CHAPTER TWO
[ 2 ]

There was a tension in the air that even Owen's mother, as oblivious she was, could pick up on. His father watched him like a hawk, watched the way he greeted each guest with a bow, and a soft smile.

But what Owen thought as comment courtesy, his father saw as a weakness. To him, A sharp nod sufficed as greeting enough.

"And you're doing well in school?" A partner of AureumTech asked over the loud music.

Owen leaned closer to hear him better. "I'm sorry?"

"School?" He repeated. "How is it going?"

"Very well." Owen nodded. "I have a 4.3 GPA and am on our varsity swim team. I also organize and host a few guys every month and we build computers together. We source all of our software from AureumTech and build the rest from—"

"He's not scouting for Yale, son. He just asked how school was going." His father stepped in, and shook the man's hand and greeted him. "Mr. Lee."

Owen inhaled sharply as he was subtly booted from the conversation, glancing around for somewhere else to spend his time.

His head hurt. His ears were clogged, like he'd gone up in an airplane and hadn't chewed gum. It was dark in the hall beside the few flashing lights from the DJ on stage, and the camera flashes off the black carpet.

He wanted to pull at the collar of his button up shirt, to loosen the hold it had on his throat and bring in some oxygen. But there were too many eyes on him. Almost everyone in this room worked for his father, and if they didn't, they at least knew him.

Which meant Owen couldn't risk a slip up. He couldn't risk another person muttering the words that 'Owen Kim isn't the CEO type'.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to see Sebastian and letting out a sigh of relief. "We're rescuing you." He says.

Owen glances down at his watch as Sebastian begins to pull him out of the crowd of businessman and over to his table. "I can't, I have to be with—"

"With who? Your parents?" Daphne asks, setting her phone down as Sebastian shoves Owen into the seat next to her. "I don't think they'll notice."

"Yeah." He rubs his eyes, exhausted. "I know."

Daphne sips the last of what was left in her martini. "Who wants another drink?" She asks. "Madeline? Sebastian?"

Madeline shakes her head, and Sebastian gives her a knowing nod that read as 'yes'.

"Great." Daphne says happily. "I'll have another martini."

Sebastian reluctantly stands from the table and walks to her. "I miss when it was three days ago and you were on the other side of the earth." He says, giving her a fake, forced hug from behind as she sat in the chair.

Daphne kissed his hand. "You love me."

As Sebastian walks away, Madeline leans in and whispers. "He told me earlier he has coke."

Daphne shrugs. "Everyone does."

"But here?" Madeline says, she looks over to Owen. "We can't go two hours without drugs?"

He leans on his hand lazily. "I sure can't."

Madeline shakes her head in disbelief. "How did we go from sneaking cigarettes from our parents on Thanksgiving to bringing coke to red carpet events?"

"Since this." Owen gestures to the facade surrounding them.

The lights, the cameras, the designer gowns. The throwing up your dinner so you'd fit in said designer gown. The bartenders willingly serving minors, because they knew the punishment for telling any of these kids 'no' would be far worse than getting fired. The hours spent making meaningless conversations with your parents colleagues just to save face. The going home with a random guy so you wouldn't have to go home at all.

—
song: let me go! by the volunteers

Madeline and Owen left the event earlier than they had to, meeting his driver outside and taking the car from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

"You've met Ruby, right?" Owen asks, as they step out of the car and onto the streets.

She wasn't sure if it actually smelt like sewage, or if the preparing herself ahead of time had tricked her brain. Music blasted from inside the club they were about to enter as they passed the line and walked straight up to the bouncer.

She felt a few glances in her direction as she adjusted her dress to cover her more, pulling it down in the back.

"Once, a really long time ago." Madeline responded with a yell over the music.

The bouncer opened the door for them, and they were both engulfed with the smell of sweat and beer, the rock music filling their ears and the bass thundering against their chests.

"Is this the right place?" She yelled, hesitant.

The crowd was certainly different. Not her usual choice of friends. Of course, she'd seen these styles walking around Chelsea. She'd assumed it was the FIT crowd. The midwesterners coming here for school, and thinking every fashion choice would be accepted in a city like New York. It wouldn't.

While Madeline was a native New Yorker, there was a limit to her acceptance of the 'out there'. Maybe that was a character flaw, or maybe that's how she's kept her social status for so long. Staying in her bubble, running with what she knew.

"Yeah, that's them." Owen gestures to the stage.

Madeline leans up on her toes to get a better look. Above the large crowd of sweaty fans, who were all pushing each other around and calling it dancing, stood Owen's older sister, Ruby, leading the band.

Ruby and Owen looked alike, but the difference in the way they held themselves could make you question if they'd ever even met.

Where Owen crossed his arms and closed in on himself, Ruby jumped, and threw herself around the stage, a bass guitar in her arms, and an enthusiastic smile on her face.

"It's really loud." Madeline commented, pointing to her ear.

Owen nodded, he didn't hear what she said.

She watched as Ruby sang. She had magenta highlights dispersed throughout her long black hair, and her eyebrows looked like they'd been bleached. Madeline looked to Owen to see if he was seeing what she was seeing, but he just nodded along happily to the beat, and smiled.

Her eyes trailed over to the guitarist. Tall, buzzed hair, a few tattoos that she could see. Little black drawings dispersed throughout his arms. He was more reserved than Ruby, he let her do most of the entertaining while he hung back and played the song.

He was cute, not much older than Madeline, assumedly. There was an endearing focus to his eyes, his stature. He nodded his head to the song, and every once in a while, when Ruby would dance her way over to his side of the stage with her bass, he would smile, and play with more force than he had before.

When the song ended. Ruby bent down and picked up a red cup from her feet, taking a big drink. "This is gonna be our last song for the night," she speaks into the mic after she swallows. "we've been Breeder, thanks for coming out and having fun with us."

Madeline was enamored. She was cool. Just smooth, and confident, and she held the eyes of every person in there, except for the guitarists'. His eyes were on Madeline.

She smiled at him, subtly, holding his attention for just a moment before returning it back to Owen. "We can go back to her green-room and see her when they're done." He says.

Madeline nods, following Owen through the bar, glancing up at the guitarist one more time.

The backstage was an unfinished, smelly, narrow hallway with stained carpet and walls that hadn't been touched up since it was built. One big fire hazard. Pushing past the sound guys, Owen opened the door into his sister's room and Madeline walked in.

Relief flood her ears, it was a lot quieter in here, and there was a couch. But it was a leather couch. An old one. With a big gaping hole in one of the cushions. And Madeline decided her feet didn't hurt that bad.

Owen grabbed a handful of chips from one of the open bags on the table beside him, before offering some to Madeline. "You can have anything." He says. "They won't care."

She shakes her head and declines. Glancing around the room, bare walls, the speckled ceiling with a brown water stain puddling in the corner, dead bugs finding their graves in the light fixture above her head.

Madeline clung her arms closer to herself. "You said your sister had a band but this wasn't really what I pictured." She said.

Owen nodded, taking a comfortable seat on the couch. "They're getting more popular. She said they might tour this year if they can get their streaming sales up."

"Right." Madeline nodded. "Do your parents—"

"Know?" Owen finishes her sentence. "Yeah. They know. But in their words, Ruby is 'too far gone' for them to do anything about it."

"Right." Madeline nods again.

"But I try and come to every show." Owen says. "Since she doesn't come home anymore I don't see her as much."

Madeline frowns. "I'm sorry."

Owen shrugs it off. "It's fine. I get why she wouldn't. Every time my mom sees her it's a new comment about why she wasn't married with three kids by now. Gets exhausting."

The door swung open, and their few moments of peace were interrupted as Ruby flooded inside. She put her arms up excitedly, a cup in one hand. "Little brotherrr!" She announces loudly, dragging out the word. She pulls Owen into a hug he almost falls over from, wrapping a tight arm around his neck. "Did you see that guy up at the front Who's this?" She looks up from Owen to Madeline.

He struggles to pull away from her hug, "Madeline. My friend from school."

"Oh, right, of course!" Ruby had dropped Owen and made her way over to Madeline, pulling her into that same hug. "So good to meet you."

Madeline was taken aback for a moment. "You too." She pulls away. "That was really cool. I didn't know you guys did shows like this."

"Like what?" Ruby asks, casually walking over to the snack table. "With a crowd? Yeah that's new as of three months ago. Played a show at NYU once and gathered some fans there, I guess. I don't know. Works for now." She spoke quickly. "Do you want some?" She tilted the bag of chips in Madeline's direction.

"No, thank you." Madeline responded.

"No thank you. So sweet. I love it." Ruby smiled. The door creaked open further and in came two other people.

The guitarist, and the drummer.

Madeline stepped out of their way, not sure where to put herself in such a small room.

"What's up, man?" The guitarist greeted Owen like an old friend, high-fiving him before pulling him into a quick hug.

"Good show tonight, guys." Owen responds.

"Thank you, thank you." The guitarist was out of breath. And sweaty. He walked over to the snack table and grabbed a water bottle. He turned to face the rest of the room as he took a sip, but he was looking at Madeline. "Hey." He said, casually.

Madeline smiled back, suddenly feeling very shy. "Hi."

"Guys this is Owen's friend from his rich kid school." Ruby says. "This is Dillon, and Sterling."

Sterling, the drummer, a lanky kid with a mop of bleach-blonde hair walked over to Madeline and shook her hand.

She laughed at the formalities, but shook it back happily. "Madeline. Hi."

The guitarist remained in his spot by the snack table.

"Didn't you also go to that rich kid school?" Sterling asked Ruby.

"For two years." She corrected. "Doesn't count. Do you guys want to watch the next set with us?"

Madeline realized she was asking her. "Oh. Owen?"

He nodded with a shrug. "Sure."

They'd gathered at the far end of the bar, surrounding a pool table as the other band played their set. Madeline sat and watched as Owen joined his sister in a game of pool, trying not to think about whatever sticky substances she was picking up with every step in her heels.

"Do you want a drink?" She heard someone ask, turning to see Dillon asking her from the bar.

Madeline hesitated, then nodded. "A cosmopolitan."

Dillon seemed to have gotten a kick out of that. Smiling first, then turning to the bartender and ordering for her. He returned with her drink in one hand, a beer in the other.

"Thanks." Madeline accepted it from him. She never had a cosmo in a plastic cup before.

"You're welcome." He spoke, as he took the seat beside her. "You're not on this side of the bridge very often are you?" He laughed.

Not in a demeaning way, like he was amused.

Madeline smiled. "What makes you say that?" A ridiculous question to ask, coming from the girl in custom Dior, who'd just ordered a cosmo at a dive bar.

He shrugged it off. "Where are you from?"

"Upper East Side." Madeline responds.

"Right." Dillon spoke, forgetting that part. "Constance Billard. Owen's friend."

"Right." She smiled.

"Just trying to make conversation." He admitted.

Madeline felt a flush in her cheeks, and with that, her eyes trailed down to his arms. Knowing fully well what she was doing, she scoot closer to him and gently pointed to the tattoos on his arms. "You know those things are permanent, right?"

Dillon watched her carefully, a tug on the side of his lips that lifted into a smile. "Are they?"

"Mhm." Madeline nodded with a pursed lip, cheeky smile. "Could get you into some trouble."

His eyes stayed on hers. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Dillon, you in?" Sterling asked, offering him the pool stick.

Dillon leaned away for a moment, taking a sharp breath. "Uh—" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No I'm good. Gonna step outside."

Madeline felt herself fill with disappointment as Dillon got to his feet. She'd actually enjoyed that short interaction. It was fun. And she needed a bit of fun, she'd deprived herself of it for too long.

"Do you smoke?" Dillon asked her, and she looked up.

"No." Madeline said. "But I'll come with."

He smiled, impressed, nodding to the backdoor. As Madeline followed him in that direction, she sent Owen an excited glance. To which he pretended not to understand what that meant.

Dillon held the door for her, ducking under his arm as she stepped back into the dark street. She glanced around both ways, the party seemed to carry on outside of the club.

He leaned up against the brick wall and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. "So." He starts, before lighting it.

Madeline admired the way the small flame illuminated the delicate curves of his face. His strong nose and jaw, light eyes.

"You like cosmopolitans, you don't smoke. What else?" He asks, pulling the cigarette from his lips and blowing out a puff of smoke to the side.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the opposite wall across from him. "Hm." She smiles as she thinks. "I play tennis."

Dillon seemed intrigued. "Tennis?"

"Mhm." She said.

"You any good?"

She shrugs casually. "Good enough to play in charity matches every few months. Played a match against Elena Rybakina once. I lost, but," she got out a small laugh. "I got a few points in."

"Damn." Dillon nodded.

"What about you?" Madeline responds. "How long have you known Ruby?"

He thinks for a moment. "Met her a few years ago. I played for a few different bands for a summer as a stand-in, she came to one of those shows and asked if I wanted to start a band. And it turns out we had a lot in common, so, yeah. It just worked." He scratches his eyebrow with his thumb.

Madeline listens. Dillon spoke with a unique confidence she wasn't used to. It wasn't arrogance, or pride. He just seemed truly content with himself.

The backdoor opened and a few drunken concert-goers stumbled out, the loud music filling the outdoors for just a second until the door shut again.

Dillon moved out of their way as they squeezed past, and in the process spoke to Madeline. "Do you want to walk?"

She shrugged, and nodded.

Where usually Madeline would find walking the streets of Brooklyn with a stranger seemed like a perfect recipe for scandal, it barely crossed her mind.

They slowly walked side by side, past the old brick buildings, a perfect view of Brooklyn Bridge ahead of them, the sparkling lights of Manhattan serving as its backdrop.

"...yeah, I mean, it's a little frivolous, but it's actually fun most of the time. But I've only gone as a guest before. This year I'll be an actual Debutante." Madeline says. "So maybe being on the inside is a little more pressure."

"So you're..." Dillon was trying to follow. "It's your introduction to society?"

"Yeah. Escorts, fancy dresses, choreographed dances." She shrugs, suddenly feeling embarrassed. That something that was so highly regarded in her world could be seen as ridiculous to the cool guitarist she'd just met. "It's a little outdated."

He shrugged like it was no big deal. "No, it sounds fun."

Madeline inhaled sharply, feeling a water droplet on her arm and glancing upwards. "Is it supposed to rain tonight?"
She went to check the weather on her phone, instead she found texts from her mother asking her where she was, and why her location wasn't on.

There was a spurt of anxiety that graced her chest, but she forgot all about it when Dillon spoke.

He was looking at his own phone. "Yeah, it's supposed to storm in like ten. Shit. Are you—"

She was a bit frazzled, glancing down at her expensive shoes, knowing she hadn't even called her driver yet. "Yeah, no. I—"

"You can come wait it out at my place, if you want. It's like right around the corner."

Madeline looked at him, hesitant to speak as she analyzed his words. "How many times have you pulled that card?" She asked cheekily.

Dillon got out a laugh. "Never. Promise. We can just hang in the lobby, if you—"

Maybe it was naive to believe him, but it was starting to rain harder. "No, yeah— let's just go these shoes are brand new." She says, as she watches the rain begin to puddle up around her feet.

"Here." Dillon spoke, and Madeline turned to see him turned around and crouched over, insinuating he wanted her to get on his back.

She laughed, "Wow, thanks."

"No, I'm serious." He gestured towards his back, then laughed. "Get on."

Madeline looked around, weighing her options on whether or not that was completely ridiculous, or sweet.

"You're not kidding?" She spoke.

Dillon shook his head, and let out another breathy laugh. "New shoes. Very important we get those home safely."

Madeline felt her cheeks begin to burn from how long she'd held her smile. "Okay," She gave up, and climbed onto his back.

Dillon started walking, and with that, Madeline tried to stifle her laughs.

"Oh my god!" Madeline exclaimed, as the rain suddenly got heavier and heavier. She was completely drenched, watching the rain under the streetlights blow rapidly in the wind.

Not once did the idea of paparazzi snapping a picture of her cross her mind, and with it, neither did the repercussions she'd face if her parents saw her out this late with some boy they didn't know.

If only for a few moments, Madeline Van der Bilt didn't feel like her last name. She was just Madeline, Owen's friend from school.

"Got the door?" Dillon asks, as he bent down and had Madeline pull it open.

"Yup." She says, as he brings her inside, and lowers her back to the floor.

She held her stomach as she laughed, they were both entirely soaked from the rain. He rung out his shirt, then shook the water from his hair. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed through her laughs.

Dillon shook his head at her, like he wasn't sure why he was apologizing. "I would've walked home anyway."

Madeline nodded, looking around at this 'lobby' he mentioned. It was a small stairwell, with a few mailboxes on the wall, and a plant in the corner.

It thundered outside after a crack of lightning the street for just a split second. "I better let Owen know where I am." Madeline spoke, trying to dry off her phone to text him.

"You're freezing." Dillon noticed.

Madeline shook the shiver off of her. "Oh, I'm fine."

"I can get you dry clothes." Dillon says, beginning to make his way up the stairwell.

"Oh, no, don't. It's totally fine. I'll survive."

"I'm the reason you got stuck in the rain." Dillon said. "You can just bring them back at our next show."

Madeline felt herself following him up the stairs, though she wasn't sure that she should. Maybe part of her wanted to find out what would happen if she did.

"Is that an invitation?" Madeline asked.

Dillon shrugged. "If you didn't think we were too bad." He glanced at her as he lead her upstairs.

Madeline looked at him, intrigued. "I didn't."

He slid open a large iron door a few flights up, revealing one big room. Exposed pipes, old factory windows, wooden pillars dispersed throughout. While it wasn't in Madeline's taste, it was kept-up well. New, unique light fixtures added in. Modern art hung on the walls. There was even enough room for their band to practice, a drum-set and a few amps in the corner atop a persian rug.

"Wow." Madeline says, stepping inside after him.

Dillon walked over to where his bed sat by the window, opening up a drawer. "Yeah, it's—" Dillon starts. "It's my mom's old studio, I moved in a few years ago. Rent-controlled. Doesn't have too many problems. Besides—" Dillon sighs, gesturing to a pipe in the ceiling that was beginning to drip water. "—that."

Madeline quickly made her way to the kitchen and showered the cabinets for a bowl of sorts to hold it.

"Left cabinet above the sink." Dillon hollered.

Madeline grabbed the biggest bowl she found and made her way over to the spot the water was falling. "Your mom's an artist?"

He shrugged. "Was. She passed away when I was fifteen. Cancer."

She frowned. "I'm sorry."

He nodded as he made her way over to her with folded up clothes in his arms. "It's alright. She'd been sick for a while."

Madeline accepted the clothes. "Were you two close?"

Dillon scratched his eyebrow with his thumb again, and thought for a moment.

"I'm sorry, that's—" She shook her head quickly, embarrassed.

"No, no." He waved it off. "Yeah, we were." After a moment of silence, Dillon pointed over to the only other walls in the loft. "The bathroom's in there."

She nodded, holding up the clothes, "Thanks."

Dillon watched as Madeline made her way into the bathroom, and as soon as the door shut, he quickly made his way over to his couch. Picking up all the stray laundry and throwing it in the basket by his bed. Then taking the dirty dishes left on his glass coffee table, and dropping them in the sink.

Madeline had a bit of edge that intrigued Dillon. She wasn't quite what Dillon expected of a Constance Billard girl. She wasn't uptight, wasn't prissy, wasn't rude.

But she looked familiar. So familiar. And he couldn't quite place it.

"All good?" He spoke, as he tossed the last of what he considered a 'mess' behind his bed to hide it.

"Yeah, I—" Madeline spoke, then opened the bathroom door. Her arms were tangled up being her, "I can't get this zipper."

Dillon waited for her to approach him, not wanting to come off as too eager. But the girl just turned and stood in front of him casually.

"I think it's stuck on something." She said.

He was hesitant, admittedly. There were few instances that Dillon felt he was on a level playing field with girls. With everyone he'd dated, they were enamored with his status in the band and it was him that did most of the leading. But Madeline could keep up with him, and he liked being kept on his toes.

"How many times have you pulled this card?" Dillon asked, his fingertips grazing the back of her neck as he tried the zipper himself.

Madeline smiled, her eyes finding the ground. "I only use it on special occasions."

"Right." Dillon hummed, as he unlatched the zipper from the little hook at the top of the dress, and pulled it down. "There."

Madeline turned around and smiled up at him. A soft smile, sweet, curious. She was suddenly so close. "Thanks." She said.

Dillon was so enamored with her. He had been the entire night. She had become such an anomaly to him in such a short amount of time.

He felt himself pulled closer towards her, if only for the fact that it seemed she was leaning in herself. But then she spoke.

"My driver's here." Madeline twirled.

Dillon quickly leaned back, sucking in on his teeth and nodding slyly. "Your driver."

"Mhm." She spoke confidently, stepping back into the bathroom.

Dillon couldn't see her, but she'd kept the door open as she changed.

"I didn't even get a chance to offer you something to eat." He spoke aloud.

Madeline poked her head around the doorway, fluffing her curly hair outside of the hoodie he'd given her. "You've got still got time."

Dillon smiled, sitting down on his couch and rubbing his forehead. "I have cereal. And some uncooked rice. And an assortment of Little Debbie cakes."

"Star Crunch?" He heard Madeline reply.

"Of course."

"I'll take one for the road."

Madeline came out from the bathroom, dress and shoes in hand. Smiling, suddenly shy, in the doorway. Dillon got to his feet quickly and walking to his kitchen.

She was joking about the Star Crunch. But she accepted it from him happily. "Thanks." She spoke.

Dillon nodded. "Sorry about your clothes."

She shrugged like it was nothing, as she walked past him and to the iron door. "I'll probably never wear it again anyway."

"Can I walk you to the car?" He asked, remaining in his spot at the loft.

She shook her head. "I'll be fine."

He knew his time with Madeline for the evening was fleeting. But for a moment, he feared that meant it wasn't only for the evening.

"Maybe I'll see you at your next show." Madeline spoke, waving to him as she pushed open the door, and slipped out to the stairwell.

He was suddenly panicked, wondering where all of his usual poise had gone. He was left almost dumbfounded as he lingered in his spot, wondering if that interaction was as exciting to her as it was to him.

He paced, even if for just a moment, before making his way to one of the windows of his loft, twisting the handle and pushing it open.

The rain was loud against the glass as he leaned his head out, but he caught Madeline just in time as she stepped out from the building and to her driver, who had an umbrella waiting.

"Hey, Madeline!" Dillon called out over the rain.

The girl looked up, eyes bright.

He took a breath. "Let me take you out sometime."

Madeline paused, her heart racing as she met Dillon's gaze through the rain. For a moment, she was caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. But she smiled, a flicker of anticipation dancing in her chest. "I'd like that." She replied back, before disappearing into the warmth of the car,

As she stepped into the car, the rain pattering softly against the window, Dillon's words lingered in her mind. A rush of excitement and uncertainty washed over her, a feeling she hadn't had in what felt like forever. Her life was so perfectly planned out for her. Every outfit, every event. She had the next five years organized to a T, and this evening wasn't part of it.

But Madeline couldn't help but smile as she watched the city lights blur past, knowing that this had all somehow opened a door to a world beyond the confines of her own.