It is Friday.
The day I have been dreading.
The day I have to sneak out through my window just to attend some high school party. The day I'm probably going to get put in the dirt for the rest of my life by my mum. Before heading into the house this afternoon, I made sure to put the ladder up against the wall underneath my window so that I could leave quickly and efficiently. Then I'll run to Dominic's car which is parked a few houses away from ours and we'll drive off into the dark.
Seems simple enough.
I look down at my outfit and pat myself down gingerly. I'm wearing my new night sky blue, tracksuit trousers for the very first time during my time in high school. I mostly stray towards jeans and normal trousers, but I don't think I should bring out anything for an occasion so unlikely to be auspicious. My hair is styled into a nice hairstyle with a few strands feathering the top of my forehead after I got it trimmed a few days ago.
I rapidly take my pillows and align them underneath my blanket to make it look like I'm actually sleeping if for some reason my parents want to check up on me. They haven't done that ever since I was a little kid, but I don't want to take any chances. I know that fate is just waiting to screw me over yet again. This would be the perfect opportunity for it to strike.
Just as I'm patting the pillow to make it look like me, my phone lights up on my bedside table, alerting me of a new call. I press my lips together and grab it from its charger.
"I'm outside. Mission Starr is sneaking out for the first time in his miserable life is a go," Dominic jests after I pick up the call.
"You're not funny."
"Now I can see that green aura that Jodie was talking about."
Without responding, I hang up the call.
Then I take a deep, calming breath into my chest and try to shrug the panicking thoughts away. My heart continues to beat in my face, the noise drumming loudly in my ears. Gulping some courage down my throat, I nod and chant an encouragement to myself over and over again in my head.
Pocketing my phone in my bum bag, I head over to the window and slide it open smoothly. The cold wind hits my face and I'm immediately grateful for the jacket that I'm wearing over my casual tee.
"What are you doing?"
I spring out of my skin and spin around to catch Yang Jin gazing at me suspiciously. I try to act natural by leaning my elbow against the wall next to the open window and placing a hand on my head.
"Uh… nothing," I chuckle anxiously.
His eyebrows pinch together as he hardens the suspicion in his gaze. Like the investigative detective he is, he begins to survey the room with interest.
"Pillows forming a human-like bump under the blankets. Brother dressed in black tracksuit trousers. Window open and a ladder outside said window. Finally using the bum bag that Franklin bought for you."
I grimace at being called out.
"That doesn't seem like nothing to me," he states with a little arrogant smirk tugging onto his lips.
I knew that this was a bad idea.
"I just… wanted to breathe in the fresh air," I stutter the lie out with a stiff smile making its way onto my lips. I sniff harshly just to bring my point across. "You know… and stare up at the mesmerising moon."
Also, these trousers aren't black. They're nightly blue, I want to add but the words get stuck somewhere in my throat.
"Dressed like that? With the bum bag?" he muses, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow up.
I slide my lips inside my mouth and nod vigorously, hoping that my anxiety is obscured from my eyes and body. "Yes, I love feeling like… I'm being held while I'm staring up at the moon. It's… romantic."
"It's a moonless night. What romantic moon are you staring up at?"
I grit my teeth in apprehension, averting my gaze to the suddenly interesting bookshelf in my room. Okay, there is no way of getting out of this one. Yang Jin is way too smart for me. He's going to figure out that I'm sneaking out and the first thing he's going to do is run over to our parents and tattletale.
"Are you sneaking out?" he finally asks the million-dollar question that I have been dreading.
"What?"
"Are you sneaking out?"
"No!"
He flicks his eyebrow up unconvinced.
"I'm not. Why would I be sneaking out of the house? That's just… ludicrous and a suicide mission. Do you know… what Amma would do to me?"
After I have finished giving him my explanation, I still notice the subtle yet unmistakable expression of disbelief on his face. His eyebrows arch up, forming a slight furrow in the middle of his forehead and his lips purse together in a thin line. It's as though he is silently conveying that he finds it hard to accept anything I have just told him.
"Okay, yes. I'm sneaking out." I eventually cave, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "I… there's this party that I have to go to with… with Dominic."
"Who are you and what have you done to my goody-two-shoes of a brother?" he muses, chuckling in amusement.
I glare at him. Crossing my arms, I drill my toes into the floorboard and pout my lips angrily.
"Why are you sneaking out through the window?"
"Well, I can't just walk out of the front door at eight o'clock in the night. Amma would kill me."
"Today is Friday," he points out to me, but I don't see where he's going with this. "Friday night is date night. Amma and Franklin left about half an hour ago."
I blink slowly at my idiocy and a quiet tsk sound escapes me. "Of course."
Every Friday, when our mum doesn't have to work the night shift, my parents do this thing where they go out on date night to keep the romance in their relationship alive.
They first go to Flip and Out which is the place where they both had their first date. Then they head over to the movies and watch a romantic comedy or a horror—my father prefers horrors because he still believes that Amma is gonna shriek at every loud noise and lean into him. It hasn't happened yet, but he's not one to give up so easily even though it has been a couple of years.
Then they end the night with a nice, candlelit dinner at Father's diner. They normally stumble back into the house a couple of minutes before midnight like two induced teenagers, giggling loudly. I'm normally still wide awake, binge-watching a bunch of series and cheesy, teen fictional movies with Ji Ho and Chu Hua who like sleeping on my lap, waiting for them.
"You can just leave through the front door," he tells me with a look of hilarity.
I purse my lips at him in annoyance. "Yes, I realise that now."
"Just make sure you're back before midnight. Eleven would be a much safer suggestion."
"Wait, you're not gonna snitch on me?"
"Nope."
"What's the catch?" I ask him, giving him a curious look.
"There is no catch," he replies, but from the look I'm giving him, he knows that I'm not buying the bullshit. "Now, hurry up and go and party with your boyfriend."
"He's not my," He turns around and leaves my room with arrogance in his step and I awkwardly end my statement, "boyfriend."
As soon as I enter his car and take my seat beside Dominic, my attention is immediately drawn to his vibrant attire.
His outfit is a burst of colours and there isn't a hint of monotone anywhere, except for his black trainers and a black beanie that he wears on his head. I have come to the conclusion that he has a thing for covering his hair, which is always styled to perfection, whenever he's out in public. Whether it's a hat, a cap, or one of his many hoodies, he always has something on his head.
And then there is his face and his hair, which are impossible to describe in words. His face is chiselled and angular, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass, the fake moustache on his face immediately immiscible. His hair, on the other hand, is a beautiful mess, styled in a way that looks both effortless and intentional. It looks like a wig. Either way, it's a sight to behold.
"Are you dressed as Hulk Hogan?" I muse in confusion, slowly blinking as if to try and wake myself up from this obvious hallucination.
"Yeah, the wrestler," he replies, and shockingly relief flashes in his usually blank gaze. "You watch wrestling?"
"Yeah, it's one of the few ways that my brother and I can bond," my words leave through a quiet murmur and my stare lingers on him for a really long time and so many questions fill my head. Rapidly, I blink like my brain is short circuiting and again I scrunch up my face in bemusement. "My question is why are you dressed as the anorexic version of Hulk Hogan?"
"Hey, I have more muscles than him," he exclaims playfully and to prove his point, he stretches his arms above his head and I can now confidently say that he doesn't have more muscles than Hulk Hogan. "Anorexic version, my arse."
"Why are you dressed like that?"
"It's a Halloween party, Starr."
The moment I hear those words, my eyes widen.
A Halloween party?
Why didn't he inform me earlier?
I am not dressed for that though.
Panic sets in as I realise that everyone at the party will be donning their spookiest and scariest costumes while I'll be the only one without a costume. I'll just end up being a sight for sore thumbs. Just the thought of it makes me feel nervous and self-conscious.
I can't imagine walking into that party and being greeted by puzzled looks and whispers behind my back. I can't handle that kind of embarrassment. No, that is it. I make up my mind to head back home and crawl back under my covers. There is no way I'm going to be the laughing stock of the party. I can't bear the thought of being remembered as the boy who didn't wear a costume to the Halloween party.
"You didn't tell me this is gonna be a Halloween party."
"I realise that," he says with a nonchalant nod and then proceeds to toss a black mask at me. It lands on my lap with a soft thud. "Which is why I got you this."
Picking it up, I look it over in perplex. It feels very lacy against my fingers. "What is this?"
"It's a mask."
"Yeah, no shit. I mean, who am I going as?"
"That Anna chick from Fifty Shades Darker," he states casually before straining to reach into the back seat to retrieve something else.
"What?"
Once he's done fiddling in the backseat, he rests in his seat and hands me something else. After inspecting it in my hands like I did the mask, I realise that it's a wig. The same brunette, fringe from the movie.
He must notice the scowl on my face because I hear him snorting in amusement and when I turn around to look at him, he quickly tames the expression on his face and his gaze wavers to leisurely glance outside his window. Feeling my scornful gaze, he turns back and lifts his shoulder questioningly.
"You're on some joke ting," I mutter indignantly.
"I don't know what you're on about. Put your seatbelt on," he demands calmly before he starts the car and manoeuvres it into the road.
"I don't wanna be Anna or whatever the fuck her name is." Irritably, I toss the wig on the dashboard and when I don't do what he's commanded me to do, he slows the car down and reaches over to click my seatbelt on.
"What? Afraid you might find your Christian Grey?" I don't miss the slight smugness in his tone and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was teasing me.
"You're actually not even funny. I would rather be ridiculed for not wearing a costume."
"C'mon, Starr, it's just for one night. Besides, I'm pretty sure everyone at the party will either be too drunk to point out that you're dressed as the bird who gets whipped by her dom, or they won't even know… or care. Not to burst your bubble or anything, but you're not that special."
As I read his words, my face contorts into a scowl.
I can't deny that they sting a little. It's something that I've always been aware of, deep down. I'm not the type of person who turns heads as they walk through a room. I don't have that certain something that draws people's attention. If anything, it's my friend Taylor who's the standout. She's always been the one who catches people's eyes. But I've never really minded that. I've always been content to blend into the background, to be just another face in the crowd.
But when Dominic says it, that's when it really hits home. Suddenly, my lack of specialness becomes more definite than it ever was before. It's not just a passing thought that flits through my mind and then disappears. It's a statement, a fact that's been put into words. And it feels like that fact has somehow become more real now that someone else has said it out loud.
"Well, let's hope my brother doesn't snitch on me because I don't think I can handle my mother's wrath."
"Yang," he says and then flickers his gaze over to me as he drives. "That's his name, right?"
"Yeah. Well, that's what they used to call him at school. His full name is actually Yang Jin, but because Jin sounds a lot like Lin people thought his name was just Yang and his last name was Lin. It's actually Yang Jin Lee."
"What does that mean?"
"What?"
"Well, I mean, your name means star or planet so what does his name mean?"
"How do you know my name means planet?" A tiny, amused smile tugs onto my lips as I watch his side profile. "Did you google my name?"
He tenses for a short while until he forces out a deep exhale. "Maybe I did. I had to see what I was getting myself into before approaching you, you know? There is nothing wrong with doing a little bit of research on an absolute stranger before getting to know them."
"That's absolute bullshit. Even I can see past all the bullshit you just spewed." The smile on my face grows larger the longer he remains silent. "What did Google say about me?"
"Everything I already knew. Some dumb, Korean boy who thinks puns are the highest form of comedy."
"Ah," I dispute, with mock disappointment staining my face. "Half Korean boy. They forgot that I'm also Taiwanese. Google is so unreliable nowadays."
I don't miss the tiny arch that his mouth forms.