Nova’s POV
For the first ti in a long ti, I felt... light. Carefree, even. It was as if the world, heavy with its expectations and worries, had quietly released its grip on ; and in return for every struggle, every sleepless night, the universe had sent sothing—or rather, soone. His na? Eldur.
The mont Eldur and I returned from that job hunting trip, everything had changed. The tight knot in my chest unraveled when I got the job at Prologue Pages, and though Eldur didn’t say it outright, I knew, without a doubt, he had sothing to do with it.
That grumpy old man, the one who barely looked up from his crossword puzzle when I walked in, had suddenly beco the picture of enthusiasm the mont Eldur flashed him that eerie, slightly terrifying smile of his. The way the old man’s attitude had done a complete 180 made it painfully clear that Eldur had pulled so unseen strings behind the scenes. I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad about it. Because for once, it felt good to be on the receiving end of soone’s influence.
I wasn’t exactly sure what had changed, but sothing in had. Maybe it was the job. Maybe it was just having Eldur by my side, his unpredictable and bizarre ways sohow making everything feel like it would be okay. Maybe it was just... being seen in a way I hadn’t been in a long ti. But for the first ti in forever, I felt like I could breathe without fear of the world choking .
I had a job. I could finally contribute, it all felt like I was finally getting my life together. Eldur made it possible. Even before we got into the sa school, he was always looming in the background, always sohow making things easier for . I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be slightly terrified by how much he could make things bend to his will. In anyway, I was grateful.
********
I hadn’t expected the party to be so... well, loud. The kind of loud that vibrates your chest and makes your head feel like it’s stuffed with cotton. Ember & Ash wasn’t the worst place, don’t get wrong. But it felt like every person there had sothing to prove. The thumping music, the flashing lights—it all seed so frantic, so... desperate. So unnatural.
Lara, of course, was in her elent. She was practically glowing, her sequins catching every bit of light as if she was the party’s star attraction. She didn’t get it, though. She didn’t understand how overwhelming all of it felt to . But I wasn’t going to be a buzzkill. Not tonight.
I had to admit, I was looking forward to seeing Eldur outside of our usual, quiet spaces. He’d seed... different since the job hunt today, and I had no idea what to make of it. I an, I was still adjusting to the idea of spending ti with soone like him, soone who could command the room with just his presence.
Tonight, I couldn’t help feeling excited just by standing side by side with him. He was, standing tall, dressed in his usual dark, effortless style. He looked calm, cool, and... well, powerful. I couldn’t help but be drawn to him like a moth to light. But as we stepped further into the bar, my stomach dropped. A crowd suddenly started growing around him, and little by little I was pushed to the background.
They were asking him questions. Complinting him. Trying to connect with him. Each word they said seed to land with a clink, like they were trying to pry open a box they couldn’t quite reach. I wasn’t jealous, not at all. Eldur was just... well, Eldur. Everyone wanted a piece of him. It wasn’t about not wanting them to get close. It was about sothing deeper. A feeling I couldn’t shake, no matter how hard I tried.
I felt my pulse quicken. My breath caught in my throat. The laughter, the talking, the attention—it felt like it was closing in on . I didn’t want to be in the center of it. I didn’t want to be seen. And I sure as hell didn’t want to watch Eldur enjoying it.
I turned on my heel before anyone could notice I was slipping away, weaving through the crowd with practiced speed. Lara called my na, but it barely registered in my mind. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay there.
I grabbed my jacket, rushed out of the bar, and flagged down a taxi. My heart pounded in my chest, and the air in my lungs felt like it was turning to stone. The city outside the cab was a blur of neon lights and empty promises. I barely noticed the ride.
The taxi dropped off near a quiet park, its once-lush trees now bare, with the faintest rustle of wind shaking the dead leaves. I wanted silence. I wanted to drown out the noise of everything—the music, the laughter, the pressure of being seen. I walked through the park, the cold air biting at my skin, until I found a secluded bench. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
I sat there, staring at the empty space in front of . The world seed quieter here. There was a kind of peace in the solitude, even though my mind was a ss of tangled thoughts.
Why had I run? Why had I let it all get to ?
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be around Eldur. He was Eldur. The sa guy who made laugh, who made feel like maybe I wasn’t just another face in the crowd. I felt safe with him—sotis more than I felt safe with myself. It was sothing else entirely. Sothing I’d buried deep down for ten years.
It was my mother.
God, not again.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the mories away, but they were there, creeping up like smoke, filling my lungs until I couldn’t breathe.
I was just a kid when my mother started talking about becoming a celebrity. At first, it sounded like a joke—sothing she said to pass the ti, sothing she said to keep herself occupied while she ran errands or cleaned the house. But she didn’t stop there. No. She worked for it. She took every acting class she could find, every audition she could get herself into. She got herself into shape, did her makeup like she was preparing for war, and wore clothes that scread look at .
And she succeeded.
But when she did, everything changed.
She didn’t want anything to do with my dad and anymore. She hated us. No, she wasn’t ashad of us—she was ashad of herself. Ashad that she’d spent so many years in a small, no-na town with a man who loved her more than life itself, doing nothing more than working a job that barely paid the bills. My dad, a simple man, who worked as a chanic in a greasy, rundown garage that slled like engine oil and sweat. He was steady, dependable, and kind to a fault. But that wasn’t what my mother wanted. She wanted glamor. She wanted to be adored. She wanted people to worship her like they did those famous faces on the big screen.
So, she abandoned us.
It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t like one day she just packed up and left. No. It was a slow fade, a gradual erosion of everything I had ever known. At first, she’d co ho late, telling how good things were going, how she was getting closer to making it big. Then, she stopped coming ho altogether. She stopped answering my calls, stopped acknowledging my existence. Her new life was her priority, and we—my dad and I—had beco a burden.
I rember the day she finally left. I was sitting on the porch when I saw her car pull up. She got out, wearing a dress that glittered in the sun, heels that clicked against the pavent with each step. She was stunning. I hadn’t seen her look like that in years. I was so excited, thinking she was finally coming ho. Maybe things would be different. Maybe we could be a family again.
But then she said it.
"I’m moving to the city, Nova. I can’t keep pretending this life is mine anymore. I’m not coming back."
I didn’t understand it then. I couldn’t understand it. Not at ten years old. But I saw the look in her eyes, the way she avoided looking at my dad. The sha. And I knew—knew—that it wasn’t just about her career. It was about her wanting to escape everything we were.
She left. And we were left with nothing.
My father, the man who had loved her with everything he had, fell apart. It wasn’t imdiate, but it was inevitable. He’d always been a drinker, but it had never been this bad. He’d never been this broken. I would co ho from school to find him passed out on the couch, empty bottles scattered around him like confetti at a party he hadn’t been invited to.
And then ca the night. The night he died.
I rember the phone call. The officer on the other end telling my dad had been in an accident. He was drunk, they said, and he’d run into the street, right in front of a car that couldn’t stop in ti. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just... stared. Stared at the phone, unable to move, unable to comprehend the finality of it all. My father was gone, and she? She never ca. Not once. Not for the funeral. Not for .
She just... stayed gone.
That was the night I swore I would never let myself be hurt like that again. That night I promised myself I would never let anyone get close enough to shatter like that. Fa. Attention. All of it—it scared . It made feel small and unimportant. And when Eldur stood there tonight, surrounded by all those people, all those hands trying to touch him, those eyes trying to drink him in, I felt like I was dying.
Because in those monts, I saw my mother’s face again.
I felt the crushing weight of being invisible, of being overshadowed, of being abandoned.
And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be that person.
I ran.
I ran away, not knowing where my feet would take , until I found myself sitting here, on this damn bench, my heart a heavy lump in my chest.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until I heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, deliberate, and filled with the sa quiet authority that had made feel both small and seen all at once. I knew who it was before I even looked up.
Eldur.
I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to see the concern in his eyes, the pity. But I couldn’t stop myself. His presence was a pull, sothing magnetic.
He sat beside on the bench, his weight shifting the cold tal beneath us. There was a long pause before he spoke, his voice low, almost hesitant.
"Nova..."
I didn’t know what to say. The words were trapped in my throat, a mix of frustration, fear. All I could feel at that mont was an overwhelming urge to hide.
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