Sterling

"Please, Cee," Jared pleaded as Sterling watched him. "Just for a minute."

Sterling and Celeste lingered in place on the dance floor as Jared loomed at their side. Sterling looked at Celeste, watching as she studied her ex-boyfriend. Her brow folded up, and she pressed her lips together. He recognized that quirk—it was something Celeste would do whenever she was thinking about something really hard.

He held his breath and waited. He didn't understand why she didn't leap at the chance. This is what she wanted.

Wasn't it?

He had to admit, her hesitation did give him... hope.

Hope that she'd just realized that Jared wasn't worth her time.

Hope that she'd suddenly changed her mind about wanting him back.

Hope that she'd say no and send Jared away.

But, came a nasty little voice in the back of his head, why would she?

And then, Celeste spoke. "Alright," she said, finally. "We can talk. Just for a minute."

He exhaled and felt himself deflate.

For a second, she glanced at Sterling, almost as if she was gauging his reaction or asking if it was alright. But who was he to refuse? He wasn't really her boyfriend. So he gave her a nod and released her, offering his spot to Jared so he could dance with her. Once Jared pulled her away, Sterling turned away to give them privacy. He got off the floor and headed into the crowd.

He could really use a drink.

This is what she wanted. It was true, but it still hurt.

He made his way back to the main hall, where the bar was situated. He let out a groan when he saw the length of the line. It appeared that the whole town was thirsty. The line stretched down the hall, snaked past the stairs and trailed off into the parlour.

No drink then, Sterling thought. It wasn't what he really needed, after all. No, what he really needed was some quiet, a bit of peace where he could sort out his thoughts.

He walked alongside the crowded line to the bar, expertly maneuvering through the dense net of people until he'd reached the end of the hall. Beneath the grand staircase was a narrow little arch there that led into a small hallway. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to be here, but no one gave him a second look as he stepped through, so he figured it was fine.

The small hallway was dark and narrow, clearly not meant for guests.

At the far end, another archway led to a bright room with shiny white tile floors. He could hear the distant clatter of dishes and the clanking of pans—it was the kitchens, he guessed. Ahead, another narrow door opened off to the grand hall, and the sounds of music and conversation could be heard. And. directly to his left was an even narrower set of stairs that led upwards.

The stairs were dark and silent. It would be a perfect place to hide for a moment to collect his thoughts. He ducked in there, climbing only the first few steps to where they curved away.

He dropped himself down on the edge of the landing and raked his fingers through his hair, undoing all of Olly's careful styling. He didn't care anymore.

Tonight, something had shifted inside him, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it—what he did feel was stupid.

What had he even been thinking, agreeing to come to this damn party?

He was a fool.

Celeste had only ever wanted Jared back. That was the whole point they had even pretended to be together. So, what did it matter that she had gone off with him? That had been the plan—that had always been the plan.

But, still, it bothered him.

Why?

Because he liked her?

Because he thought, if only just for a second, that there might have been something between them?

Because he thought that she liked him, too?

There had been a moment during their dance when he thought she may have wanted him to kiss her... She had closed her eyes and leaned closer.

But then Jared came along.

Sterling clenched his hand into a fist. He wished he had something—or someone—to punch. But he wasn't that person anymore. He flexed his hand, releasing the fist, letting the muscles in his arm go loose.

He was an idiot.

Suddenly a tangle of muffled voices came close, closer than the din of the crowd. Sterling froze. He knew he wasn't supposed to be in this area and didn't want to be discovered. Not like this.

He inched further up the stairs, around the bend so that he was out of sight.

The voices weren't loud enough to make out what they were saying. They were close but whispering like they didn't want to be discovered either. It sounded almost like they were arguing. Or pleading. It was hard to tell which. It was all mostly one person doing the speaking, not letting the other person get a word in.

But then another voice chimed in, and Sterling's heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice, even in whispers.

Celeste.

"But you were always with her," he heard Celeste argue, her voice hard.

It was her. He peered around the bend in the stairs to confirm. It was definitely her and Jared. He could see the edge of them at the entrance that led off to the grand hall. He didn't think it was likely they could see him sitting on the dark stairs. There was enough hallway between them that, if he wanted, he could slip past and not be seen.

But he didn't want to. He fought the urge to lean closer. He felt a pang of guilt for eavesdropping, but he had to know how the conversation was going.

Against his better judgment, he slipped down the steps, inching closer to hear more..

As he got closer, he could see that Jared was standing very close to Celeste, gripping her hands. At the sight of it, Sterling's chest got tight like something was winding its way around his ribcage.

And then he heard it...

"I want you back, Celeste," Jared said.

He watched Celeste's eyes go wide.

"You shouldn't be with Sterling—you should be with me," Jared continued. "I'm the one that loves you, Cee. I love you."

This was it. This was what Celeste had been waiting for.

And just like that, the pressure in his chest got to be too much. It felt like it had been crushed. He turned away. He didn't want to hear anymore.

He slipped down the stairs and back down the hall towards the bar. They wouldn't have seen him go.

Back in the main hall, the party was as lively as ever. The line was a little shorter, and many people had their drinks, gathering in groups to sip at them. Sterling wove through, past the line at the bar heading for the door. He couldn't be here another second—

Someone grabbed his arm. He whipped around and shot his sharpest glare at whoever dared to touch him.

"Whoa, dude!" Olly cried from his spot in the line. He kept a hold on Sterling's arm. A few people turned to look but quickly averted their eyes at the sight of Sterling's scowl. "What's with the mean mug?"

Sterling dropped the glare and tried to shake Olly off, but Olly held tight. He was much stronger than most people assumed from this lithe form.

"It's nothing," Sterling muttered, still trying to get free.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Olly challenged, looking worried now. "Stay for a minute, will you? I'm just getting drinks for Alicia and myself, I can get something for you, too, and we can go somewhere to talk—"

"I don't want to talk," Sterling growled. "I don't have time."

"What? Why not?"

"I have to go, Olly," Sterling said, finally managing to free himself from his grip. "I'm sorry."

Olly's eyes went wide in horror. He knew him well enough to know that something wasn't right. "What do you mean 'go,' Sterling? Go where?"

"Anywhere but here," Sterling said, continuing on.

"No, no, you don't get to do that," Olly said, now stepping out of the line. The people behind him quickly filled his spot. "You don't get to just disappear again!"

So, Olly had caught on.

"I can't stay here," Sterling said, continuing to push through the crowd. "I can't."

"What about Alicia?" Olly said, following him. But the crowd was tight, and he was quickly falling behind. He had to talk louder and louder to be heard. "What about Christmas?"

Sterling didn't answer. He just kept going.

"What about Celeste?" Olly finally shouted at the top of his lungs over the heads of the crowd.

Sterling stopped dead. He turned and looked back at Olly. He wanted to say something, but he felt his face crumple. It all got stuck in his throat, blocked by the boulder-sized lump now lodged there. So instead, he just shook his head and pushed on through the crowd into the night.

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