There were moments like this in most of the movies and series of Yael films. The night air is cool and crisp, with the scent of earth and dew. He sighed, feeling all his problems disappearing as he watched the stars shimmer like diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas, their gentle light illuminating the darkness with a soft, ethereal glow.
Most of the time, they used green screens in the movies to achieve this kind of scene since they were just filming in the city, and the light pollution was too intense for the stars to glow. Yet, there was no need for the green screen or any props right now. The sky was a perfect canvas and picture for the poets to write their aspirations and hopes in life.
Rummaging at his thoughts, Yael can't help but chuckle. He then prepared the grill for the chicken. His heart is as stable as it was before, thinking that what he just felt in the afternoon was just some kind of hallucination and that he must be caught off guard by his thoughts.
Thoughts…
Thoughts...?
What thoughts?
Yael frowned.
It was a relaxing day. So, he must have really been caught off guard.
About what? He asked. He felt like an idiot confusing himself more.
He doesn't have any answers for that.
After a few musings, he realized he was starting to get too comfortable around her. No, he was already comfortable around her.
Was that even bad? Should he keep his distance? He asked. Just as numerous questions emerged in his mind, he saw Solanne holding a tray with the chicken, all of the seasonings, plates, and things they needed, walking towards him. Music playing on her phone. She loves Taylor Swift. That's one he observed when he saw her earlier scrolling on her phone, trying to find good music.
There were a few choices she was contemplating. Taylor Swift, BTS, Chase Atlantic, and 5sos, and she even has that music used for theatrical plays. It's random, to be honest. Yael was amused when he found it out.
Without any hesitation, he met her halfway, offering to help. Solanne let him carry the tray she held and changed the music again to a slower, calming one.
When he put down the tray, he turned his back, facing Solanne, and asked. "Are we friends?"
Solanne paused. The hand holding her phone stopped midway. She blinked, confused. "What's the question out of the blue?"
Right, why did he even ask? Still!
"A random one. Just answer!" Yael pressed. He wanted to confirm something. He tried to take comfort in the fact that they were friends. Besides, What's even wrong with him asking such questions?
"If we are not friends, then what are we? Strangers? Enemies?" Solanne joked, not minding the question, pulling up and arranging the chairs.
Right, friends. He thought. What is wrong with being friends anyway? Friends are there so you can be comfortable, he dismissed. He's probably overthinking since if his manager was here he'll warn him about any possible scandals.
Yael's manager would often remind him to be cautious since there were many people who wanted to see him in ruins and wanted to create rumors that would cost his popularity. But he doesn't have to worry about those things now.
He was in a province. Few, almost none, in this place, recognize him, and Solanne wasn't even his fan anyway to fan girl over him and brag about their situation.
As his mind was filled with thoughts, he paused for a moment. What's the basis of putting his faith in this matter? They were strangers before and were just here because they can't go home and they're experiencing something phenomenal like those fantasy adventures.
Humans are tricky.
He felt like puking as his mind wandered to these questions and thoughts. He can't stomach what he's even thinking, yet he knew, he knew something, and that he's not that sure since—
"What are you even thinking?" Solanne interrupted as she noticed that he was in a daze.
Yael blinked his thoughts, pulling him back to reality. Does he really need to overthink now?
He cleared his throat and started the fire. "Nothing," he muttered. Fanning the charcoal to maintain the fire.
"Seems like you love the word 'nothing,'" Solanne sarcastically added as she started to separate the chicken, prepare them on the plate, and wait for the fire. It took a good 30 minutes, 10 minutes Yael fanning the fan, and 20 minutes venting out, making excuses that he's not used to labor.
In which Solanne just laughed at him and pushed him away when the fire started. She then started grilling. Halfway through, Yael returned to the kitchen and grabbed some tables to put outside since they were going to eat under the starry sky.
He also grabbed a few cans of beer, juice, and soda and placed them neatly in a bowl of ice. Yael was scrolling through his phone when he decided to put it down and just looked up at the sky.
Seeing this, Solanne's heart was moved, yet she teased, "Feeling emotional?"
Yael scoffed, eyes still on the starry sky. "You don't have the right to judge me, idiot. The sky is beautiful, but you should be ashamed you're judging me."
Solanne laughed. "Whatever."
"Just look up," Yael insisted. "It's beautiful enough for you to feel that you are under the watchful gaze of the universe."
"Seems poetic," Solanne added, flipping the chicken and dressing it with the marinade sauce.
"What's wrong with being poetic. Many poets died because of their feelings and their convictions. They fight through their words with a world that used guns and weapons to start a conflict, and that makes them so amazing."
Hearing this coming from her beloved actor and idol, she can't help but raise her right brow. "Are you a poet? Did you have an experience in your past life, maybe?"
This time, Yael was the one who chuckled. "No, I just had a role before about a poet back in the Victorian era who had loved a woman who was a daughter of a count."
"Sounds tragic." Solanne countered, already guessing the ending.
"That's right," Yael smiled, eyes twinkling as he seemed to remember a fond memory. "It's quite tragic that women back then are expected to marry by the age of 18 and that they can't even choose someone whom they love. The concept of love back then was too political to reason. Yet, the poet, realizing that he won't have her hand by marriage, managed to win her heart using poems."
Solanne, checking the chicken to see if it was cooked, was far more curious. "Tell me more."
"The woman often went to church every morning to pray for his mother. Her mother has an illness too severe to even be cured by the doctors back then. She would often buy flowers, papers with fragrance, candles, and anything sold outside the cathedral. The poet, who needed to make ends meet, was the one selling them. It was loved at first sight," Yael chuckled. His eyes glistened as he recounted.
"Since it was love at first sight, the poet would slip letters, folded ones, on the items she bought, hoping she would read them. She did, though. Those poems had become the lady's escape because of the pressure of her political marriage. The poet thought it was a one-sided affection until the lady wrote back. On a piece of paper, tell him about her days and thoughts."
Solanne smiled upon hearing the story. "It's a slow burn." She giggled, feeling and imagining the scene. She can't help but feel how precious it was.
"Slow burn?" Yael asked. This time, he was standing in front of Solanne, looking at the chicken.
Solanne nodded, a grin was on her face. "You don't know slow burn?"
"Would I ask if I know?"
Solanne smiled, excited. "Well, it's a type of writing, I guess, a certain way of an author— a writer, to let the readers grow with the characters. It's a type of romance that develops slowly on every page throughout its story. It is focused on the interaction, the romantic relations, and how they develop in each character to let the individual sink in their heats, and the longer it takes, the more it becomes fierce. It's a love that I dream to have."
Hearing the last sentence, Yael raised both of his brows. Solanne's smile reflected in his eyes as he couldn't help but raise his hand and wipe the black stain of charcoal on her chin. For a moment, he felt time frozen.
Solanne stepped back as she thanked him for his gestures. She then explains and even shares stories with the same plot and how she liked and loved the idea so much. She was putting her heart into it.
But he was not listening. He's eyes on Solanne. Staring, looking at her.
He swallowed, remembering his questions. Friends… right, friends.