CHAPTER 6
1408 Words
Chapter 6: Collision Course
The sun filtered gently through the studio’s high windows, casting a golden sheen on the mural that now stood complete. The vivid swathes of color danced across the wall, telling a story of harmony, creativity, and boundless potential. Aria stood in front of it with her arms folded, her face half-buried in the sleeve of her hoodie as she took in the final product.
It was done. Every brushstroke. Every moment of frustration and elation. Every late night, every spark of inspiration.
“It’s kind of surreal,” Lily murmured behind her, her eyes still glued to the mural. “We actually did it.”
“I’m still not sure if my legs have recovered from all the ladder climbing,” Mari said, stretching dramatically. “I feel like I aged five years this week.”
Aria laughed. “You mean five years in artist time? Because same.”
They stood there in silence for another beat, each girl lost in her thoughts—pride, disbelief, exhaustion, and beneath it all, a quiet thrill. Tomorrow would bring judgment and possible glory. But today…
Mari clapped her hands suddenly. “You know what we need?”
Lily raised an eyebrow. “A week-long nap?”
“No. A celebration. Drinks. Music. I want to toast to this ridiculous, beautiful monster we created.”
Aria smirked. “We do deserve a break.”
Lily perked up. “Actually… I know a bar.”
Both girls turned to her.
“A bar?” Mari echoed. “Since when do you know bars?”
Lily pushed her glasses up. “Since my older cousin dragged me to this little place downtown after she passed her bar exams. No pun intended.”
“Are we even allowed in?” Aria asked, biting back a smile.
“It’s casual. They’re lax about IDs if we don’t act stupid. And they have the best raspberry mojitos I’ve ever tasted.”
Mari was already grabbing her bag. “Say no more. I’m in.”
---
That Evening
The bar Lily had mentioned was nestled between a dusty antique bookstore and a tattoo parlor with neon flames dancing in its windows. It was small, dimly lit, and boasted rustic wood paneling, walls covered in old vinyls and gig posters, and booths deep enough to disappear into.
The three girls slipped inside, welcomed by the low thrum of jazz-infused lo-fi beats and the warm scent of whiskey and citrus.
Mari let out a low whistle. “Okay, nerd girl. Color me impressed.”
“I have layers,” Lily said with mock indignation. “Shall we?”
They took a booth near the back, tucked away under a flickering Edison bulb. The bartender—a woman with purple hair and an eyebrow ring—walked over and handed them menus.
“First round’s on me,” Mari declared. “This was my idea.”
“Deal,” Aria said. “Raspberry mojito sounds perfect.”
“Make that two,” Lily added.
Mari scanned the drink list with glee. “I’m feeling wild. Let’s try the Firecracker Mule.”
Within minutes, their drinks arrived—minty, fizzy, tart, and dangerous. Aria took her first sip and felt the tension that had built over the last few days begin to unravel.
“To the mural,” Mari said, raising her glass.
“To teamwork,” Lily added.
Aria smiled and lifted hers. “To us.”
They clinked glasses and drank.
Time blurred after that. Laughter flowed as easily as the cocktails. Mari did an exaggerated impression of Mr. Baldwin evaluating their mural, complete with pompous pacing and finger steepling. Lily told a hilariously awkward story about her first attempt at karaoke. Aria laughed until her stomach hurt.
By the time their third round arrived, Aria’s head was light, her words just slightly slurred, and the world had taken on a golden, buzzing warmth.
That’s when he walked in.
---
Cassian Blackwood stepped into the bar like he owned it.
Tall, sharply dressed in a tailored dark gray suit, and impossibly put together, he was an anomaly in the relaxed, artsy atmosphere. His presence shifted the energy in the room—subtle, but undeniable. Conversations quieted for a moment, heads turned. He didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.
Cassian’s gaze was cool and impassive as he made his way to the back, where a middle-aged man in a blazer stood to greet him. They shook hands and sat down in a private corner.
Aria didn’t notice him at first. She was busy trying to balance a lime wedge on the rim of her empty glass.
“Another one?” Lily asked, her voice teasing. “I think your liver’s filing for early retirement.”
Aria squinted at her. “I am celebrating our masterpiece, Lily. We literally might get our work featured in a national initiative. This is my reward. Raspberry-fizzed, lime-garnished glory.”
“I swear you’re a different person when you drink,” Mari muttered, sipping from her glass. “Funnier. Looser. Slightly dangerous.”
“Dangerous is my middle name,” Aria slurred.
She stood up a little too quickly. The room tilted.
“Whoa, hey,” Lily reached for her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Aria said, giggling. “Just gonna... walk it off.”
She moved toward the bar, trying to look casual, weaving slightly between tables.
And that’s when it happened.
Cassian had just stood to shake hands with his associate when Aria turned the corner near the bar. Her arm caught the edge of a stool, she stumbled forward—and collided straight into him.
His hands shot out instinctively, catching her before she could face-plant into the floor.
“Oof—” she gasped.
Cassian’s hands were firm against her shoulders, steadying her. Their eyes locked.
His were a piercing slate gray, sharp and observant.
Aria blinked. “Watch it, suit guy.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow.
“You should look where you’re going,” she said, brushing his hands off with exaggerated drama. “God, do they teach you corporate drones to bulldoze through people now?”
A beat of silence.
Cassian tilted his head, a slow smirk curving his lips. “You’re drunk.”
“Nooo,” she drawled sarcastically. “I’m just allergic to arrogance.”
Cassian chuckled, low and amused. “And here I thought this place had class.”
Aria scowled. “Excuse me—”
He stepped past her with a smooth motion, brushing her shoulder gently but firmly aside. “Good luck with that hangover,” he said without looking back.
Aria turned to respond, but he was already sliding back into his seat, murmuring something to the man across from him.
“Asshole,” she muttered, then spun on her heel and returned to the booth.
---
By the time they left the bar, the night had deepened into velvet darkness. Mari helped Lily settle the bill while Aria leaned against the doorframe, humming to herself.
“You okay?” Lily asked, slipping an arm around her waist.
“I’m awesome,” Aria said, flashing a woozy grin. “I just told off a walking briefcase.”
Mari laughed. “What?”
“Some guy. Looked like he escaped from a boardroom. I bumped into him and called him a corporate drone.”
“Oh god,” Lily said, “please don’t start fights with businessmen.”
“I didn’t fight. I commented. Strongly.”
They poured her into a cab and gave the driver her address.
---
Later That Night
Aria stumbled into her apartment, giggling at her own inability to get the keys into the lock.
When she finally got the door open, she kicked off her shoes and walked straight into the living room wall.
“Oops,” she muttered.
The apartment was dim and quiet, filled with the familiar smell of books and jasmine candles. She dropped her bag by the couch and made her way to her bedroom with the elegance of a pinball.
She flopped onto the bed fully dressed, the room spinning slightly around her. Her limbs felt like warm jelly, her eyelids heavy. Her head nestled into the pillow like it was made of clouds.
“Stupid briefcase guy,” she mumbled. “Smirking like he owns the universe…”
Sleep claimed her before she could finish the sentence.
- Writer
