chapter 62: lucky

Andrew POV:

I stood in front of the printer, arms crossed, watching as the pages slowly slid out. The details for the upcoming art exhibition printed one by one, but my mind was somewhere else. It had been a week since we got back from Hawaii, and I missed it—actually, I missed being on vacation with Mika. Work had swallowed both of us whole the moment we returned, and we'd barely seen each other. Late-night texts, rushed phone calls, stolen moments between meetings—it wasn't enough.

Even now, I couldn't stop thinking about that night in the ocean, the cave glowing around us, Mika's face lit with wonder. It had been perfect, and I wished I could go back. But reality had other plans.

The printer beeped, snapping me out of my thoughts. I gathered the papers and decided to stop by Bose's office before heading back. When I walked in, he was sitting behind his desk, staring at his screen like it had personally offended him.

I knocked on the doorframe, even though I was already inside. He glanced up, looking relieved for the distraction.

"Hey, Andrew," he greeted.

I leaned against his desk. "So, any luck finding a gift for Chapa?"

Bose let out a deep sigh. "I'm trying to pick out a motorcycle, but it's impossible to choose."

I smirked. "Rich people problems."

He snorted. "You say that like you're not rich yourself. What, are you hinting that you need a raise?"

I laughed. "Nah, my paycheck's fine. But if you really can't decide, just buy one and tell her she can exchange it."

Bose nodded. "That's probably the best idea."

I hesitated for a second before bringing up something else that had been on my mind. "By the way... Mika told me what happened while we were in Hawaii. About Blaise's ex."

Bose's expression darkened slightly. "Yeah, it was bad. He attacked her."

"She's okay now, right?"

"She will be. But that guy? He's dangerous. Miles and Mika wiped his memory so he won't remember anything, but I still don't like that he got that close."

I shook my head. "Damn. I didn't know it was that serious."

"Yeah. You can ask Mika more about it if you want, but honestly? I think they just want to move on from it."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Anyway, Mika invited me to Chapa's birthday party. I was hoping to spend the weekend alone with her, but I guess I'll have to share."

Bose grinned. "That's what relationships are like. Sacrificing your plans for a birthday party."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah." I pushed myself off the desk. "Alright, I'll leave you to your motorcycle crisis. See you Saturday."

As I walked back to my office, my thoughts drifted again—to Mika, to the ocean, to that cave where it had been just us, no work, no stress, no past problems creeping up on us. Just us.

Chapa POV:

I was sitting in the middle of Bose's living room, working on one of my paintings for the upcoming art exhibition. My brush moved effortlessly across the canvas, blending deep blues with warm golds. This week had been wild—one of my paintings had been featured in an art magazine, and suddenly, I was getting recognition from other artists. Some had even reached out to compliment my work. It felt... surreal.

I wasn't used to this kind of attention, but I had to admit, it was kind of nice.

As I focused on the details of the piece, the doorbell rang. I groaned, setting my brush down. Bose wasn't home, so I had no choice but to get up and answer.

When I opened the door, I was met with four girls, probably around seventeen years old. They all stood close together, whispering amongst themselves.

I frowned. "Uh... can I help you?"

One girl elbowed another. "I told you he doesn't live here," she muttered under her breath.

"It has to be," another one insisted, glancing over my shoulder like she expected to see someone inside.

I crossed my arms. "Who exactly are you looking for?"

One of them finally spoke up, though she looked a little nervous. "Does... Bose live here?"

I stared at them. "Why?"

The girls giggled, looking at each other. "We just wanted to meet him," one admitted shyly.

I let out a short laugh. "You do realize this is his house, right? Not a meet-and-greet?"

Before they could respond, another girl suddenly gasped and pointed at me. "Wait! You're her! You're the girl from the video!"

I blinked. "What?"

"The one he danced with! At the club!" she clarified excitedly. "Oh my God, you're

his girlfriend?"

The other girls lit up with recognition. "No way! Are you guys official?" one of them asked eagerly.

I felt an unexpected pang of jealousy, my grip tightening on the doorknob. "Yeah, we are," I said firmly, maybe a little too fast.

Their eyes widened, and they all exchanged impressed looks. "Wow, so it's true," one murmured.

Another girl pouted. "That's so unfair. He's literally perfect."

I forced a smile, but inside, I was seething. I wasn't sure why, but hearing them talk about Bose like that made my stomach twist. I'd always known Bose had admirers—he was rich, good-looking, and ridiculously charming when he wanted to be. But seeing them standing at his doorstep, practically swooning over him, made me want to slam the door in their faces.

Instead, I leaned against the frame, tilting my head. "Well, he's taken. So you might want to find another celebrity crush."

The girls groaned dramatically but nodded, taking a few reluctant steps back. "You're so lucky," one of them muttered before they finally walked away.

I watched them go, my heart still pounding.

Lucky?

I glanced over my shoulder into the house, where my half-finished painting sat on the coffee table.

Yeah. Maybe I was.

Blaise POV:

I sat at my usual spot in George's, stirring my drink absentmindedly. The air around our table felt heavy, weighed down by the unspoken tension. Fatima, Aaron, Nate, and I sat in silence, each lost in our thoughts. No one had to say it out loud—we all knew why things felt different now.

The rumors had spread fast. What happened between Chapa and George was something none of us had expected. Sure, we all knew George could be a flirt, a little too smooth for his own good, but we never thought he'd cross a line like that. Chapa wasn't coming back. She had every right to walk away, and honestly, I didn't blame her.

She could have filed a lawsuit against him, and I knew Bose wanted to. He was furious. But Chapa shut it down before it could go that far. She didn't want the drama, the mess that came with it. Still, none of us had spoken to George since. We hadn't even seen him around. It was like he disappeared.

If I didn't need the paycheck, I probably would've quit too.

I'd been thinking a lot about writing and illustrating mangas again. Back when I was about nineteen, I had an internship at a publishing company, and everyone there was positive about my work. I never pursued it further, though. After my mom died, I had to focus on making money fast. There wasn't time for dreams back then.

But now? Now things were relatively stable. Maybe it was time to give it another shot.

Yesterday, I finally reached out to the company, and to my surprise, they still remembered me. They offered me an interview for tomorrow. Even if I passed, I wasn't sure if I could afford to start from the bottom again. Internships didn't pay nearly as much as this job, but if I gained enough experience, I could eventually land a higher role. My real dream, though? Creating my own stories, running my own department.

I let out a deep sigh and checked the time. It was already dark—November had crept up on me fast. Wrapping up my work, I grabbed my coat and said a quick goodbye to the others before heading out.

George's mansion loomed behind me as I walked down toward the bus station. The cold air bit at my skin, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

Then, just as I was passing a dimly lit corner, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I froze.

Before I could react, Miles appeared in front of me.

I swallowed hard, every emotion I'd tried to suppress all week rushing back at once. I'd spent days avoiding thinking about him, about what he really was. AWOL. A fugitive. I still didn't know how to feel about it.

"Blaise," he said softly, as if he was afraid I might run. "I'm sorry to just show up like this."

I clenched my jaw. "We should talk later." I moved to step past him, but he reached out—not touching me, just enough to stop me in my tracks.

"Can I at least bring you home?" he asked.

"I don't like teleporting," I said flatly.

Miles nodded, like he expected that answer. "Then let me drive you."

I hesitated. I should have just said no and kept walking, but there was something in his voice—something I couldn't quite ignore.

"I just want to talk," he added. "Just for a bit."

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples before finally relenting. "Fine."

Miles gave me a small, relieved smile before leading me to his car.

The car ride was quiet at first, just the low hum of the engine and the occasional streetlights casting flickering shadows over us. I kept my gaze on the window, watching the blurred city lights, but I could feel Miles glancing at me every now and then.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke. "How have you been?"

I let out a slow breath. "I don't know," I admitted. "Still figuring things out."

Miles nodded like he understood, his hands steady on the wheel. "I get that," he said. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Shout-Out and I are doing everything we can to catch Slash. We're tracking him down. He won't be able to hurt you again."

I didn't react much, just gave a small nod and muttered, "That's good." I knew he expected more of a response, but I wasn't sure what to say. Slash had already done enough damage, and even if they caught him, it wouldn't change the past.

Miles must've noticed my lack of enthusiasm because he sighed but didn't push it. Instead, he asked, "You said you're figuring things out... what's on your mind?"

I hesitated for a moment before finally saying, "I have an interview tomorrow. An internship at a publishing company."

That caught his attention. "Wait, really?" His tone shifted, sounding genuinely interested. "That's amazing. Are you gonna do it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't pay as much as my current job, and starting from the bottom again... I just don't know if it's the right choice."

Miles shook his head. "Blaise, if this is something you want, do it." His voice was firm, no hesitation. "You're ridiculously talented. You should be making your own stories, not just working a job you don't even like. And hey, if you ever publish something, I'll be the first one to read it."

I glanced at him, caught off guard by how quickly he supported me. "You'd actually read it?"

"Of course." He grinned. "I'd read anything you made."

I pressed my lips together, fighting back a small smile. I wasn't used to people believing in me like that.

Before I knew it, we pulled up to my place. The car idled in the dimly lit parking lot, the engine a low, steady hum.

I reached for the door handle, but before stepping out, I hesitated. My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as I stared ahead, suddenly feeling like I had to say something.

I took a small breath. "Oh... and thank you," I said quietly, barely above a whisper. "For saving me."

Miles didn't say anything right away. When I glanced at him, he was watching me, his expression unreadable.

Then, finally, he gave a small nod. "No problem."

I stepped out, shutting the door behind me before I could change my mind.

Bose POV:

I stepped into my car, rubbing a hand over my face. It was already past midnight—way later than I promised. I'd overworked myself again, lost track of time completely. I already texted Chapa, but I knew that wouldn't be enough. She was going to be mad.

I drove back to my penthouse as fast as I could without actually speeding, then quietly pushed the door open, expecting her to be asleep. But the moment I stepped inside, I saw her.

She was sitting on the couch in the dark, arms crossed, eyes locked on me the second I walked in.

I exhaled, shutting the door behind me. "Chapa—"

"You're late."

"I know." I sighed, setting my keys down. "I told you I'd be home by ten, but—"

"Yeah, and it's midnight," she cut in, narrowing her eyes. "Where were you?"

I flipped on the lamp, letting the warm glow fill the room, then loosened my tie. "Working. You know that."

Chapa squinted at me like she was deciding whether to believe me. "Mhm. And who exactly were you working with this late?"

I smirked. "Are you jealous?"

Her glare sharpened. "Answer the question."

I chuckled under my breath and stepped closer. "Chapa, I was at the office. Just me, myself, and my laptop."

She didn't look convinced. "Funny, because earlier today, four girls came by your house looking for you."

I raised a brow. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah." She huffed, shifting on the couch. "They were fans. Your fans."

I blinked. "How did they even find my place?"

"No idea. But they definitely knew who you were." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "And they recognized me from that dance video."

Oh..

"So what did you tell them?" I asked.

She lifted her chin slightly. "That we're together."

I tried to bite back a grin but failed. "Oh? You got a little territorial, huh?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Shut up."

I laughed, walking over and sitting next to her. "Sounds like I should probably move once things settle down. Can't have random people showing up at my door."

She nodded but kept her arms crossed. "You should."

I nudged her playfully. "So, are you still mad at me?"

"Yes."

I pouted slightly. "Okay, what do I have to do to make it up to you?"

Chapa tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm... I'll let you know."

I leaned closer. "What if I just start guessing?"

She rolled her eyes, but I saw the small smile she was trying to hide. "Go ahead."

I grinned. "Alright. What about a massage?"

"Hmm." She tilted her head like she was considering it.

"Breakfast in bed tomorrow?"

She smirked. "Getting warmer."

I thought for a second, then slowly wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "Or... I could just hold you until you forgive me?"

She sighed, finally resting her head against my shoulder. "Fine. But I'm still mad."

I chuckled. "Of course you are."

But she didn't pull away, and I took that as a win.