chapter 58: trash

Mika POV:

Tomorrow, we were off to Hawaii. The past few days had been a whirlwind of getting things in order for the trip, but it was finally happening.

Andrew, despite being completely swamped, had somehow pulled everything together to come with me. He'd been putting in long hours, working non-stop for days, just to make sure he could leave work behind when we're in Hawaii. He still needed to finish some projects he couldn't put off, but luckily, Bose had already stepped in and offered to take over his work—both for Andrew and for me, sparing us any last-minute fires we couldn't put out ourselves.

As grateful as I was, I still had a mountain of things to get done before we left, so today, Andrew and I were out in Rivalton, racing through a list of last-minute errands and grabbing all the things we'd need for the trip. Even though he'd been so focused on his own work, he'd dropped everything to help me wrap up mine too, and just having him there made the whole list feel a little less overwhelming.

We made our way through the mall, weaving between other shoppers, catching glimpses of travel items, snacks, and clothes we might need for the beach.

As we strolled through the main corridor, I noticed two girls walking past us. They gave us a strange, lingering look, their expressions unreadable, but I didn't think much of it.

Then I noticed Andrew's gaze flicker to them, his face tensing for a split second before he looked away and grabbed my hand.

I felt his grip tighten around my hand, which was unusual for him.

Come to think of it, we've never even have held hands like this before.

A small flare of curiosity grew inside me. I nudged him gently. "Do you know them?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

"Don't look," he murmured, guiding me forward a little faster. "Just keep walking."

Now I was really curious. "Why?" I pushed, not willing to drop it.

After a pause, he leaned close and whispered, "That was my ex... and her friend." My eyes widened slightly. This was the ex he'd mentioned once before—the one who had given his little sister Lily a hard time. I'd never expected to actually run into her.

"That ex?" I kept my voice low. "The one who was mean to Lily?"

He nodded, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. She's, uh... let's just say she's not exactly stable." His face hardened as he spoke, like he was bracing himself. "She's the kind of person who'll do anything to get back at me, just to make herself feel better. Manipulative, you know?"

I couldn't help but frown, wanting to understand more. "What exactly happened with her?"

Andrew sighed, as if he'd been hoping I wouldn't ask for details. "I don't want to sound pathetic or anything, but... she cheated on me with my old friend and she made me feel like I was the problem. Whenever she'd come home late, all drunk at three in the morning, I'd ask her to slow down, you know, for her own good. But she'd twist it around and accuse me of being controlling." He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips.

I looked at him, trying to piece it all together. "Why'd you stay so long?"

His shoulders slumped slightly. "I didn't know any better. She had me wrapped around her finger, convinced that she was right, and I was... I don't know, just not good enough. But, hey..." His expression softened as he looked at me. "Don't worry about her, okay? I know you won't let her get to you."

I smirked, determined not to let anyone ruin our day. "No chance."

We wandered the mall for a bit longer before deciding to split up. Andrew had promised Lily he'd get her a specific Barbie set for her birthday next month, and the toy store was right next to the bookstore where I wanted to browse. "I'll meet you in there," he said with a grin before heading off toward the toy aisle.

Once inside the bookstore, I let myself relax, searching the shelves and skimming through titles. But before long, I felt someone's presence behind me. I turned around to find two girls staring at me, their expressions filled with disdain. I quickly realized they were the same two who had given us that weird look earlier.

One of them, a blonde with an all-too-familiar smirk, folded her arms and gave me a dismissive once-over. "Well, well, well... so this is Andrew's new side piece."

I stared at her for a moment, too taken aback to be offended. "Excuse me?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

She huffed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Trust me, you won't last a month with him."

I couldn't help it; I laughed, shaking my head. "I don't know what you're talking about. We've already lasted two and a half months, so I think I'm doing just fine, thanks."

Her smirk faltered for a second, but she quickly regained it, crossing her arms tighter. "You know, he used to tell me I was the only one for him. That he'd never love anyone like he loved me."

I held back another laugh, my face growing serious. "Is that something he actually told you? Or maybe just something you keep telling yourself every night to keep your own gaslighting skills sharp?"

She glared, but her friend chimed in, "Did you see how he looked at her when we walked past?"

"Yeah," I replied, feigning sympathy. "Probably because he was horrified by the looks you were giving him."

The friend snickered. "Actually, we were giving it to you."

"Doesn't make it any less horrifying," I shot back. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to shopping without being harassed."

The blonde smirked. "Mika, right?"

I turned back, frowning. "Yeah, so you've done your little research?"

"Oh, probably not as much as research you've done on me."

I laughed. "I didn't even know you existed until about five minutes ago. Now, please, leave me alone."

She stepped forward and gave me a little shove, clearly trying to get a rise out of me. My voice sharpened as I said, "Touch me again, and I'll make sure you leave."

They both laughed, but I focused my energy, aiming a subtle, invisible burst of air their way with the tiniest blow. They stumbled back, clearly off balance, which only made me stifle a grin. Over the years, I'd learned to use my superscream in more subtle ways, and this little "push" was one of my favorites.

Just as they regained their balance and started hurling threats again, Andrew appeared. "Both of you—leave. Now."

His ex's attitude shifted instantly, and she batted her lashes, inching closer to him. "Oh, come on, Andrew, don't pretend like you don't miss me or don't love me anymore."

He shook his head, his tone cold. "I loved Mika more the day I met her than I ever loved you in three years. I don't think I've ever loved you at all, so you're nowhere even near Mika."

She tried to laugh it off, but her expression faltered as she eventually walked away with her friend. Andrew sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead as if warding off a headache.

I raised an eyebrow. "I could've handled it, you know."

He gave me a small smile. "I know. But it's my fault they approached you. I wanted to get rid of her."

I turned to him, changing the subject while crossing my arms. "That was uhm... quite a confession you made there."

His eyes were warm. "Well, now you know." he said just like that, with that casual little smile that always seemed to break down all my defenses.

There was a softness in his gaze, something so honest that I felt my heart skip. "You really have loved me since the first day you saw me?" I asked, barely able to contain my smile.

He chuckled softly, stepping closer, his gaze locked on mine. "When I first saw you—no, even just talked to you on the phone—that was it. I noticed you were annoyingly perfect and I'd never stand a chance."

His words felt like they reached straight to my heart, and I couldn't hold back a smile. "You're really going all in on your charm today, aren't you?" I said, half teasing, though I felt a little breathless.

He laughed, his hand lifting just slightly, fingers brushing over mine in a slow, gentle touch. "It just slips out around you."

I looked down, trying to keep my cool but feeling my face warm. His hand fit around mine like it was meant to be there, steady and warm, and my fingers curled around his without thinking. "Well," I murmured, "good thing I don't mind."

He grinned, his thumb brushing gently across my knuckles, like he was savoring the moment. "Guess that makes me the luckiest guy around."

I felt a flutter in my chest, like he'd wrapped me up in a warm embrace without even moving. "You know, you're not so bad yourself," I whispered back, "I'm a little lucky too."

He leaned down a little but still hovered over me, coming in closer. "Only a little?" he murmured, his voice low, like it was just for me.

I gave him a small smile, "Alright, maybe a lot."

Miles POV:

I pulled up outside Blaise's place, the car idling as I checked the time. Our flight was in a few hours, and she had yet to appear. After a minute, her front door swung open, and Blaise poked her head out, her hair half-done, eyes wide. "I'm not ready yet. Just come in and wait a sec," she called, waving me inside. I smiled, grabbed my bag, and followed her in.

Once inside, she motioned to the living room. "Give me, like, ten more minutes, I swear. I'm double-checking everything."

I nodded, dropping onto the couch and glancing around, taking in her family photos and all the little knick-knacks spread around. It felt cozy—lived-in. Then her younger sister, Sadie, wandered in, eyeing me curiously. She hesitated, then asked, "So... are you and Blaise, like, together?"

I nearly choked on my laugh. "No, no, not at all. We're just friends."

Sadie squinted, clearly unconvinced. "I asked Blaise, too, but she said the same thing, and I dunno... it just seems weird. Boys don't pick up girls for trips to Hawaii unless they're a couple, you know?"

I shrugged, still grinning. "I guess we're just unusual."

Just then, Blaise reappeared, pulling a small suitcase and looking around with narrowed eyes. "Sadie, why are you interrogating my friend?"

Sadie rolled her eyes but backed off, leaving us alone. I shook my head, laughing. "Your sister's convinced we're secretly a couple," I said, teasingly.

Blaise groaned. "Oh, she thinks anyone with a pulse that I talk to is my 'secret boyfriend.' Don't mind her."

As we headed out to the car, I gave Blaise a playful look. "But, technically, I am your secret boyfriend, right?" I said, smiling.

She blinked, caught off guard, then let out a small laugh. For a second, she looked like she was going to come up with some clever comeback, but instead, she just gave me a smile, shaking her head.

"Fair point," she murmured finally, with a hint of a blush creeping up.

We tossed her bags into the trunk and climbed into the car, that smile still lingering on her face as we headed toward the airport.

Chapa POV:

Today I was at George's. When his assistant asked me to cover Blaise's piece while she was on vacation, I agreed easily enough, though my mind wandered to the fact that Blaise was still playing along in this whole charade with Miles, pretending to be Maddie. That part threw me a bit—Blaise didn't seem like the type to get involved in a web like that, and I wondered how long they could keep it up.

As I focused back on the room, I noticed the others—Fatima, Nate, and Aaron—huddled together, whispering like they'd been doing the past few Tuesdays when I stopped by. Their heads turned away when I looked back, avoiding eye contact like they were kids hiding something.

After they went quiet again, I finally turned around. "Alright, what's going on? What are you all whispering about?"

They glanced at each other, and eventually, Fatima looked at me with a cautious smile. "So, um, Chapa... are you the one dancing with Bose O'Brien in that video?"

Aaron chimed in quickly, "We've watched it a million times—just couldn't be sure."

I hesitated but nodded. "Yeah, that's me."

They erupted into gasps and grins, eager for more. Fatima leaned in, eyes wide. "Are you two, like, together?"

I laughed, then nodded, knowing they'd have questions now. They wanted every detail—how we met, what he was like—and then Nate leaned back, half-smiling. "Can't believe it. You really don't seem like the type who'd be out dancing."

I shrugged. "Well, I love dancing; I just don't get to do it often anymore. Bose and I used to dance all the time."

Fatima sighed, "That's so romantic."

Just as I thought we'd get back to work, I overheard Aaron murmur to the others something about George not being thrilled about this. I looked over. "What did you say, Aaron?"

Aaron shifted uncomfortably. "It's just... George. He, uh, might not be too happy with you dating Bose."

"Why?" I asked, surprised.

Nate jumped in, almost laughing. "Because George is obsessed with you, Chapa. You must have noticed by now."

I stared at them, taken aback, while Aaron added, "Let's just say he appreciates your, uh, looks a lot."

Fatima interrupted, "No, that's not true. Chapa, your skills are also what makes him interested in you." She looked at me with sincerity, and I nodded, grateful for her words, though I couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling settling in my stomach.

After we wrapped up, I decided I needed answers, so I asked Katerina if I could see George. She led me to his office, where he greeted me with his usual overly warm smile, though something about it felt hollow today.

"So, Chapa, what brings you here?"

I took a breath, keeping my voice steady. "I wanted to ask why you hired me."

He gave a careless shrug. "Because you're pretty, and you make good art."

I held his gaze, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Are you sure it's not just the first reason?"

He raised an eyebrow, barely hiding a smirk. "It's mostly the first reason, if I'm honest."

I felt my stomach twist. "I think it's best if I leave, then."

But as I turned to go, his voice stopped me. "Remember, Chapa, you still owe me a favor for that time off for Italy."

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to look back. "And what do you want?"

He leaned back, a satisfied gleam in his eye. "Dinner tonight. No strings attached, just dinner."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

He shrugged, giving me a pointed look. "Then just keep me company. Or, well... there may be consequences."

Resigned, I sighed, feeling trapped. "Fine."

George took me to one of those places designed to impress—sleek, elegant, with dim lighting and walls lined with high-end art, each table draped in white linen. It was a restaurant clearly meant for people who liked to feel like they belonged to some elite club. I knew I needed to be here, to humor him and keep my job, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was betraying Bose by even being in this position.

The waiter handed us menus, and George leaned forward, asking what I'd like. "To leave," I thought to myself, though out loud, I simply asked for a Coke. George laughed and cocked his head, raising a brow. "No alcohol?"

"No, thank you," I replied, keeping my tone firm.

He shrugged and ordered a bottle of wine anyway, his eyes studying me over the rim of the glass as he took a sip. Leaning in, he launched into a new pitch: a big art exhibition, an opportunity for "young, talented, and successful artists" like me. He'd like me to attend as his representative—"and a woman he could have by his side," he added with a smirk.

I felt my grip tighten around my glass. "I'm not interested in being some 'side girl' by your side, George. And I assume you already know I'm with Bose." My voice was calm, but I saw the flicker of annoyance in his eyes before he masked it with a thin smile.

"My apologies," he said, though it was clear he didn't mean it. "But you'd still want to attend, right?"

I shrugged. "I'll think about it."

George nodded as though this was some kind of victory for him. Then he added, "I'd be willing to make a deal. You paint special pieces for the exhibition, and I'll give you extra payment. It could bring in significant money when the pieces sell." Then he leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "But I'd take a 10% cut."

I thought it over, nodding in agreement. Money was money, after all. We ordered our food, and as I sipped my Coke, something caught my eye to the left—Bose, walking in with his mom and stepfather. My stomach twisted. I knew he'd mentioned having dinner with them tonight, but he hadn't said they'd be eating out, let alone here.

George followed my gaze, and a sly smile crept across his face. He made no effort to hide that he'd noticed Bose, speaking louder and deliberately working my name into the conversation. I looked over again, catching Bose's gaze, his face a mixture of surprise and hurt.

Bose excused himself from his family and walked toward our table, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at George, who was lounging back, all too smug. When Bose turned to me, his expression softened, though I could see the hurt lingering. "Chapa," he began, voice low and a little tight, "can we talk for a moment?"

Before I could answer, George cut in with a snide smile, "Can't you see we're talking?"

I shot George a look and then nodded to Bose. "We weren't. I'll be back in a minute."

Bose and I stepped outside, where the night air was biting. It stung my skin, adding to the tension already building in my chest. "What are you doing here with him?" he asked quietly, but there was an edge to his voice.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the words as I explained. "I still owed him a favor. He said there would be consequences if I didn't come tonight. I need this job, Bose. I can't afford to lose it."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've already told you—I can offer you a job too."

"But that feels like taking something I haven't earned," I said, my voice barely a whisper, my words catching in the cold air. "I want to earn my way, Bose, not feel like I'm depending on you."

He studied my face, then took a deep breath. "I understand. But are you sure about this?"

I nodded, shivering as the wind cut through my jacket. Bose noticed, and his expression softened. He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me close, wrapping me in his warmth. His breath brushed against my neck, hot like a comforting fire, and I felt myself relax in his hold. We stayed like that for a moment, my head nestled against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat.

He gave me a playful but protective look. "Promise me you won't let George try to seduce you," he said with a concerning expression.

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "What do you take me for, huh?" I asked, feigning offense, but my smile betrayed me.

He chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at me. "The girl I can't stop thinking about," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in that familiar, comforting way.

I smiled at his response. Finally, he pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on my shoulders. "Alright," he murmured. "Let's head back inside. Just remember, I'll be right here if you need me."

I nodded. He squeezed my hand gently before we went back in, and the warmth stayed with me as we returned to our seats, even if George was waiting with his false smiles and hollow compliments.

George was already eyeing me with a smug smirk. "What took you so long?" he asked, his tone thick with fake politeness.

I didn't bother responding, but my attention was drawn to a glass of water now sitting in front of me. George caught my stare and smiled. "I ordered water for you," he said, as though he were doing me a favor.

Something in my gut twisted. I didn't ask for this. I looked at him sharply. "Why'd you do that? I didn't order any water."

He held up his hands with a laugh. "It's just water, for you. Figured you'd need something refreshing. Drink up."

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back. "I didn't ask for it," I replied, keeping my tone light but suspicious. "Why don't you drink it, then? Just to make sure it's... refreshing."

George chuckled, too loudly, and his face hardened for a moment before he quickly recovered. "It's for you, Chapa," he replied, his voice laced with mock innocence. "Why would I drink it? Do you think I'd put something in there?"

"I don't know," I answered, holding his gaze steadily. "But I'm familiar with lies. And I'm seeing one now."

I stared at him, reading his face. I'd seen enough liars in my life to know when someone wasn't being straight with me. I leaned back, crossing my arms, feeling the weight of Bose's steady gaze from across the room. I could sense him watching the entire interaction. Before I knew what I was doing, I acted on impulse. Grabbing the glass, I tossed the water directly into George's face.

A stunned silence fell over the room as George's bodyguard, a towering figure, stormed up and gripped my wrist. George scoffed, wiping water from his face, muttering, "You bitch..."

Eyes from every table turned toward us, and I spotted Bose standing abruptly from his seat, his jaw tight, his mom and stepdad watching in shock. Bose strode over, and with a commanding voice, he looked directly at the bodyguard. "Let her go. Now."

I turned to the bodyguard, my wrist still in his hold. "What does George want from me?" I demanded. But his face remained impassive, giving nothing away.

George growled, "Take her outside. Now."

I felt a surge of adrenaline. Pulling my leg back, I kicked the bodyguard hard in the leg, channeling a small zap of my power to give him an extra shock. His grip faltered, and he staggered back, letting go of me. Bose's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise at what he'd just witnessed.

George rose, fury flashing across his face. "You slut."

Before I could react, Bose cut in, his voice cold. "Don't talk to her like that."

George's face twisted with rage. "I'll call her whatever I damn well please!" He lunged forward, fist raised. But Bose moved fast, effortlessly catching George's wrist mid-air, twisting it with precision until George dropped to his knees in pain.

I couldn't help but laugh, relief mixed with satisfaction as George squirmed. Bose leaned down, his voice calm but full of warning. "I'll give you one piece of advice, George—don't ever try to seduce her. She's not someone you could ever control."

Just then, his stepfather stepped forward, looking alarmed. "Bose! That's enough. People are watching."

I didn't hesitate. "George attacked him first," I said firmly, glaring back at his stepdad. He glanced at me, startled, and quickly looked away, moving to pull Bose's hand off George's wrist. But Bose was far stronger, holding his grip for a beat longer before finally letting go.

Bose's stepdad looked at him, still tense. "A word. Now."

But Bose shook his head, then turned to me. "Let's go."

As we walked out, Bose slipped his coat around my shoulders, pulling me close. His fingers brushed against mine, and I felt a warmth settle over me, grounding me in the moment.

"Thank you, although I could've handled it myself," I whispered, leaning into him slightly.

He looked down, his gaze soft. "You really need to stop saying that. No one gets to treat you like that."

As we reached the door, I noticed him pulling out his gum balls and transforming into Brainstorm.

I blinked, surprised. "What are you planning to do?"

He gave me a grin that was more determined than playful. "Take out that piece of trash," he muttered before disappearing back inside.

I waited outside, heart pounding. About ten minutes later, I saw the flashing lights of two police cars pulling up to the entrance. Bose, or rather Brainstorm, walked out with George held firmly in his grip. The officers exchanged a look and approached.

One of the officers walked up to Brainstorm. "Evening. We received a report of a disturbance. Is everything alright here?"

Bose inclined his head respectfully. "Yes, Officer. But there was an incident inside," he said, nodding towards George, who was now hovering near the door, looking shaken but defiant.

The officer frowned, glancing from Bose to me. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

I nodded. "I'm okay, but... He tried to pull something," I admitted, choosing my words carefully. "He ordered a drink for me, and when I asked him to have it himself, he refused. I had reason to believe he... tampered with it."

The officer's face grew stern. He looked over at George, then back at me. "Are you saying he tried to drug you?"

Bose stepped in, his voice firm. "We believe so. I'd recommend a search. There's reason to suspect he was planning something beyond just dinner."

George, overhearing this, finally stepped forward, red-faced and furious. "This is absurd!" he shouted. "I would never—she's lying!" He pointed at me accusingly, his hand shaking. "She threw water at me just to humiliate me!"

The officer held up a hand to silence him, his eyes narrowing. "Sir, we'll sort out the details, but this is serious if what they're saying is true." He gestured to one of the other officers. "Check his belongings and, if needed, run a test on the drink."

I glanced up at Bose, and he gave me a small nod, his face a reassuring anchor in the midst of the chaos.

One of the officers led George aside, patting him down and searching his pockets, while another took a sample of the water from our table inside. I could see George's shoulders tense as they pulled out a small vial from his jacket pocket, his face draining of color. The officer held it up, eyeing him critically.

"What's this, sir?" the officer asked.

George stammered, trying to regain his composure. "It's—it's just some... supplements! For energy. I'm allowed to carry that, aren't I?"

The officer raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that. For now, you're coming down to the station."

George's bravado evaporated, and he looked around frantically, his gaze landing on me with a twisted mix of desperation and anger. "You set me up!" he hissed, as they began to cuff him.

I just watched, feeling a surge of satisfaction. But there was no need to respond; the police had seen enough.

As they led George toward the squad car, one of the officers turned back to Bose and me. "We'll need a statement from both of you at the station."

I nodded, letting out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Of course. Thank you, Officer."

The officer tipped his hat slightly, then glanced at Bose. "And... Brainstorm, we may need to ask for some background information as well."

Bose gave a nod, a hint of a smile. "Whatever you need."

The officers led George into the car, his face still a mix of disbelief and rage, while Bose and I stepped into the other car.