Music Recommendation: Not About Angels by Birdy.
...…
Absent minded, Rielle glanced through the file given to her. Sighing softly, she stacked it back with the others, and threw her head over her seat in deep thoughts.
Hours ago, things were wild. She had almost kissed Xander. She almost kissed a man she knew nothing about. What if he was a serial killer or something?
Her head swirled with a thousand unanswered questions. Her head throbbed with too many thoughts, and it left her exhausted.
"Sister," Aiden's voice distracted her, as he unexpectedly walked in. "You're the sister I never had, so don't look so disgusted,"
He added the last line when she glared at him.
She scoffed. "Don't you have a game company to take care of?"
Aiden flopped into the chair opposite her like he owned the place, as he tossed a granola bar onto the table. "Tried. But the dev team's arguing about whether a sword should glow blue or violet. So I left before I committed war crimes."
Rielle snorted despite herself.
"You look... scrambled," he said, scanning her face. "Like someone who went skinny-dipping in emotional quicksand."
She groaned and rubbed her temples. "I didn't kiss him."
"Oh," Aiden blinked, intrigued. "But you almost did."
If there was anyone who could guess her with just a glance, it was Aiden. All it took for him was less than six months. Meanwhile, the people she spent her whole life with didn't care.
She tossed a pen at him. He ducked, laughing. She smiled at him, when she heard him laugh. He definitely knows who she spoke of almost kissing.
Rielle stood and paced, she folded her arms tightly across her chest. "I mean… I don't even know who he is. He shows up like a storm, ruins my mental weather forecast, and disappears like some gothic ghost with perfect cheekbones."
Aiden hummed. "I feel like this is your way of saying you're into him."
"I feel like this is your way of saying you're too nosy." She fired back immediately.
"Touché," he grinned, unwrapping the granola bar. "Anyway, I came to make sure you're still going to the gala with me. I even ordered the corsage."
She paused mid-step. "Aiden. No."
He eyed her playfully in a dramatic disbelief. "What? It's black with thorns. Very you."
"I'm not going to the gala as your fake date."
"Why not? We could cause an entire media scandal. I already have a backup scandal outfit."
Rielle rolled her eyes, but her voice dropped an octave. "Tell me about Xander."
Aiden blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You want me to go with you tomorrow?" she said, arms crossed now like armor. "Fine. I'll go. But—you give me answers."
"What kind of answers?"
"The kind that makes the emotional tornado make sense. Who is he, really? Why does he act like I matter one minute and vanish the next? And why—" she hesitated, "—why does he look at me like he already knows me?"
Aiden tilted his head, chewing slowly. Then he held out a pinky finger.
Rielle raised a brow. "What is that?"
"Pinky swear. You come to the gala, and I'll give you what you want. But fair warning, Rae," he chuckled, "some truths come wrapped in barbed wire."
She looked at his hand for a long beat. Then, with a sigh, she hooked her pinky around his.
"Fine. But I'm not wearing anything sparkly."
"You say that now," he smirked. "Wait till you see the heels I picked out for you."
She groaned again and threw another pen at him. Deep inside, under all her sarcasm and stubbornness, something stirred.
Answers. She was finally going to get answers.
Or maybe, just maybe more questions in better packaging. She groaned and rubbed her hand over her forehead.
Rielle took a slow breath as she sat back down, her eyes never leaving Aiden's face. "Okay. First question."
Aiden rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly less smug. "You're really holding me to this, huh?"
"You pinky-swore. That's basically a sacred blood pact."
He gave a short laugh. "Alright. Just… don't quote me on anything that ends up in a therapy session."
She nodded. "Tell me about Xander."
Aiden leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, with his eyes distant now, he parted his lips. "When we were kids, Xander was… different. But in a good way. Loud. Laugh-out-loud funny. Always doing impressions of our teachers, annoying the nannies, trying to fly off rooftops with cardboard wings and stuff like that."
Rielle blinked. That didn't sound like the man who walked around like he'd been carved out of ancient marble and cold secrets.
"He was confident. Always the one leading the games, charming the adults, making the rest of us feel like we were side characters in his story. And then…. And then he turned nine."
Aiden's jaw tensed slightly, like he wasn't even aware of it. His voice turned lower than it was. Like he missed what he was about to talk about.
"That's when everything… stopped. He didn't laugh anymore. He stopped talking so much. He still smiled, but it wasn't the same. Something shifted, and the rest of us just... watched him become a locked door."
Rielle's brow furrowed. "What happened?"
Aiden looked at her. "No one knows. Or maybe someone does, but they're not talking. Believe me, I've tried."
She sat back, trying to match that version of Xander—the playful child—with the magnetic enigma she'd almost kissed. "So he just woke up one day and decided to shut everyone out?"
"Not exactly. It was subtle. Like a storm cloud that rolled in and never left." He sighed. "Even now, I don't think anyone really understands him. He's smart, strategic, always ten moves ahead. But emotionally? He's a complete riddle. Maybe even to himself."
Rielle was silent for a while. "And you can't tell me more?" she didn't try to push it.
Aiden gave her a rueful smile. "I meant what I said, Rae. That's all I know. You want more? You'll have to ask the man behind the shadows yourself."
She folded her arms, frowning thoughtfully. "Right. Because nothing says trustworthy like a guy who disappears after almost kissing you."
Aiden stood, tossing his empty granola wrapper into the bin. "Well, at least now you've got a reason to go to the gala."
She gave him a flat look. "You really planned this whole emotional ambush just to guilt-trip me into going?"
He winked. "I like to think of it as strategic manipulation. Xander would be proud."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she looked out the window, her mind spiraling with a thousand more questions and one haunting image she couldn't seem to shake.
The way Xander had looked at her. Like he'd seen her before. Like he remembered her from somewhere she'd forgotten.
Also, what's with the gloves? Why doesn't he take them off?