"Ten minutes till midnight," James yells. They lowered the volume of the music slightly so everyone could hear him, "everyone over 21, come get your champagne."

I sit at the edge of my bed, running my fingers through my hair. I just want this night to be over. I want Wyatt to go back to Los Angeles and to forget that this week even happened. I want to go back to the city and pack up my stuff, it wouldn't be easy, but it'd be worth it. I'll be sacrificing my dreams and my career, sure, but I won't be alone. That was the one shining positive that was keeping me sane. My family. The people who've been able to make me forget for a moment that Wyatt was even in the room.

Someone knocks on my door, causing me to look up at it, "I'll be down in a minute." I yell, not bothering to move from my spot. Whoever it is knocks again, not believing my answer. It's probably Lizzie or Harper, ready to drag me back downstairs. I sigh, standing up, "Seriously, I just needed a- "

I open the door, going to shut it as soon as I see who's behind the door. Wyatt holds his foot out, blocking it from closing entirely. He holds two glasses of champagne in his hands, extending one out to me, "Lizzie told me you weren't feeling well, so I brought you yours."

"I'm good, thanks," I press my lips together, pushing the door slightly.

"I think we should talk," Without permission, Wyatt walks past me into my room. He places both of the glasses on my night table.

"Well, I don't," I remark, gesturing towards the door. Midnight was creeping closer, and I don't feel like starting my year off in another argument with Wyatt.

"Fine," Wyatt sits on my bed, proving to me he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, "I'll talk. You listen."

"Wyatt," I sigh, not moving from the door. I still held it open slightly, hoping he gets the gist to leave sometime soon. I can't do this right now, "I really don't want to hear it. I don't want some half-assed apology from you... Just go be with London. It's almost midnight."

"Why do you keep doing this?" Wyatt asks, shaking his head at me, "I just wanna talk to you, Marley, and you keep pushing me away."

"I'm the one pushing you away?" I scoff. The more Wyatt sits here, the closer my breaking point gets. How dare he accuse me of pushing him away. How dare he act like this is my fault. "I'm not the one who stopped speaking to the other for five years. I am not the one who chose fame over their best friend. So don't sit there and act like this is all my fault because it isn't."

"It's not your fault," Wyatt cried, raising his voice slightly. He's frustrated, beginning to tug at his curls that had been gelled down slightly, "It's mine. And I've been replaying our conversation on repeat for the past two days, trying to figure out a way to make everything better. I should have sent her away, told her that I didn't care if she was good for my image. I guess I was scared... Scared to tell my management off and lose everything. The thing is, I've thought a lot these past few days about who I wanna be, and I finally know my answer."

I let go of the door handle, my hands falling to my sides. I don't say a word. My heart is racing rapidly. Part of me wants to kick him out now. I don't want to be hurt again. I don't want to be his second choice.

"Marley, if you asked me the same question you asked me the other night, I wouldn't hesitate," He continues, his eyes are full of desperation and fear. Scared I might not believe him, "I'm done playing the part of the guy they wanted me to be for years. I don't want to be him anymore. I like the guy I am when I'm with you." He stands up, his voice low as he says. "I just want to be with you."

I don't say anything, mostly because I don't know what to say. He said everything I wanted him to say the other night. It seems too good to be true. Like at any minute, London's going to come up here, and he's going to chicken out. I want to be with Wyatt. I've known that for days now. If he'd proven me wrong the other night, we'd be together right now. The thought of being hurt again weighed at my heart. He hurt me one too many times now. I'm scared to open my heart up, only to have it broken again.

"Please say something?" Wyatt asks, fidgeting with the ring on his finger anxiously, "what are you thinking?"

"What about London?" I ask him, "she told me you were moving back into her place. Things seem real to her."

"London's been playing pretend her whole life," Wyatt scoffs, shaking his head, "her parents are actors, and when I met her, I thought she was this real, sweet girl. She only cares about one thing, and that's her image. She'd rather have some fake relationship that's all pictures and made-up stories over a real connection any day. Our relationship hasn't been real for ages, but neither of our management want it to end."

"I want to believe you," I tell him, which is true. There's nothing I want more than for Wyatt to prove me wrong, "but I can't let you hurt me again, Wyatt. My heart can't take it."

"And I don't want to hurt you." He tells me, "I'll go down there right now and tell her to leave. I will do anything to prove how much I care about you."

"One minute till midnight." Somebody yells before I can reply to Wyatt.

"You would do that?" I ask him, tilting my head to the side curiously. Wyatt nods. He looks so genuine, so desperate for me to believe him. "What about your management? Won't they be pissed?"

"They were," He nods, chuckling. Were? As in past tense, I furrow my brows at Wyatt, shaking my head, "I called them yesterday and fired them all. I quit my contract."

"W-what?" I ask him, biting my lip to suppress the smile that wanted to dance across my lips.

"Yeah," He shrugged, nonchalantly, smiling, "I've been trying to tell London, but she won't listen. I don't know if you could tell, but she isn't a great listener."

I think back to our conversation in the kitchen, nodding my head. She isn't going to take it well, not because she loves Wyatt, but because she loves being seen with him.

"Ten."

"Wyatt, why would you do all this?"

"Nine."

"Eight."

Wyatt shrugs, stepping closer, "like I said, I don't wanna be that guy anymore. I wanna figure out what I want."

"Seven."

"Any ideas?" I ask, taking a step closer too. My heart is beating rapidly, hope swelling through me.

"Six."

"Five."

Wyatt and I are now face to face, close enough that we're only a few inches apart, "I have a few."

"Four."

Wyatt glances between my eyes and my lips, raising his brow in a questioning manner. His lips are parted, merely waiting for me to say it's okay.

"Three."

"Two."

I nod, and that's all it takes for Wyatt to lean in. Our lips crash together just as the countdown ends. My hands fly up to cup his face while his snake their way around my waist, pulling me closer. His lips are soft, tasting faintly of the champagne he must have sipped on the way up. He kissed me slowly as if there was nothing he'd rather spend his time doing.

We press our foreheads against one another's once we finally pull apart to catch our breaths, "I have been wanting to do that for days now," He admits, moving one of his hands from my waist to tuck my hair behind my ear.

"I hope it was worth the wait," my voice is low, breathless. I keep my eyes closed, soaking in the moment. Absentmindedly, I draw circles along his cheek with my thumb,

"It definitely was," He chuckles. His breath tickles my face slightly.

I pull away slightly, my hands still on the side of his face. He was smiling, his head tilted as he looked at me. I've seen people get looked at the way Wyatt is looking at me. Sometimes, whenever Lizzie isn't looking, James looks at her like this with complete admiration. I never thought I'd find someone to look at me the same way.

"So, we're good?" Wyatt asks, "or do I need to beg some more?"

"Tempting," I hum, nodding my head as if I'm considering it, "I think we're okay, though. I uh, am willing to give you another chance."

Wyatt sighs, "you won't regret it." He tells me, pressing another kiss against my lips. This one is much swifter but filled with just as much love. I can feel Wyatt's lips twist into a smile, before he pulls away.  "So um, now that I am management free, I've been thinking."

"Oh, dangerous," I tap his temple, shaking my head as I move out of his arms, "what've you been thinking about?"

"Just about work stuff, there are plenty of jobs outside of LA," He shrugs, nonchalantly, "I was thinking of moving to New York City, figured the change of scenery would do me good."

"It's funny you mention that," I say. We step back away from each other slightly, "cause uh, I was considering moving back here for a bit... it's so hard finding a good roommate nowadays."

I'd have to tell my siblings; they'll be a little disappointed that we won't be seeing each other every single day. But they'll get it, I won't be alone anymore, and I won't have to give up my dream either. Things are looking up.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Wyatt questions, smirking.

"Yeah," I nod, my smile so big, my cheeks were starting to hurt, "Do you know any people that might be interested? Maybe London. She seems pretty cool."

"You're the worst," He rolls his eyes playfully, though I can tell he really thinks the exact opposite.

"Aw," I hold my hand over my heart, gasping, "that's so sweet. Thank you."

"So, is that a yes?" He asks, shaking his head amused. It seems that no matter our relationship status, I'll never let go of my newfound love of teasing Wyatt. I nod, causing Wyatt to wrap his arms around me again, pulling me in for a hug. I squeal slightly as he picks my feet off the ground, his hands squeezing my sides.

"Our families are going to freak," I tell him, laughing.

"In a good way? Or..."

"My siblings will threaten you," I nod. James and Harper especially, like myself, they'd take a bit to convince, "but they're just protective. Our moms will most likely cry. I think they've been dreaming of this their whole life."

Wyatt laughs, nodding his head. He moves his arms off of me, reaching over to grab the glasses of champagne. He hands me the fuller glass, "Happy New Year, Marley Chamber."

I clink my glass against his. This year was off to a much better thought than I thought it'd be.

"Happy New Year, Wyatt Oliver."