| CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
| everyone dances

ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ

"Excuse me, can we talk?" someone asked me, a hand very lightly placed on my lower arm. It took me a while to react, as I was stuck staring at my phone with a smile on my face. My mom kept her promise and let me have my phone again, and apparently I had no self control.

"Oh, yeah, of course," I said. "Let me just..."

I turned back to my phone, sending Oakley a quick reply.

Oakley:
Maybe I should go as a mailbox to receive all the early birthday wishes

You:
As much as I'd love that, I really want to see you dressed in something other than a hoodie or a t-shirt

Oakley:
A mailbox is not a t-shirt!

You:
You know what I mean, surprise me x

I'd noticed that even in special events, he tended to go dressed in a simple pair of jeans with a sweatshirt or t-shirt. The only time I'd seen him wear anything differently was his graduation picture on Instagram.

"It's something private," Riley said, but I just nodded. I assumed they'd consider me for another role, or perhaps the adaptation of the spin-off to this book, but things got weird when we got to my trailer and they started pacing around the little space there was.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," they said, frowning like I'd just said something ridiculous. "Yeah, why?"

I sat down on the chair, and they followed my example, dropping the 'cool' act again.

"You know Kylan pretty well, don't you?"

"I guess so," I said, recalling when Kylan told me about, in his words, 'having to suck Riley's dick' for his part. It wasn't my business, but I did wonder what exactly had been going on, and I was getting the feeling that I was about to find out.

"I'm getting these horrible mixed signals from him."

"Mixed signals?"

"Yeah, you know? He's like... I can't. I'm sorry. I don't know what I can say without like..." They already got up, ready to leave, and I wanted to stop them, but I didn't know what I could tell them either. As much as I hated Kylan, I couldn't out him to anyone, not even to another queer person.

They paused at the door, standing there for a few seconds too many to be normal. My guess was that they knew that too, which was likely why didn't didn't turn around to talk to me again. Instead they were talking at the door.

"Let's say... hypothetically speaking, that I like him. Like, romantically. Sexually. Would it be possible for him to like me in that way too?"

"W— why would you ask me that?" Did something give it away?

Only now did they turn around, but I knew that with my lying skills, one look at me would confirm their thought, so I averted my gaze to my shoes.

"Did he ever try something on you?"

Maybe they didn't know after all. All this subtle talking bullshit was confusing both of us.

"Maybe you should leave. Kylan and I aren't friends, we've never been friends, and we'll never be friends." My voice had stabilized, and I was proud of myself for a solid few seconds before they spoke again.

"Look, there's only two options when it comes to you," they said. "Either I can trust you, and you and Kylan had a thing that ended badly. Or I can't trust you, and you hate him for something he can't help, something you only figured out by accident."

"Kylan—"

My sentence got cut short immediately.

"At first I thought it was the latter, with some weird fetish for lesbians. But then Mylo told me you've been correcting people on my pronouns for the last two months."

I couldn't just not correct everyone. And of course it was Mylo who told Riley.

"I'm not trying to put you on the spot here. I had math in high school, that age gap was iffy. He's still sending me mixed signals. It must've not been easy."

"I'm really trying to stay out of this," I said. He was going to kill me if he found out about this conversation. He would actually murder me.

"Please. Do you think he'd like me?"

None of this was making sense. They were asking me, even though they'd already figured out Kylan and I had not been in a healthy relationship. They were asking me, the guy Kylan had probably explained broke him. Why were they asking me for advice?

"You know he likes you when he treats you like shit. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"If he likes me, then why does he treat me like that?"

"Whenever he likes someone, he's not in control. He hates that. Therefore he hates you. Until he doesn't and teats you like you're made of sapphire. And the cycle continues."

Love bombing, guilt tripping, gaslighting repeat. In an unlucky week, he'd maybe manage to sneak in some assault too. I couldn't understand how Riley could even like him, but they probably hadn't seen that side of him yet.

"He will hurt you," I warned them. Maybe in ten years from now would he not be as dangerous, but although he hadn't injured me in the time we've been working on this movie, he did find ways to torture me, primarily mentally.

"Not everyone can have the perfect romance," they said.

This was the most ridiculous conversation I had ever had.

"Thank you. I owe you," they said with a grin. A grin, after I told them Kylan would hurt them.

None of your business, I reminded myself. I had my own romance to worry about. Oakley, his birthday present, my Halloween costume, and somehow ditching Mylo and Maria while there.

What Kylan and Riley did to each other was their problem.

•••

"I've never been to a party like this before," Maria said, adjusting her hair in her phone camera.

"Nervous, I see?" Mylo teased her with a grin, trying to get in the frame of her phone. She took a picture, and then she pulled on my shirt to get me into it too.

"How many have you been?" she asked, but she didn't specify whether she meant parties in general, or these elaborate Hollywood parties.

"I've only ever been to high school ones," I said. Not that I'd consider those mild.

"You went to a private school, didn't you?" Mylo asked, and I nodded. "Explains the body count."

Maria hit him in the arm, and it made a loud thud noise. "You're still hung up on that?"

"Ow! I mean, look at him. He's a baby. He declined weed from Kylan the other day. But you do drink, don't you?"

"Mylo, you really need to learn about boundaries," Maria said, hitting him again.

"And you need to stop hitting me. Jeez," he said, rubbing the spot on his arm.

"We're there," I said. Gen's driveway was full with cars. And loud music was already playing from the speakers.

"Oh my god," Maria said. "I think I just saw Leo Campbell."

"How did you recognize him?" Mylo asked, looking around to look for the guy.

"I would recognize him in a clown costume. I used to have a poster of him on my wall when I was little."

"Oh my god, he's the King of Hearts?"

I followed their gaze to who was indeed the King of Hearts, dressed in a renaissance-like outfit, except he wore nothing under the coat. Instead a bunch of hearts and kisses were drawn across every visible part of his body.

I must've zoned out while staring, because I hadn't noticed Maria physically dragging me to the house until he was out of sight.

"Hey, you think we're underdressed?" Mylo asked. "I'm a vampire but you can't tell unless I smile," he said, smiling broadly to reveal two fangs.

"I like it," Maria said. "It's like you're one of those vampires trying to blend in with the humans."

I looked around once again, but I didn't see Oakley yet, so I pulled out my phone to text him, but apparently he'd already texted me.

Oakley:
I'll be in the kitchen

"I'm gonna go to the kitchen," I announced to Mylo and Maria.

"Wait, we're gonna need drinks and we don't know where the kitchen is," Mylo said.

"Right. It's this way," I said, leading the way through the mass of people dancing and yelling over the music.

"How well do you know her?" Mylo asked once we got to a quieter hallway.

"Not that well," I admitted. I'd met with her a total of three times, and she texted me a few times while Oakley was away to ask if I'd heard from him. "The kitchen is here," I said once we'd finally reached it. The kitchen was packed with people pouring drinks, but even after a quick scan of the room, I didn't find Oakley.

Maria was already grabbing three cups and poured in almost every liquid in the table.

"Here," she said, handing me a cup with her concoction. I drank all of it at once, letting the drink burn its way down my throat.

"Wait, try this one," Mylo said, handing me something else.

"What's this?"

"You need to tell me which one was better."

"Not everything is a competition, Mylo."

"To me it is, Maria."

I drank it anyway, and it was absolutely horrific. It tasted the way you'd imagine a scented hand sanitizer would taste like.

"That was fucking disgusting," I admitted, and he scowled at me.

"Wait, let me try again—"

"We've been here for five minutes and you're already feeding him drunk. What's wrong with you?"

"Nolan is from a Hollywood private school and already admitted to having a body count of fifteen. He can hold his liquor."

"Why are you so hung up on those fifteen? It's like you're obsessed with it," Maria said again, and it was like the conversation in the car all over again.

"Because he's like a cute little kid."

"I'm gonna go find my friend," I said. I wanted to find Oakley before either of us would be too drunk to have a normal interaction.

"We could stick together though, can't we? I'd like to meet your friend. The only famous person I know is well... you. And Kylan," Mylo said.

"Maybe, if I can find him," I said, pulling out my phone again.

You:
I can't find you

Oakley:
Then look harder

I looked around once again, this time paying close attention to everyone in the room. Two women were dressed as cats in tight vinyl outfits, laughing loudly about how they were matching. A man dressed in a prisoner's jumpsuit handed a shot to a lady in an expensive looking dress.

"You must be a bat, because you're sure as hell blind as one," a voice said from behind me. I smiled and turned around, finally seeing him. His hair was smoothed back so the curls only really came out at the bottom, and he was dressed in a full leather outfit in baby blue. I looked him up and down, multiple times, because I did not want to forget what he looked like in this.

"You're that lead singer from the Melodicks! What's it... Billy Moreci?" Maria said.

Oakley nodded, taking out a pair of bright orange triangle shaped sunglasses and putting them on. Only then I recognized his costume.

"Oh my god, of course you'd choose some music related costume," I said. He had to dress like this more often and I was going to make it my life's mission.

"You'd rather had me dressed as another vampire?"

Maria and I looked at Mylo who scowled at him.

"Not cool," he said.

Realization only now hit Oakley and he spoke again. "I meant like one of those," he said, pointing at a man who'd face painted himself a solid white, wore a large black and red cape and had fake blood dripping from his lips. "You remind me of that guy from that vampire show... Erythrophile I think?"

"I think you mean Drascus!" Maria said. "He's hot."

"You think I look hot?"

"I think all three of you do. But Billy Moreci here outshines both Drascus and this... darker haired Nolan?"

"I'm Rapunzel," I said. "After she cut her hair."

I was honestly too late to come up with anything, so I had the hair stylist on set put some temporary dye in it and hoped my green eyes would sell it, along with the little stuffed lizard taped to a purple jacket I wore to prom.

"You know, the fact that you chose Rapunzel over Tarzan makes it better."

"I didn't feel like coming here half naked."

"Your body count tells me otherwise."

"Mylo," Maria hissed. Now that Oakley was literally standing right next to me, I was speechless, my face heating up. I didn't necessarily want to keep it a secret from him, but he also wasn't supposed to know that.

"You promised me you weren't a serial killer," Oakley said, but I couldn't deny seeing a muscle in his face twitch as he smiled, revealing just a small bit of disappointment.

"I- I'm not." It felt like I had to defend myself. That I would have to justify what I did. But there was no reason.

"Let's go dance," he said, holding onto my hand and pulling me towards the hallway.

"I don't dance," I told him.

"Everyone dances, Nolan."

The music began to get louder again, and the closer we got to the sound, the more people there were standing around.

Once we reached the mass of people dancing, laughing, drinking, he grabbed both my hands and started swaying around. To my surprise, he wasn't very good either, judging by the way we'd only been 'dancing' for ten seconds and he'd already stepped on my toes twice.

"Sorry," he said in my ear so I could hear him over the loud sound system. I smiled, and we continued dancing in little circles in the dense crowd.

I looked around, but we must've lost Mylo and Maria as I couldn't see them anymore.

"You know this song?" he asked me. I could tell if heard it before, but I couldn't say I knew it.

"It's familiar," I told him. It wasn't upbeat, but it wasn't slow. It was kind of nice to sway around to, without thinking too much.

"Close your eyes," he said, already turning me around and putting his hands over my eyes. My body heat up at having him stand so closely behind me. "Just listen to it," he said in my ear. His breath hit the shell of my ear, and I had to really focus to not do something impulsive like turn around and kiss him right then and there. His voice really did have something magical about it, something that made it particularly pleasant to listen to.

"You're not listening," he said. I nodded, and finally started listening. I stood still, listening as the song built up to the chorus. Harmonies stacked on top of other harmonies, and then the chorus came and everything stripped down to a single voice and the background was more enhanced. The single voice kept flickering in and out, like someone was getting lost in the music all the instruments were making.

Oakley turned me around again and held both my hands, and we started dancing again. Dancing had never felt this nice before. Not without him pressed against me, with everyone too deep in their own world to pay attention to us.

"You should dress like this more often," I said, pulling at the fabric of the jacket lightly. His dimple appeared as he forced a smile on his lips.

"I'm a little uncomfortable," he admitted. "I feel like everyone's staring at me."

I looked around, but as I'd noticed before, everyone was stuck in their own world. Most were at least drunk, many were stoned, and many were high.

"I'm the only one staring," I said, letting my eyes wander up and down once more. "Do you want to leave?"

"Leave to go where?"

I smiled. "To get a room."

He seemed confused, but just as I was about to clarify, we were called, somehow loudly enough to hear over the music.

"Nolan, Oakley!" A voice called. It was Genevieve, talking up to Oakley and me with her arms wide. She first hugged Oakley, and squeezed him so tightly it looked like he was suffocating.

"Hey," I said, waving at her awkwardly, but she also squeezed me tightly. I was right; it was suffocating. She smelled like liquor and perfume, a very nice one. It was flowery and subtle, but she must've put a lot of it on.

"Rapunzel?" she asked. I grinned, she recognized my costume. "You look beautiful. But Pascal really sold it."

"Thank you," I said. "You look absolutely stunning too, Ariel."

"Oh my god, yeah, we're both Disney princesses! Sisters!"

"Right, enough Disney princess bonding. Nolan and I were actually busy dancing," Oakley said.

"Yeah, of course," she said, turning around and grabbing a few beers from someone's hands—Oakley's bassist, Danny?

"Gen!" he squealed. "They're underage!"

"Rapunzel is from Germany, Billy Moreci was British, so they're both technically off age. They'll be fine," she said, handing us the two bottles of beer. "Not getting caught is your own responsibility. And drink responsibly!" she said as Danny pulled her away.

"You still wanna leave?" he asked me.

"Too late, I've started enjoying myself," I said, drinking from the beer I'd just been given. He smiled and nodded.

"Okay, then we'll keep dancing."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I needed to give Kylan an actual life so bippity-boppity-boo 🤩 I did it. One life for Kylan Madden.