Aurelia
Oh no. This is bad.
One glance outside the window tells me it's well past seven p.m. I have less than three hours before I have to meet whoever sent me the letter. I need to find out who it is.
I move to the windows, shoving at them to see if there's any give, trying to look for another exit. But I came up short. There's no other door; the windows are screwed in.
I pace and pace, hours later. My anxiety is brewing and threatening to overflow the darker the sky gets.
It's almost ten o'clock.
What if this person decides to reveal my secret? Dread settles like lead in my belly. They know where I live; they know my real name. The longer I think about it, the more the possibility solidifies.
It didn't seem like they had intentions to harm me, but rather to warn me. But about what?
I chew at my thumbnails, listening as music pours in from the upper level of the house, the bass echoing above me.
Another one of Dad's business events. I can't pound on the doors because it would be useless, the music is too loud, and no one would even hear me.
I have no idea what to do.
I sink to the floor, burying my face in my hands.
The locks jingle a second before the door pulls open. I jump to my feet in the dark, the light from outside highlighting Rune's profile just before he closes the door behind him, locking it back in place. He flicks the light switch on as he descends the staircase, pausing once he notices me.
His signature grin tilts the corners of his lips. "I'm getting a strange sense of Deja Vu here, Cinderella."
"Your mom locked me in here."
"Yeah?" He laughs. "What'd you do this time?"
My hands ball into fists at my sides. "I didn't do anything," I say. "I never
do anything."
He pauses right beside me, staring down at my face. I flush at the
proximity, images from last night blurring through my mind.
Breathe through your nose.
I take a step back, like maybe putting a little distance between us could erase the memories of the things we did yesterday.
The things I let them do.
He lingers for a long moment, and I refuse to meet his stare, only lifting my head when he walks by me. "What are you doing down here?"
He runs a hand over the top of a dusty crate, cleaning off his dirty palm on his jeans. "These kinds of events aren't really my thing."
"Can you unlock the door for me?"
"Why should I?"
"Please," I add.
"Nice try," He gives me a look over his shoulder and says, "But you're going to have
to do better than that."
"Please, Rune," I walk up to him, "This is important." He gives me a look. "Wanna attend the party?" "No," I hesitate, "I... have somewhere I need to be."
"Somewhere you need to be, huh?" He pulls open the crate, his brows lifting with surprise as he looks inside, reaching in and pulling out an old guitar.
"Yes."
"And where might that be?"
I grit my teeth. "I don't see how that's any of your concern."
He grins and says, "You know, you're awfully testy for someone in desperate need.
of my help."
"I'm going out to see a friend." I relent.
"A friend? What kind of friend?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Is he a guy?"
Oh.
I stammer, not sure what to say or if I should be saying anything at all. His fingers toy with the tunes of the old guitar, his eyes glinting as he looks at
me, "You sneaking off to go see your boyfriend, Cinderella?" My eyes widen, and he holds my stare, waiting for an answer. "I- I'm-"
"Come on, you can tell me. You worried I'd rat you out?" My eyes narrow. "Why are you so sure it's a guy?"
He shrugs, then drags the dirty crate in front of him, digging inside. For a second, I think that's the only response I'll get from him when he says, "I don't know why else you'd be so eager to leave. It must be important if it's got you so worked up. It must be a special kind of friend." He doesn't move any other part of his body but his eyes, pinning me with a stare. "So who's the lucky guy?"
I tinker with my fingers. "Well..."
"Tell you what." He interrupts after a moment, looking down at a crinkled notepad in his hand. "You sing the words off this page for me while I play this old thing," he taps the guitar, "and I'll let you out."
I squint at him. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. I found one of the first lyrics I ever wrote." He lets out a laugh, but it's humorless. "Of course they stowed all my shit down here; your old man never wanted to indulge this side of me."
My voice comes out small: "But you made a name for yourself either way."
He doesn't acknowledge what I said, holding out the notepad to me. "Deal or no deal?"
"I don't know how to sing."
"It's not rocket science." He says, "I play; you follow the tune."
He plays around with the strings of the guitar. I look out the window.
The sun is long gone. I sigh, reaching for the notepad. "Alright."
He starts playing a soft tune; it's scratchy at first, and the guitar is rusty from lack of use, but the melody evens out along the way. My eyes rake over the lyrics, trying to pick a rhythm as I start signing along.
Always right here, but forever far away.
I want to hold you, touch you, and love you, but I can never have you. You're perfection—better than the air I breathe.
Why is it so wrong to need you so close to me?
My throat closes up the closer I get to the end. It's a side of Rune's music I've never heard before. The music that sells out stadiums is always the raunchy kind, about the women, the drugs, the booze, and the wild lifestyle. But this... this is sweet and poetic. It's nothing like what I would imagine him putting together. It feels way too deep, too real.
"Who did you write this for?" I ask when he tugs on the final string.
He doesn't meet my eyes. "Who said I wrote it for someone?"
"It's pretty obvious. The song is breathtaking. It has to have been
about someone you care deeply about."
He lifts his head. "You think so, huh?"
"Do I know her?"
He studied me for a moment. "You do."
"I do?" I ask, surprised, "Who is she?"
He stares right at me, his eyes unblinking. "You." My heartbeats falter.
Me?
I couldn't have heard him right. His eyes are locked on my face, studying my reaction.
"You wrote this about... me?"
He remains quiet.
"Rune-"
He barks out a laugh then, getting to his feet, "Don't be stupid, Cinderella.
Of course it's not about you; you're my sister." He has his back to me, shoving the guitar back where he found it.
Right.
His sister.
And I feel gratitude then, followed by a wash of shame. Grateful he didn't
see my disappointment, but ashamedly, I had it in me to be disappointed at all.
Of course, it wasn't about me.
"Alright then, a deal's a deal." He walks up to me, holding out a set of keys. I reach for them, but he pulls his arm back, holding up a finger.
I scowl. "We had a deal, Rune."
"Tell me something first." His voice is low. He pauses for a second. "What's he like?"
My brows draw together. "Who?"
His eyes rove over my face. "The guy you're going to meet."
Oh.
"He's... well," I stammer. "He's nice, I guess."
"You like nice guys, then?"
I flush; he's so close to my face, hanging on to every word I say. "I like... I
like guys who are nice... to me."
He does that studying thing again, looking at me without saying a word. I
hold my breath for so long I think I might pass out soon, but then he moves away, the smallest, barely there smile tilting a corner of his mouth. He hands me the key and says, "Have fun."
I grab the keys, but he tightens his grip, holding my eyes again. "Be careful, Aurelia."
I nod slowly, "Yeah," clearing my throat, "I will."
I make my way out of the basement, thankful he doesn't make any attempts at stopping me again. The house is packed with guests; so many people are filling up the large space that it'll be easy to avoid my stepmother as I make my way to the door.
I'm just about to reach for the handle when the high-pitched voice screeches out my name.