Solstice Dreams

Two || Lights, Camera, Distraction

I wake up to a sound I don’t recognize.

Engines. Loud, rumbling, unnatural.

I sit up quickly, heart pounding. It isn’t the sound of fishing boats or the occasional supply run from the mainland. It’s something else—deeper, heavier, intrusive. I throw on a loose shirt and push open the shutters of my bedroom window. Outside, the village is already awake, people gathering along the shore.

I follow the pull of curiosity, my feet moving before my mind catches up. The sand is warm beneath my heels as I weave through the crowd, my pulse quickening. And then I see it.

A boat. Sleek, modern, nothing like the ones I grew up seeing. It slices through the water, leaving a foamy white trail in its wake. As it approaches, more details come into focus. People—too many of them. Strangers with expensive sunglasses and too-clean clothes. Some carry cameras and other equipment. Others gesture wildly, talking fast.

“They’re filming a movie,” Keilani whispers beside me, her voice thick with awe.

The words barely register before I see him.

Raphael Sinclair.

His face is impossible to mistake. It’s the kind of face that doesn’t belong in real life—sharp jawline, perfect cheekbones, dark hair tousled just enough to look effortless. I’ve seen it on posters, on magazines that tourists sometimes leave behind, and especially social media.

He steps off the boat, and for a second, the world tilts. Not because he’s famous, but because he looks at me.

It’s only a glance. A flicker of dark eyes behind expensive sunglasses. But it’s enough to send my stomach into freefall.

I force myself to look away, swallowing hard. It’s nothing. He’s probably just scanning the crowd, taking in the newness of this place the same way I’m taking in him.

The film crew spills onto the sand, setting up equipment, barking orders, laughing too loud. They’re an explosion of chaos in our quiet world. And Raphael is at the center of it, standing still as the storm swirls around him.

Then he moves. Not toward the crew, but toward me.

“You live here.” It’s not really a question. His voice is low, smooth, with a trace of something unreadable in it.

I nod. “Born and raised.”

Raphael studies me for a moment, his gaze steady but not invasive. There’s something in his eyes—something almost familiar. Like he’s searching for something, too.

“This place..it hasn’t changed much,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me.

The words make my skin prickle. “You’ve been here before?”

A slow pause. His lips curve slightly, but it’s not quite a smile. “A long time ago.”

I tilt my head, trying to read between the lines. “Why’d you come back?”

Raphael looks past me, out toward the horizon, his expression unreadable.

Before I can ask more questions, one of the crew members calls his name, breaking the moment. Raphael exhales, running a hand through his hair before glancing at me one last time.

I stand there, watching him go, my brain still processing what just happened.

“How did he know my name?!” I mutter, scratching my head in confusion.

A tap on my shoulder makes me jump. I whirl around to see Elias, grinning up at me like she just witnessed something straight out of a movie.

She points at my shirt. “Uh… your name tag?”

Oh. Right.

Milo butted in and smirks. “Yeah. And you just stood there like a statue.”

“I did not.”

I groan. “Great. My one interaction with a celebrity, and I looked like an idiot.” I added.

“You totally did. Like, full-on deer in headlights.” He waves a hand dramatically in front of my face. “Kai? Earth to Kai?”

I shove his arm away. “Shut up.” But I can’t stop myself from glancing back toward the crowd, half-expecting him to reappear. Of course, he doesn’t. He’s probably already halfway to his next appearance, shaking hands, flashing that movie-star smile at people.

Elias shrugs. “Eh, I think he thought it was cute.”

I blink. “What?”

He smirks. “Nothing.” Then he spins on his slippers and skips off, calling out, “I’m so telling Kei about this”

It’s been three days since the film crew arrived, and the whole town has been swept up in the excitement. Tourists have flooded in, but thankfully, they’re more interested in soaking up the buzz than interfering with the actual production. Business at the café has been booming—exhausting, but in a good way.

Now, it’s late at night, and the rush has finally died down. Most of the visitors have left, leaving only a few lingering crew members wrapping up their work under the artificial glow of the massive film lights. Their soft hum fills the open space, casting long shadows across the wooden beams of the café. The fresh night air rolls in from the ocean, crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of salt and roasted coffee.

Keilani stretches beside me. “Mom needs me to run an errand. You okay finishing up?”

I nod. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll close up.”

She smiles at me before heading off. I take a deep breath, finally able to enjoy the quiet after the rush of the day. The night is peaceful, the only sounds being the distant waves crashing against the shore and the occasional chatter of the film crew packing up.

As I wipe down one of the outdoor tables, I hear someone approach.

“You always work this hard, or are you just trying to impress me?”

He lets out a mock gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. “Wow. That was cold, Kai.”

I shake my head, amused, as he casually picks up a cloth and starts helping. It’s just like him to slide into my space like this, like it’s second nature.

“So,” he says, wiping down a chair next to mine, “how’s all this been for you? The crowd, the cameras, the Hollywood whirlwind invading Lil Solstice Island?”

I exhale, glancing toward the set in the distance. “It’s a lot. But kind of exciting, too. The energy, the people—it’s different, but in a good way.”

Leo nods, watching me a little too closely. “Yeah? Not too overwhelming?”

I shrug. “Not totally.”

Leo steps in closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he leans over to wipe down another chair. I’m painfully aware of his proximity, but I try to play it cool.

“You always handle things so well, huh?” His voice is a little softer now, and when I glance up, I find him looking at me with that trademark smirk. There’s something in his gaze, a playful glint that I can’t quite place.

I clear my throat, a bit flustered. “I try.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

I turn, startled, to see Raphael standing nearby.

I freeze for a moment. Raphael has this… aura about him. A quiet, mysterious confidence that makes him seem almost untouchable. It’s no wonder people admire him so much—no wonder the media is constantly chasing after him.

Even now, standing under the cool night sky with only the film crew’s artificial lighting casting long shadows over his sharp features, there’s an undeniable presence to him.

His gaze flicks between me and Leo, expression unreadable.

Leo leans back against the counter, completely at ease. “Nah, just having a moment.”

I shoot him a look “We were not having a moment.”

“I was just looking for some water bottles for the crew,” Raphael says, his voice low and smooth, carrying a subtle command.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure!” I answer, a little too eager, my cheeks still warm from the awkwardness. “I’ll grab them for you.”

When I return with the water bottles, I try to act more casual, though my nerves are still on edge. Raphael takes them with a quiet nod.

“Thanks, Kai,” he says, his voice softer now, almost… warmer.

“No problem,” I mutter, trying to sound normal despite my racing heart. “You must be exhausted from all that,” I gesture toward the film setting still visible on the beach, the lights and cameras starting to wind down for the night.

He shrugs, his movements slow, almost tired. “I’m used to it.”

I nod, feeling a bit awkward. “Yeah… I bet. Well, I better not keep you up, since it’s late,” I add, trying to keep things light.

“If there’s anything you need, you can let me know,” I added, my voice quieter now. “Or anyone else here. We’re all around.”

“Thanks, Kai. I appreciate it,” he says, and his eyes linger on mine for just a second longer than I expected.

I blink, feeling that strange tension in the air. “No problem… Mr. Sinclair,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

He grins, a slight curve of his lips. “Just call me Rafe.”

I nod, trying to shake off the sudden heat rising in my cheeks. “Rafe,” I repeat, softer this time.

I watch him walk away, carrying the bottles, the sound of his footsteps fading with every step.

Meanwhile, Leo watches the exchange with quiet amusement. “You know, you could have asked for an autograph, Kai,” he says with a playful grin, leaning closer to me again. “I’m sure Raphael would’ve been happy to oblige.”

I roll my eyes, heat rising in my cheeks. “Shut up, Leo.”