Blue was already scanning my clothes like a stylist dissatisfied with my life choices.
When I didn't respond-because my brain had officially left the chat-he took my silence as approval and started seriously looking through my closet. "Now, let's see what you've got to wear-"
That's when I snapped out of it and grabbed his arm, hauling him back. "A bachelor's party? At midnight? Are you insane?" I whisper-shouted, panic clawing up my throat. "Do you actually want my parents to murder me?!"
Because climbing through my window was one thing.
Sneaking me out to a mysterious midnight bachelor's party?
That felt like the opening scene of a documentary titled 'He Was Never Seen Again.'
And knowing Blue?
There was a disturbingly high chance wolves would be involved.
Anyway, he just smiled at me like I was dramatically overreacting to something minor. Like sneaking out at midnight to attend a mysterious bachelor's party was the equivalent of borrowing a pencil.
"Relax, Mason," he said easily. "Your parents won't find out. I promise."
He said promise like it was a sacred oath. Like he had already calculated escape routes, alibis, and backup plans.
"My elder brother is getting married tomorrow," he continued. "There's a bachelor's party tonight. I thought it would be nice if you came too."
Nice.
At midnight. Secret mission. Possible death.
Very nice.
"Please, Mason?" he added, softer this time. "It's going to be fun. I promise. And I swear your family will never find out."
Then he looked at me.
And I froze.
There was something in his eyes I had never seen before. Not mischief. Not danger. Not that unhinged sparkle he carried around like an accessory.
No. It was softness.
Real softness, like it would actually matter to him if I said no.
I didn't understand why it mattered but somehow it did.
And yes, you guessed correctly.
I folded.
Not gracefully.
Not slowly.
I folded faster than a wet tissue in a rainstorm.
"Well... if you promise my family won't find out," I muttered, surprising even myself, "I'll go."
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to rewind time and slap myself hard across the face.
I'm an introvert. Parties and I have a restraining order against each other. We do not coexist peacefully. But one soft "please" from him and my entire personality evaporated.
It felt like hypnosis.
The same strange pull from yesterday. The same warmth. The same dizzy, irrational trust.
And for a brief second, something painful flickered in my chest.
Was I doing this because I had just lost Caleb? Because the only friend I'd built my world around had broken my heart?
Was I clinging to the first person who turned toward me?
I didn't have the emotional stability to unpack that. So instead, I stood there and watched Blue completely invade my closet.
"This one?" he asked, holding up blue jeans and a green shirt. He pressed them against me, stepped back, narrowed his eyes like a runway judge.
Then shook his head.
"No. Not good enough."
He swapped the shirt for a blue one. Same jeans. Same dramatic inspection.
Still no.
I couldn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips. He looked ridiculously serious. Like my outfit was a life-or-death decision.
I never knew Blue had this side to him. A side that was kind, soft and goofy.
Then he dug deeper into my closet. And right from the very back of my closet, he pulled it out.
The baby pink shirt.
The one with the soft patterns.
My stomach instantly dropped.
I had completely forgotten that shirt was still there. I thought I'd hidden it in a box months ago.
I instantly began to panic because that shirt was a secret. A symbol of what I was allowed to have and not have.
A few months back, I had gone shopping with my brother Liam; and that's where I saw it on a mannequin. It was a delicate, pretty, unapologetically baby pink soft shirt that practically begged me to take it home.
I fell in love instantly.
And instantly knew I couldn't wear it.
Dad would've exploded. Liam would've laughed. I would've paid for it emotionally for weeks.
So I walked away.
Then circled back when Liam wasn't looking and bought it anyway.
I kept it hidden like evidence, like a crime. No one was allowed to see it.
And now Blue was holding it up like treasure.
I was fighting so hard to control my panicking but it shot straight out of me anyways.
"It's not mine!" I blurted. "It's-uh-it's my sister's. She must've left it in my closet by mistake. Haha."
The lie came out clumsy and fragile. I wasn't Caleb. I couldn't fabricate a flawless story in two seconds.
And Blue definitely didn't believe me.
But he didn't laugh. He didn't frown. Didn't question me, instead, he just smiled.
"This is it," he said softly. "This is the one. Thank goodness your sister 'forgot' it. It'll look perfect on you. I hope you wear it."
His eyes sparkled when he said it.
Sparkled.
My mouth fell open.
He wasn't weirded out. He wasn't embarrassed. He genuinely wanted me to wear it.
"You... want me to wear this?" I asked carefully.
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "You'll look perfect."
My throat tightened.
"Wouldn't you be embarrassed?" I asked quietly. "It looks feminine. Especially on me. I'm a guy."
Blue laughed - warm, effortless.
"Embarrassed? I love it. And I'd love to see you in it."
And that was it.
That was the moment something cracked open inside me.
A single tear slipped down before I could stop it.
So this is what it feels like.
Not to be mocked.
Not to be corrected.
Not to be told you're wrong for liking something soft.
It felt unreal.
Like I was standing in someone else's life.
I blinked quickly and tried to play it off.
"Are you sure?" I asked again, pretending to hesitate. Pretending this wasn't the most validating moment of my existence.
He nodded.
No doubt.
No teasing.
Just certainty.
I went into the bathroom to change while Blue sat patiently on my bed, like this entire situation was normal and not emotionally life-altering.
As I pulled the pink shirt over my head, warmth spread through me.
It fit perfectly.
It hugged my frame just right.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
And for the first time, I didn't feel ashamed.
I felt... good.
Actually good.
And damn.
I looked amazing.
I took a deep breath before stepping back into my room trying to look calm.
I failed immediately.
Blue looked up from my bed-and froze.
Then he broke into the biggest smile I had ever seen on his face.
"Perfect," he said, nodding slowly like an art critic approving a masterpiece. "Absolutely perfect."
And I blushed.
Again.
At this point, my cheeks deserved their own gym membership.
Blue gave me one last approving look, then casually climbed out the window like gravity was optional. He hung there effortlessly, gripping the frame with one hand and stretching the other toward me.
I looked down.
Second floor.
Concrete.
Regret.
My stomach flipped.
"Come on," he said, smiling like this was a normal Tuesday activity. "Give me your hand. I'll carry you on my back and climb down."
Carry me.
Climb down.
Sir, this is not a ladder. This is a drop.
"I can't," I whispered, shaking my head. The reality of sneaking out was finally catching up to me. "This is a bad idea. A very bad idea."
Blue's expression softened.
"I won't let you fall," he said gently. "Trust me."
Trust.
That word again.
I don't remember consciously deciding to move.
But suddenly, my hand was in his.
The moment our fingers touched, he pulled me forward in one smooth motion. I barely had time to gasp before I was outside the window, landing securely in his arms.
Then, without effort, he shifted me onto his back like I weighed nothing.
Like I was just another accessory.
And then-
He jumped.
Off the balcony.
My soul left my body for half a second.
But he landed smoothly. Not even a stumble. It was like he had springs in his legs.
I stared at him in disbelief.
Superhuman.
There was no other explanation.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs, but Blue didn't put me down. Instead, he adjusted his grip and started walking down the street like carrying a full-grown human was light cardio.
"You can drop me," I muttered as we approached his Lamborghini parked a few blocks away. "I can walk."
Meanwhile, my arms were still firmly wrapped around him.
And yes.
I was shamelessly inhaling his scent.
I couldn't help it. He smelled ridiculously good. Clean, warm, slightly sweet. What kind of perfume did this man use? And where could I buy a gallon of it?
"Don't worry," he replied casually. "We're almost there."
Like this wasn't intimate. Like this wasn't significant.
And that's when it hit me.
With Caleb, I couldn't even hold hands without feeling self-conscious.
With Blue?
Physical contact felt... natural.
Effortless.
He didn't hesitate. Didn't flinch. Didn't overthink.
It made him feel unreal.
Like he operated in a world where rules didn't apply.
Like he was the most excitement I had ever experienced in my entire life.
When we reached the car, he finally set me down gently. Then he walked around and opened the passenger door for me.
Again.
Second time since we started talking to eachother.
Princess treatment.
For a guy.
I slid into the seat, trying very hard not to acknowledge how much I liked it.
The leather was soft. The car smelled expensive. The whole vibe screamed main character energy, and I was doing my best to sit there like this was totally normal and I did not, in fact, feel like I'd just entered a fairy tale world.
As we pulled onto the road, Blue reached over and turned on the radio.
And then, "Flowers" by Miley Cyrus started playing.
My song.
And when I say my song, I don't mean casually-my-favorite. I mean I-know-every-breath-she-takes-between-lyrics favorite. I could sing it in my sleep. I could probably perform it in concert if Miley called in sick.
But I never sang it out loud.
Once, years ago, my dad was driving the whole family to my Aunt Clara's wedding when that song came on the radio. Then, I was younger. Happier. Less… edited.
So I sang.
Softly at first. Then louder.
Dad shut it down instantly.
"That's a girl's song. Stop embarrassing yourself."
Just like that.
Radio off. Voice off. Me off.
After that, whenever the song played, I swallowed it. Every lyric. Every note. I let it live inside my chest where it hurt a little but stayed safe.
So now, as the music filled the car, I bit the inside of my cheek and stared out the window like I wasn't fighting a full-blown internal war.
And then to my complete shock, Blue started singing along with the radio.
Loudly. Confidently. Passionately. And slightly off-key.
"This is one of my favorite songs!" he declared between lyrics, drumming the steering wheel like he was headlining a stadium tour.
I turned slowly to look at him.
Blue Gem.
Mysterious. Reckless. Climbs buildings like gravity personally offended him.
And here he was, singing Miley Cyrus with his whole chest like the world owed him backup vocals.
Something inside me cracked. Not painfully. But like a cage door swinging open.
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
And before I could stop myself, I started singing along with him. I sang loud. Clear and Unapologetic.
We butchered the high notes together. We pointed dramatically at each other during the chorus. Blue attempted a vocal run that absolutely did not exist in the original song. The night air rushed in through the slightly open windows, tangling with our laughter.
For the first time in years, I wasn't shrinking.
I wasn't filtering.
I wasn't calculating how I sounded or looked or whether someone would think it was "wrong."
I was just… there. Existing. Happy.
The song faded, and so did the city lights as Blue turned onto a quieter road.
Streetlights thinned out.
Houses disappeared.
My earlier comfort quietly packed its bags and left.
This was how horror movies started.
Cheerful music. Sudden isolation. Suspiciously handsome driver.
I glanced at Blue.
If I died tonight, at least I'd die knowing he couldn't hit a high note.
But then, a massive building rose ahead.
Elegant. Illuminated. Intimidatingly luxurious.
It looked like a hotel.
But not the kind with coupon discounts.
The kind where people say "summer in Monaco" casually.
"We're here," Blue said smoothly, like he hadn't just given me emotional whiplash.
He stepped out.
I immediately began fighting my seatbelt like it had been waiting for this moment to betray me. It refused to unclick. I tugged. It tightened. I panicked.
"This is how I go," I muttered under my breath.
Before I could declare war on it properly, my door opened.
Blue.
Of course. This was the third time of him getting the car door for me.
He stood there holding it open like it was second nature. Like he'd been opening doors for confused disasters his entire life.
I stepped out, attempting to look calm while internally screaming at a pitch only dogs could hear.
He nodded toward the entrance.
"Come on."
We walked side by side toward the building. The closer we got, the louder the sound became—music pulsing, laughter spilling out, deep voices overlapping, glasses clinking in rhythm.
My heartbeat synced with the bass.
We passed the reception area and approached a large set of double doors where the music was loudest.
Blue didn't hesitate, he pushed them open.
We stepped inside and instantly, silence fell.
Complete, suffocating silence.
Over fifty people froze mid-laugh. Mid-dance. Mid-sip.
Glasses hovered in the air. Conversations died mid-sentence. Every head turned.
Not to Blue.
But to me.