, let’s just say... all is good.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, slipping into the noise of the city below. “Okay, so we’re both lying?” I teased, shaking my head, a smile still lingering on my lips. “But seriously—how are you, really?”
He turned to face me, his expression softening. “I’ve been thinking about the Battle of the Bands,” he murmured, almost as if confessing a secret.
Instantly, my chest tightened, a heaviness settling there. I’d hoped this talk would distract me from the bittersweet truth of my time here running out, but clearly, I was wrong.
“What about it?” I asked, carefully masking the ache in my voice. I tipped my head back, staring at the night sky, its endless expanse offering a temporary escape.
“I’m nervous,” he admitted, so quietly I barely caught it.
That startled me. My head snapped down, and I turned to him. “Why are you nervous?” A flicker of hope sparked within me, only to be doused by the cynic in me.
Don’t expect anything. You’ll only hurt yourself.
A bitter chuckle left his lips. “I think it’s time I told you about my past.”
I blinked, surprised by the shift in tone. “Will you tell me?” I asked softly, letting him decide. I didn’t want him to feel cornered. If he wanted to share, I’d listen. If not, I’d understand.
He hesitated, staring at me for a moment before his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile. “You ever meet someone who just... broke you? Someone who stole your confidence and crushed every ounce of belief you had in yourself?” He paused, turning away. “Well, I did. Someone I cared about.”
I stayed silent, sensing he needed the space to let it out.
“Her name was Loraine,” he said at last, a faint, sad smile playing on his lips. "My ex-girlfriend."
“Oh,” I murmured. “What... happened?”
His hands clenched into fists, the tension radiating from him. But then he relaxed, exhaling deeply, as if releasing the weight of it all.
“She made me believe everything was possible,” he began, his voice laced with equal parts bitterness and reverence. “She was kind, supportive, and... amazing—or at least, that’s what I thought.” All those compliments doesn't fit the way he says them. His laugh was harsh, almost mocking. “Turns out, it was all a lie.”
I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?” I ask, tilting my head to the side to try to catch a glimpse of the emotions swirling inside his eyes.
“She had a boyfriend,” he said flatly, his voice colder now. “The whole time we were together, she was with someone else. And when he found out, she lied to him—said she didn’t know me, said I was nothing. A fucking nobody.”
The sheer cruelty of it hit me like a punch to the gut. “What the fuck?” I accidentally blurted out, unable to contain my disbelief. "She's a bitch." I add. Might as well say it since I think we both are thinking the same thing.
Emmett let out a dry laugh, one that sounded lighter this time. “Right? Alecks said the same thing when he found out.” His laughter faded, and his expression grew serious again. “After that, I lost my confidence. She used to fuel it, you know? Made me feel like I could take on anything. And then, with just a few words, she took it all away.” He sighed, staring out into the night. “Fuck, love, huh? What a joke.”
The sting in my chest was immediate, sharp, and unrelenting. Hearing him joke about love—when I was standing here, trying so hard not to fall for him—felt like a cruel twist of fate. More like a twist of a fucking knife through my chest.
Ha ha, don't you fucking cry now, Phoebe Summers.
But I pushed the ache aside and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know,” I said gently, “Love didn’t hurt you. Someone who didn’t know how to love you hurt you. Don’t confuse the two.”
He turned to me, his eyes wide, a flicker of something—amusement, maybe admiration—dancing there.
“And as for the broken pride,” I continued, a grin tugging at my lips as he rolled his eyes, “Don’t let the past rob you of the future. You’re an amazing musician, Emmett. The way you juggle everything—music, academics—is admirable.”
For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread across his face.
“Thanks, Phoebe,” he said softly, and for the first time that night, his voice was free of bitterness.
I simply smiled, unsure what to say next without putting my emotions at risk. His voice was soft, weaving its way to the fragile corners of my heart. One more word like that, and I feared I might shatter into a million pieces, right here, under the weight of his gaze.
Thankfully, the bastard couldn’t keep his charm on for too long. True to form, he broke the moment with a smirk and words that had me instantly itching to smack him.
“Since when did the great Phoebe Summers become a fountain of wisdom?” His lips curled into that insufferably smug grin.
“Since this evening, apparently,” I muttered, still trying to swat the smugness off his face.
He was quick, though, stepping back before I could make contact. “Is that all you’ve got?” he teased, dodging effortlessly.
After several attempts, he finally caught my wrists, holding them firmly. His smile softened as his gaze locked onto mine. Beneath the moonlight, his eyes held a twinkle that made the moment feel dreamlike, surreal.
But the gentle pressure of his hands grounding mine was unmistakably real.
“You’re not so bad without your murder weapon,” he chuckled before letting me go.
“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I didn’t bring my notebook,” I retorted, pouting. “I would’ve bashed your head in multiple times by now.”
His laughter erupted, loud and genuine, bouncing off the walls around us and out into the open air. It was infectious, making it impossible not to smile.
“The night’s still young, you know,” he said suddenly, his tone quieter but full of suggestion. Tilting his head back, he stared at the dark sky as if drawing strength from the stars. Then his gaze fell back to me, his lips curling ever so slightly. “How about you?”
I blinked at him. “What about me?” I asked, feigning ignorance even though I had a sinking feeling about where this was going.
“Oh, come on. You know what I’m talking about,” he pressed, shaking his head. “How’s life been treating you? How are you feeling?”
The truth hovered at the edge of my lips: Well, the casual fact that you keep showing up in my dreams and real life is making it really hard to differentiate between the two, and I’m starting to think I might actually be falling for you.
But I swallowed the words, locking them away where they couldn’t escape. Instead, I leaned forward against the half-wall, letting my eyes trace the horizon across the rooftops.
“What do you want to know?” I deflected, my voice steady, though my heart was far from it.
“Everything,” he said softly. “Like why you’re so academically focused… and why you looked sad that day at the cat café.”
That snapped my head around, and I stared at him, confused. “What?”
“That time,” he began slowly, his tone careful, as if testing the waters. “There was a little girl with her mom. You looked… off. Like something crossed your mind that wrecked you.”
He’d noticed.
“You still remember that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. Seeing you like that, not the cheerful Phoebe Summers I’m used to—it was weird.”
It’s all he’s been thinking about.
His words hit me like a wrecking ball, crashing through walls I hadn’t realized were crumbling. And that’s when it struck me, a truth so sudden and overwhelming it left me breathless.
I’d already fallen for him.