CHAPTER 10
PRESENT
LILY
It’d been well over two weeks since the incident at the label launch event. Ever since then, my overprotective brother had been unbearable. Though I admit it was sweet, it did get on my nerves at times.
I was grateful for the meals that Helen (Emmie’s cook) sent me and for Tyler (Emmie’s bodyguard) for driving me around.
But it was so not cool of my brother to tell this to our parents, who gave me an hour-long talk about how irresponsible I was with my health and how things like this should never be kept a secret from your own family. The entire time, guilt just about ate me alive, my mind completely on the real reason behind all this.
The looks on their faces if they ever did find out the truth would just about kill me.
A hard knock on the door interrupted me when I was adding the detail lines on my character’s eyes. Though the other things in my life weren’t that great, this project had been going exceptionally well. I thanked my lucky stars that I no longer had to report to that ass, Mr. Jenson. Makima had been really impressed with my work and asked me to start on the keyframing.
I couldn’t believe it when those words spilled out of her mouth.
Sketching out the layout was one thing, but keyframing was on a whole other level. It was one of the most important aspects of anime production. It was essentially sketching out every movement of a scene so they merge seamlessly. A scene that was merely a minute would have hundreds of hand-drawn sketches edited together at post-production, where they would digitally add the effects, sounds, and colors. Almost as if you draw on the edges of a page and flip them to create motion.
Keyframing was the heart of anime production, and Makima trusted me with it.
And I didn’t want to let her down. I want to make her proud—make myself proud.
“What are you doing here?” All my happy thoughts halted as I opened the door and gazed at the man standing in front of me.
A man who braided the hopes of my past and also the man who incinerated them in seconds.
“Move aside,” he said casually as he barged into my apartment and set the huge casserole dish he held on my kitchen island.
I stood there baffled for a second before I collected my bearings and closed the door.
“Excuse me.” I strode up to his face. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Without my shoes, I was too short in front of him, my head barely hitting his chest .
“Bringing your lunch.” He unwrapped the foil on the dish and fiddled with my oven, popping it inside, then walked straight up to my fridge and dashed it open.
“Hey!” I followed him. “Why the hell are you bringing my lunch? It’s only ten o’clock, and I don’t need lunch from you. Helen brings me my lunch. And who do you think you are? Just walking in here and invading my fridge.” I slammed the door closed and met his bright green eyes.
“There’s nothing to invade there.” He gestured to my fridge. “That’s a sad excuse for a fridge.”
I tapped my feet, placing my hands on my hips. “It doesn’t answer my question. What the fuck are you doing here, Michael?” I enunciated each of the words so they could get straight into his thick fucking skull.
He leaned back against the counter, folding his arms. “Your brother asked me to take care of you.”
I scoffed, disbelief filling my blood. “I find that highly unlikely. You’re the last person on earth Emmie would ask to take care of me.”
“I know, but sadly, he did.”
“How is that possible?”
He sighed, and a strand of wavy hair escaped from his low ponytail. “With Emmie gone, he wanted me to look after you.”
“Look after me? I’m perfectly fine looking after myself, Mikey. And Emmie doesn’t need to worry that he’s not here. I get my meals from Helen, Tyler drives me around, and if I want anything, I’ll ask Matty or Katy, not you.” Shit went to hell for Emmie and Evy a couple of days ago, so they decided to go back to Bellevue to take some time from the real world. Honestly, they deserved the break more than anyone, considering all the shitty things that had been happening to them lately.
Mikey’s eyes locked on mine in a dead straight glare. “That’s the thing. Helen’s back home with her daughter, Tyler’s with Emmie, Matty is running behind two kids, and Katy’s back in LA. So, unfortunately for me, I’m all you’ve got.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I could already feel my breathing picking up and the layer of sweat palming my hands. “Well, guess what? You’re very fortunate today. Maybe the lucky cat is on your side. Because you’re relieved of your unfortunate duties. I can take care of myself.”
He grinned deviously, lips tugging into a curve that had my heart dancing in my throat. “Oh, is that so?” He took a step toward me so fast that my back crashed into the breakfast table.
And right at that moment, my stomach decided to growl loudly.
Fuck.
I wished a portal would open and isekai (teleport) me away to a new world at the sight of fury in the narrowed eyes staring at me.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked in a tone that made the back of my neck tingle.
My lips pulled through a shaky smile. “Umm, this morning.”
He leaned in, fixing me with a stare. “Liar. Is this how you take care of yourself? By skipping breakfast. I know you wake up around six fucking o’clock, and that was four fucking hours ago. What if you fucking fainted in the pool?” The muscles around his jaw tightened. He looked like he was seconds away from smashing a hole through my thick wooden cabinets .
“I’m actually refraining from swimming for a while, so I woke up a bit late, and I was just about to make something before you interrupted me.”
“Oh really?” He pointed at the hundreds of papers littered across my breakfast table. “I’m pretty sure you were thinking anything but that. And how were you fucking going to make yourself something? With nothing?” He gestured to my fridge, which we both knew was empty.
My stomach rumbled yet again. Shit. Calm down, tummy. Not in front of him.
“Fucking hell, Lily. So fucking irresponsible,” he muttered under his breath, storming out of my apartment.
For a long minute, my feet were rooted in place.
What the fuck was that about?
Michael could see straight through my lies. I was indeed not planning to make myself anything. Usually, Helen would’ve sent something by now, and since Emmie and Evy weren’t here, I didn’t want to call and disturb them. I was going to wait for another thirty minutes before I ordered something.
Another bang pulled me out of my thoughts.
I watched as Michael barged into my apartment once again, this time with his hands full.
“Umm, what are you doing?” I mumbled. I think I repeated that sentence a thousand times today because I felt like I stepped into the twilight zone.
“You go and sit there, and I’ll put together something for you.”
I raised my hand. “But… ”
The look he gave me stopped my words short, and I did shut the fuck up and occupied the chair that I had previously vacated.
Right opposite him.
I watched as he pulled out two pans from my cabinet and placed them on the stove while he whisked some eggs and buttered a thick white loaf. He opened the side kitchen drawer and retrieved the seasonings. How the fuck did he know where everything was? It was almost as if he’d cooked here a thousand times before.
It reminded me of that time when we were kids, when I used to sneak in every night when he stayed over with us and demanded he make me ramen. Those times when he was the boy who had my heart. Funny how everything was a lie.
Just because he kissed you, Lily, doesn’t mean anything. He’s still the boy who cast you aside like you were nothing.
I shook myself out of it and drew my eyes back to my rough frames. The scene assigned to me was only about five minutes, but each minute had about a thousand hand-drawn sketches, so that meant my target would be around six thousand. Hell, this was going to take months. But that was the fun thing about anime production. It was tedious but rewarding.
“Here.” Mikey pushed the paper that I was intensely shadowing. “That can wait, eat now.”
His tone suggested no room for argument. And the smell of the fluffy eggs and toast made my stomach agree with him.
My surprised eyes took in the matcha that was served along with my breakfast.
“You made matcha?” I asked, my eyes following him while he sank onto the high stool in front of me .
“Yes,” he stated simply.
I rolled my eyes, taking a sip. Damn, it was good. I might as well say it was as good as mine. “This is good. It takes skills to make good matcha. Have you been learning how to make them for me, Mikey?” I grinned cheekily.
He gave me a blank stare, his lips tugging into a sly grin. “You’re not the only one in the world who drinks matcha, little mouse.”
“Don’t fucking call me that. It’s just Lily to you now,” I said, biting into a piece of my toast and moaning because it was too fucking good.
A sharp inhale caught his throat, and his eyes darkened, but it only lasted a second before he nodded. “Fine, Lily.”
“Good.” I waved my fork. “Aren’t you eating?”
“I already ate.”
“Okay,” I muttered, polishing off my breakfast while he watched me the whole time. I didn’t know if it was endearing or creepy.
Fuck, one thing about Mikey was that he was an incredible cook.
But I was never going to admit that bit of information to him.
I stood, stretching out the weakness in my body, but to no avail. Though I was taking my medication, the exhaustion and the fatigue just wouldn’t go away. I could feel it getting worse and worse with each passing day.
“I have a salon appointment in a few. I’m going to get ready for that. You can see yourself out, and thanks for the breakfast,” I announced as I dashed into my bedroom, not waiting for his reply .
I couldn’t deny the little thrum in my heart fluttering it up. His presence in the apartment was consuming me, every molecule of me. It was hard to fight the urge to appear unbothered and cool.
I hurried and popped my pills, dressing into my BP front twist satin black mini dress, pairing it with my Dr. Martens and a chunky leather jacket.
My comfort outfit.
I lined my eyes and painted my lips in a blush pink to mask the paleness in my face.
I could tell I was sick.
I could tell I was dying.
I took a deep breath, donned my sling bag, and headed out.
And just as I exited my apartment, Mikey exited his, the touch of his citrus scent carried in the air. I halted my steps. He was dressed in his signature sweatpants with an oversized hoodie and Nike’s.
Was he going to the gym? But knowing Mikey, he was a lazy ass who only worked out three times a week because he had to, not because he wanted to. That was enough for him, though, with the way his body was carved. I admitted to sneaking my fair share of peeks at his shirtless skin over the years. Just because I didn’t like him didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the fine specimen that he was.
I didn’t say anything as I walked to the elevator, side-eyeing him as he matched my step with a smirk on his pretty fucking face.
I wished Michael got less attractive the older he got, but no, his charm only grew, adding to his already gorgeous face .
I breathed in a sigh as I stepped out of the elevator to the basement parking and headed straight to my car, only to find him following me. Hmm, his car was next to mine so I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
But it only lasted a second because instead of walking toward his driver’s seat, he walked toward mine.
“Okay, that’s it.” I spun around. “Why are you following me?”
His teeth sank into his bottom lip, a little too hard like he was suppressing the urge to smile. “Seeing what you’re up to.”
“I told you I had an appointment at the salon. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
“Funny that you think I’m going to let you drive out of here.” He slouched against my car door.
“I don’t understand,” I mumbled. Honestly, I didn’t, and I was late for my appointment.
“Come on. We’re going in mine.” He waved his keys in the air as he started toward his car.
“The hell I will. Good luck getting that done. I’m highly capable of driving myself.” I went ahead and grabbed open my car door but was stopped by a towering monster.
“Do you know how fucking reckless that is, Lily? What if you fucking fainted in the middle of driving?” he thundered, glaring.
A faint panic pulsed in my veins. What if I did faint? My actual diagnosis was so much worse, wasn’t it? “Why do you care?” My voice took on a thick, vulnerable note.
His gaze softened. “I always care about you. You’re my best friend’s sister. ”
A sharp inhale hitched its way up my chest, and suddenly, I felt like I wanted to cry. “Are we doing that, Mikey? Really? I used to be your best friend, not Emmie.”
Seconds passed while he looked at me with an intent gaze that peered into the depths of my soul. He quickly switched his gaze, running a frustrated hand through his long locks. “Let’s not go there, Lily. It’s not going to change anything. Let me just drive you whenever you want to go. I promised Emmie that I’d take care of you till he returns.”
Who was I kidding? Things were never going to change between us. “You’re right. It’s probably for the best,” I muttered, ignoring him as I walked up to the passenger seat and eased myself in without sparing him a second glance.
Things were better this way, anyway.
It wasn’t like I was going to be here forever.
“You’re finally getting your hair colored, Liliana Jones?” Mikey grinned, twirling around the salon chair as he regarded me.
Whatever earlier tension transpired between us had dissipated into nothing.
He was back to his usual self.
“Don’t call me that, Michael Saint.” As much as I loved him calling me by my first name, he knew how much I hated my middle name just as much as he hated his.
But that didn’t seem to affect him one bit. He just grinned wider. “Thought I’d never see the day.” He brought his phone to my phone and flash-captured a picture.
“Fucking hell. Don’t you dare take pictures of me, Michael!” I scolded. I looked like a dork with my head wrapped in layers and layers of foil. “And I thought you were my driver; I didn’t invite you up here. This is going to take hours. Why don’t you go ahead and do whatever it is that you do and leave me alone? I can call an Uber home.”
“Guess what, though?”
I sighed. “What?”
“I have nothing to do.”
“You’re testing my patience, Michael.”
“I would love to test it among other things, Liliana.”
I had to force every single hormone in my body not to react, but when the fuck did hormones ever listen to you. I clenched my teeth, twisting my chair away from that laughing bastard while my face flushed red.
I think something was inherently wrong with me. I didn’t know why, but I could never control the blush that marred my face. It made me feel like a teenager with a bad crush. I hated it.
“Don’t you have better things to do?”
“Nope.” He popped the P.
Fuck, this was going to be a long day.
Michael’s eyes didn’t stray from mine when the foil finally came off, and the color was revealed after washing and drying.
And I couldn’t stop staring at my hair in the mirror.
I’d done it. After years of contemplating, I’d finally done it.
I have colored my hair violet, an ombre from deep black to bright violet. I loved it.
And the important thing, I ticked off a wish on my list, but I kept that secret to myself.
Only five more to go .
“I never knew you could get more beautiful, little mouse,” Michael whispered .
My head snapped in his direction, and his eyes widened a fraction like he had just realized what had slipped out of his mouth.
“I mean, of course, I heard that all girls get more beautiful when they color their hair. That’s what the magazine was saying.” He gestured to the half-opened, upside-down Cosmo he was pretending to read. “It brings out the tone or something,” he mumbled as we headed out.
I was pretty sure he was deflecting his previous statement.
“What time do you usually head to work?” he asked, starting the engine of his matte deep purple Nissan GTR, a car that was as sexy as him. And damn, did that fucker know it.
“Around nine o’clock, why?” The corners of my eyes creased. “Wait, please don’t tell me you’re driving me to work too?”
He eyed me like I was stupid. “Who else is going to? I told you I don’t trust you to drive.” His lips stretched into a thin line. “You still look very pale.”
“Well, I admit that it won’t be safe for me to drive around, but that doesn’t mean I want you to drive me around. Can’t Emmie arrange someone? I can ask Katy. I’m sure she can do it in a minute.”
“Don’t,” he commanded. “I don’t trust anyone else to look after you.”
“It’s just a driver.”
“I don’t care, and any conversation about this ends here.”
“Fine,” I huffed out, folding my arms.
I sighed as I punched in the code to my apartment. “Are you going to follow me everywhere?” I asked, walking in and slinging my bag and jacket haphazardly on the couch .
Mikey gave me an “are you really asking me this?” look. But I didn’t care. I gathered my stuff from the breakfast table and set it all down on my couch. The rest of the afternoon, I planned on getting some work done.
I watched as Mikey neatly folded my jacket and placed my bag on top of it. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Yes, I’m staying here to keep an eye on you. I won’t bother you, but it’s time for lunch, so you need to eat.”
“Mikey, when Emmie asked you to look after me, it doesn’t mean you have to look at me 24/7. It just means checking in on me now and then. Aren’t you going a bit overboard?”
“Overboard?” His brows arched. “Imagine you by yourself, and something happens, Lily. What if you land on something bad and hit your head? No one would be there to catch you like last time.”
“Mikey, I fainted once. Once. It doesn’t mean it’s going to…” But I stopped myself from finishing that sentence because he was right. If I was just anemic, I would’ve kicked his ass out. But I wasn’t. As much as I have come to terms with the fact that I was dying, I wasn’t ready to go before my time was up. I had so many things on my list that I had to complete. “You’re right,” I mumbled. “I think it’s best if you stay.”
A look of surprise slid over his face as his eyes widened like he couldn’t believe I agreed with him so readily.
“I’ll go get changed into something comfy, then.” I darted a thumb toward my room.
He nodded. “I’ll fix you a plate.”
One last look at his beautiful face, and I dashed to my room. It took me ages to find some sweatpants because I never wore any at home. But now I couldn’t parade around my apartment in just my hoodie.
Finally, I stepped outside, and the smell of spices and cheese wafted through the air.
“Wait, is it what I think it is?” I jumped with glee as I made my way to him.
“Yes.” He smiled, serving a portion on my plate. “I had to bust my ass to wake up at seven to get this done for you, so you better eat it all.”
“Ahh.” I clapped my hands. “I’m so excited. I haven’t had it in ages. And you woke up at seven for me? You’re the best.” My hands raised on their own accord and wrapped around him from behind.
He froze, and so did I.
Fuck, what did I do?
Somehow, my body responded on its own like it was the most natural thing to do. I quickly dropped my hand like I’d been doused with cold water and moved away.
We both gave each other a small smile almost as if it never happened.
Soon, we both settled on the couch, with me gobbling up the Mexican bake (my favorite dish). Michael ate quietly like we had somehow done this a hundred times. We had but not in the past ten years.
But I must remember that he was only doing this because Emmie asked him to, not because he wanted to. I didn’t want to get tangled in the web of getting comfortable with Michael, though my time was limited because it would only take him a second to break my heart .
“God, that was good. It’s been so long since I had that. Though you’re not really my favorite person at the moment, actually…” I held up a finger. “At any moment. But it was good, so thank you.” I set my plate aside, getting my drawing board and graph pad ready to get started on the project.
Mikey raised a brow, taking our plates to the kitchen. “Being your favorite person is not really my top priority, Lily.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes as I got the storyboard and my character reference set up. “I’m sure you have better things to do. Let me guess, go to parties, drink, fuck some girl, and repeat. How soulless!”
A long moment passed, but he didn’t say anything, so I looked up, my eyes landing on the pair of greens that had a look in them that I couldn’t quite understand.
“You’re right. My life is soulless,” he said in a voice too thick that carried a hint of sadness.
“I… I didn’t mean it like that.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I just meant it like boring. I wasn’t saying your life is actually soulless.”
His lips broke into a vacant laugh as he leaned back into the couch and eyed the ceiling. “But my life is soulless, boring, whatever it is that you want to call it. I’m just a bassist in a rock band who’s earned the name of a cool rock star, drinking around and fucking woman, a pretty face slapped on a magazine cover to earn some extra buck, a marketing gimmick with no actual talent.” His eyes slid over to me. “So, it is true , my life is soulless.”
I didn’t know why, but my heart tugged for him. I knew he was putting on fake skin to appear as an easygoing playboy, but I thought he enjoyed this life. I thought he loved it. I couldn’t stop my hand from grasping his. I chose to ignore the heat of his flaming touch as I whispered softly, “But Mikey, you are THE bassist of the greatest rock band in the world. Don’t ever forget that. You sound like an ungrateful brat, and don’t get me started on the talent part. You are a natural player. You just had to pick up the bass, and you started playing it like you’ve been practicing it for your entire life. Do you not remember how jealous Emmie got when you did?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. The vulnerability lingered as his eyes swept over my face, but the spark returned. “Yes, I do. That fucker didn’t let me sleep for an entire month because he had a thousand questions about if I’d been secretly practicing and how the hell could I have done that.”
“My brother is a dork,” I added before twisting back to my sketches.
I was happy that he was back to himself again.
No matter the circumstances, I just didn’t like seeing him sad. I never did.
“Fuck, those are incredible, little mouse.” His voice filled with awe as I retrieved my earlier panels.
A heated blush spread across my cheeks. “Thanks, but they are far from done. Still needs a lot of work.”
He held the sheet in his hand, scrutinizing my art. “I wouldn’t know. I’d say these are as good as done. Is this the anime you’re working on?”
“Yes. It’s a romcom called Ayana’s Eyes . It’s about a girl who can’t see, and she gets transferred to a new school where she befriends the hero to work on a school project, the hero actually acts like a jerk but secretly likes her. It’s like even though she’s blind she helps him see the colors of life. ”
“Typical,” he stated.
“I agree, but then every story has already been written. At least that’s what an author on the internet said.”
“It is kinda true, but then you think about the billions of people on Earth. Although there are factors of similarity and coincidence, everyone’s story is different, isn’t it?”
The space between my brows pinched. “So what, like, everyone writes their stories differently?”
“Yeah.”
“But what about fate? What if it has all already been written?”
“Then you rewrite it.”
“That just doesn’t make any sense. You can’t just change fate. It’s inevitable.”
“No, it’s not. Fate is whatever you want it to be.”
I shook my head. “You can’t just change fate, Mikey. Whatever the fuck has to happen, it fucking happens. It’s what God decides, not us.”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t believe in God.”
“Fine, you don’t have to, but fate is fate. If fate decides that I have to die tomorrow, then I die tomorrow, and no one can change that.” My heart skipped a beat with what had just slipped out of my mouth.
His head snapped in my direction; eyes narrowed to sharp slits that made me regret my last statement. “What the fuck did you just say? You’re not dying, Liliana, ever. It won’t happen on my watch. Fucking watch what you say the next time.”
I sighed, nodding as I let it go. I could feel the imminent rage radiating off him. Michael played the part of always keeping his cool and not uncovering the side of him he was ashamed of. And I certainly didn’t want to bring it out today.
I was unable to stop the thought that swam in my mind the entire day. If my lie brought out such a reaction in him, what if he actually found out the truth?
Then I’d be worse than a bird locked in a cage.