Chapter Five : Hitting it off!
1950 Words
Tonight was the night Ariana had been waiting for all week.
She hadn’t taken care of herself in a long time. So she turned the evening into a ritual—scrubbing her skin, oiling and massaging every inch of her body until her muscles finally loosened. Before the oil, she lit therapeutic candles and dimmed the lights of her apartment. The air warmed with soft flickers of amber. Music drifted from her speaker—slow and calming, the kind that sounded like old folks singing in a quiet village. She turned on the projector, letting animated mountains and drifting clouds spill across the wall.
Two hours slipped by without her noticing.
When she was done, she smoothed lotion over her skin and got dressed. Her body felt light, almost unfamiliar in its calm.
Now, dinner.
Ugh. She was too lazy to go out. Too tired to cook.
Ordering, then?
She slid her phone screen open and scrolled through delivery apps when Willy’s message suddenly popped up.
She sighed and opened it.
First message:
The new in-house magazine of your team has been sent to our house.
Second message:
I read all of them.
Then another one followed.
Tina said your brand would be involved in a Mega Project. What is that? Fashion week?
Ariana exhaled slowly and typed, lazily,
What is it you want to know?
Every time Willy messaged her, she felt like she was caught in a small whirlwind. Her brother was too clingy. She hated it—yet, somehow, she liked it. Willy was the only family who let her open up as much as she wanted. The only one who listened to all her rambling.
Their mother had passed away when Ariana was five, leaving her with three-year-old Willy. Their father remarried soon after. They lived with their stepmother, Lily, until Ariana turned fifteen, when she decided to move out with Willy. Boarding school felt easier than staying in a house that never quite felt like home, even though Lily treated them kindly. Lily still checked on them even after they moved far away.
Now they were young adults, living separately.
Ariana lived in Kapuk, a fast-paced metropolitan city where everything moved too quickly for feelings to keep up. Willy lived three hours away by car, in Carasico—a city of classic buildings and quiet streets. He ran a small business there.
Whenever Willy sensed something was wrong, he would drive all the way to Kapuk without warning. Sometimes it annoyed Ariana to no end. She knew he worried because of her self-harming tendencies during her quarter-life crisis. His sudden visits irritated her—but deep down, she was grateful for them.
Nothing, he replied.
Another message came in.
Just wanted you to be careful. The trend now is using Mega Stars in fashion shows.
Ariana frowned.
What do you mean?
You know—brands endorsing celebrities to wear their products at shootings, fan meetings, shows, concerts, movies, all that.
Ariana giggled at her screen.
I’m about to do that. We signed with a mega star you ought to know!
WHO?
She could almost hear her brother’s excitement through the screen. Then another message appeared.
Well, I don’t care. It must be a secret. I’d rather know when I see them in real life.
At least he was maturing. Everything had to stay confidential until the project—and the band’s tour dates—were officially launched. Then a longer message came in, more like a paragraph.
What I mean is, you have to be careful. Working with mega stars is really challenging. Either you or they might break professional rules. I’ve seen your articles—scandals involving big celebrities. All I want is your happiness, Sister. I love you!
Goosebumps ran along her arms.
The last sentence made her cringe.
She typed back,
OK.
For a moment, she forgot what she was about to do. She tugged at her hair.
What the hell, Willy…
Then her stomach growled.
Right. Dinner.
Now she was too lazy even to order. What if she just skipped it?
But then she remembered Aston asking her out for dinner earlier that afternoon. Her body jolted in irritation, sarcasm bubbling up inside her.
Of course I have to eat. How sweet of him!
She grabbed a mask—her face had just been cleaned, and she didn’t want it to get dirty. The lotion on her skin hadn’t dried yet, so she threw on a jacket, pulled a cap over her hair, and slipped into her sandals. She locked the door and took the elevator down.
Instead of the usual store, she headed toward the luxurious neighborhood nearby. The convenience store there had better food—more variety, more tempting options. Near midnight, everything went on discount. High-quality meals, cheaper prices.
It took her only five minutes to walk there.
____________
Ariana picked a bento, apple juice, and a small box of cut fruit. After reheating the bento, she took a seat in the corner of the indoor eating area, where the lights were softer and the noise faded into a distant hum. Steam curled from the plastic lid as she peeled it open. The smell of warm rice made her realize how hungry she actually was.
She scrolled through her favorite social media while eating.
A headline caught her eye.
Was that about Aston?
She clicked.
Of course it was a scandal. He already had one—again. She wasn’t even surprised. Celebrities collected scandals the way ordinary people collected bad days. Still, curiosity slipped in.
She typed God’s Ark into the search bar. Articles flooded her screen.
God’s Ark: Modern Rock Sensation, Local Pop Stars Going Worldwide
God’s Ark Just Wrapped Up Their Stadium Tour
New Album Launch Expected Anytime Soon
She kept scrolling until she reached the newest article—posted two hours ago. Ariana shook her head and almost laughed. It reminded her of her conversation with Willy.
What if the girl in the article was her?
What if, one day, her name appeared in headlines like that?
The thought made her giggle—until she noticed the media outlet.
NN News.
Oh. That one. The trashy one that loved exaggeration and half-truths. Anyone who cared about credibility ignored them. Still, her imagination had already run wild, and she smiled into her juice carton.
“Ariana?”
She nearly choked by sudden greetings.
“I’m sorry,” the man said quickly. It was Aston. He looked relieved. “I saw you from behind and thought I was mistaken. I wasn’t sure, so I tried. It really is you. Are you okay?”
Ariana coughed, struggling to breathe as he patted her back.
“Keep… your… hands off,” she wheezed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Aston said, pulling back immediately.
She took a few sips of water, then slipped her mask back on. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” Aston frowned. “I live here. Remember?” He sat down near her, cracked open a can of beer, and took a sip. “Looks like you’re having dinner.”
Right.
She’d forgotten.
If she came to this building, there was always a chance she’d run into Aston. And that was the very last thing she wanted tonight.
“Well, yes,” Ariana replied.
She glanced at him, trying to read his expression. Was that worry? Or… sadness?
“I don’t know how this sounds,” Aston said quietly, “but I really hope you eat better than this. Should I make you something?”
“Sorry?”
“Come to my place. I can cook for you.” He smiled, a little too casually.
Ah. This guy.
Did he seriously think she would go to his place just because he offered food?
“Cook? Then what?” Ariana challenged him.
“And don’t you think you shouldn’t drink after running?” she added, quickly shifting the topic.
“Eat,” he said, shrugging.
“Then?”
“Then what? You go home.” He shrugged again. “What else do you want? Me?”
Heat rushed up her neck, blooming across her face. Her ears burned.
“I didn’t mean that,” she snapped. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Aston snorted, almost laughing. “You started it.” He took another sip of beer, amused.
“Anyway,” Ariana said, forcing her tone back to neutral, “you really shouldn’t drink after running.”
“I feel like it,” he replied lightly.
“And don’t you think you shouldn’t be here?” she asked. “With me?”
“Why?” Aston glanced at her phone screen—and froze. “So. You saw them.”
This is exactly why I can’t have a social life.
Why I can’t get to know people like normal humans.
The scream stayed inside his head. Silence settled between them.
For ten minutes, neither of them spoke. Aston sipped his beer. Ariana finished her food, her eyes flicking toward the glass walls and the garden outside. Her chest tightened at the thought of paparazzi lurking beyond the gates. If Willy found out, he’d nag her for life about quitting this job.
“Don’t worry,” Aston said suddenly, staring at the dark garden. “They can’t get in here… if that’s what you’re worried about. The paparazzi.”
Ariana exhaled, relief loosening her shoulders. Of course. Luxurious places were built differently. For the first time, she felt a twinge of sympathy for him.
“So,” Aston said. “Where are you going after this?”
“Home,” Ariana replied. She wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Sure,” he said.
Silence again.
Ten more minutes passed, heavy and awkward.
“Will you show up to work tomorrow?” Aston asked.
“Of course.” Ariana frowned. “Why?”
“Will you come here again tomorrow evening?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Why?”
“Forget it,” Aston muttered. “I think I drank too much.” He stood. “It’s late. Want me to walk you home?”
“No. I’m good.”
She stood up, threw away her trash, and gathered her things.
“Which unit do you live in?” Aston asked.
“Guess,” she said, almost laughing. “Obviously not in this area. I can’t afford this place.”
“That building?” He pointed across the complex.
“Yeah. Nearby.”
He hesitated. “If you think your place is shabby, you can live with me. Anytime.”
Ariana laughed. He was definitely drunk now.
She left before he could say anything else, making sure he wasn’t following her. Then she turned toward her building, hurried into the lobby, and jumped into the elevator the moment it arrived.
Hurry. I don’t want him following me.
I hate drunk people.
She reached her apartment, locked the door, and finally relaxed. She slipped off her jacket, tossed her cap aside, and threw her mask into the trash. The air conditioner cooled her overheated skin. She was sweating—she’d practically run all the way up.
Sticky skin after a full body scrub.
Disgusting.
“Shabby?” she muttered.
She flopped onto the sofa, her eyes wandering around the room.
Actually, this apartment was nice. She loved the wide windows and the way her curtains framed the city lights at night. The place faced east; the view was beautiful. She had a balcony. A bathtub.
Her home was warm. Real.
Still…
I wonder what those luxurious apartments look like inside.
____
- Writer
