Aurora's Point Of View

"Arlan. Wh-what are you,"-

"I wanted to bring you a study snack," He held up a hot chocolate and a small carton of French fries, a seemingly innocent gesture, but my body rushed with panic.

The innocent and fun nature of the diner grew tense with Arlan's presence, the forest of his eyes ominous and bone-chilling. His tattooed build and all black attire, matched with a face-frame of unruly, midnight curls and his signature scent panicked me. White hot anxiety rushed through my body as I felt nauseous and my body tensed and started to tremble and I quickly stood. I know Elise said not to give him a reaction, but with Beck here, it was impossible to stop the feeling of inexorable terror.

"B-but,"-

"I know you're working hard so I wanted to surprise you," Were his crooning words as he grinned gently, his tatted hands met my shoulders to massage them and I flinched, gasping.

He peered down with confusion. "What are you doing in a diner?" He looked around perplexed, before ushering me to sit back down.

"I was just...," I couldn't think of what to say as my bum met the booth once again. I had to get rid of him, fast, but my throat was too dry and my mind was too frazzled to form coherent thoughts. I stood again. "Thank you, let's eat outside," I got up and quickly took hold of his arm, pulling him to get him away from here.

"Wait, wait, wait," Arlan laughed under his breath, "C'mon, we can eat together," His calloused, ring-covered fingers cupped the back of my thighs making me sick as he pulled me close to him. I turned to look towards the kitchen and bathroom area and prayed Beck wasn't coming out. Arlan picked up the laminated menu and snorted a laugh.

"Green Gatherings?" He scoffed. "More veggie food from hell, baby?" He looked up at me. "The food probably tastes like shit, but I guess I'll try it. Whaddaya think tastes the least shitty? I'll bare it, for you."

"Arlan, please, let's go," I begged urgently.

"What's the rush, angel? Shh," He pulled me closer by my thighs and squeezed my skin. He then rubbed up and down, his cold rings against my warm skin making me feel ill. It reminded me of when he hit me, and they hit my cheek. It was my worst fear, and it came true. "You're so tense, my babydoll," He murmured, which only made my body tense up even tighter.

"Please," I pleaded desperately, wrapping my arms around his right bicep and tugging him. "Just go, come on. I-I'm already eating," I was blurting out anything, just anything to get him to go, not thinking logically.

Arlan straightened up to his full height and let go of my thighs, bumping me backwards and sending me whimpering, gripping the booth behind me with my hand to steady myself. His domineering frame arched high over mine as his pronounced brow shadowed over his midnight blue eyes.

"With who?" He demanded icily.

"W-with no one, a-alone, just me," I shakily lied.

"You're not supposed to leave the college campus, Aurora," He sneered, his eyes grew even darker and a whine caught in my throat. "What are you even doing here?"

How did he even find me??

"I-I'm just studying, I went for a w-walk for some air and it got too cold so I ducked inside somewhere random."

"How do I know you didn't get in someone's car?"

My face flushed and I hope the reaction alone did not give myself away. God forbid he sees the red on my cheeks and he'll know I'm lying. He'll search every corner of this place until he finds Beck. Or maybe, he'd hurt everyone here because he's pissed. I didn't know. Arlan was unpredictable.

"You don't have to worry, just please, go, I need to study and I'm stressed about this test. Go. and we'll have dinner together, alright?" I quickly took the hot chocolate and food from him and set it on the table. Then I reached up and lightly rubbed his arms up and down, trying to soothe him. I even held my breath got on my tippy toes and kissed his lips for a millisecond.

Standing back on my feet, I looked up at him, citing my lip and trying to bat my eyes innocently. Arlan bellowed a sigh, nodding, seeming to understand, he cupped my face. His other hand met the back of my head and started lightly kneading my scalp. His midnight, cobalt eyes softened to a smoother, lighter blue and I exhaled shakily.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I just miss you," He mumbled the last part, his eyes seemed glossy not from tears, but from exhaustion.

I couldn't help but feel bewildered at his softness and sincerity, my brows knitting together. He went from cruel and demanding to kind and soft so fast it gave me whiplash. His attitude was like a light switch, he could cocoon you and caress your hair one moment and then hit you before you could blink. It was unnerving.

"Just make sure you get food in between studying, babe," He kissed my forehead and my stomach churned at the feeling of his lips on my skin. "I'll see you at home, angel."

I exhaled shakily and nodded, confused and relieved as to why Beck hasn't been back. Did his other men take him, were they torturing him outside while Arlan was here to distract me?

"W-wait! A-Arlan, did you drive here alone?" I asked as he was turning to go, catching his arm. His arm flexed in a defensive mode. I gulped, hoping he wouldn't get angry.

"Why?" He questioned.

"I-I'm just wondering i-if anyone from work came or y-you just left alone, is all," I explained.

"I came alone," He responded.

"Okay. I'll see you later. Thank you for the food," I nodded, relieved to watch him nod back and leave.

I watched his presence walk out of the door, he stuck out like a sore thumb among the cheery other customers and waitresses. Some waitresses even looked at him judgementally as he left, wondering why someone so intense wandered into a happy diner like this. And I had to go home to him.

I slid back into my booth that faced the door and exhaled slowly once more, trying to become calm. I was still praying he was being truthful and that Beck would come back. Where was he?

Familiar laughter flooded relief through my senses as I snapped my head quickly towards the kitchen area. Beck was grinning warmly and chuckling with Greta, before patting her shoulder and heading back towards the table. When he saw me looking at him, he raised his eyebrows and grinned wider to acknowledge me and I softly forced a smile back, turning away.

"Hey stranger," He greeted as I softly said my 'hi' back, "Sorry that took a minute, Greta stopped me after I got out and was talking to me. She, uh," He scratched his head, laughed shyly. "Kinda asked if you were my girlfriend."

"Oh," I forced a giggle out, my face growing strawberry red. I wish. "That's awkward."

"Yeahh, but she's sweet, she understands that we're just friends. And we were catching up on school and all that, since our schedules are kinda opposite we don't get to talk as much."

"She's seriously so precious, what a cutie," I smiled warmly at him. "I love that you took the time to talk to her."

His brows drew together as he looked at the food in front of me.

"What's this, A? Fries and coffee, 'er something?" He lifted my hot chocolate mug and I quickly took it back from him, clearing my throat.

"Uh, I hope you don't mind," Panic set into me again as my mind searched for an excuse to tell, "I-I got a hot chocolate to go. And fries. Well, I figured we could share the fries," I blabbered, pushing the fries towards him.

He looked unconvincingly towards the food, surely knowing it wasn't from here. I licked my lips and sucked in my lower one, just hoping he'd buy it. I didn't want to talk about Arlan's visit, I was still confused and terrified as to how he found me. Did he install some tracker on me? Did Nate give me away, could I not trust Nate?

Beck just smiled at me.

"C'mon, I love fries, you know me. This is rad," He said, plucking three fries and popping them in his mouth. "Don't worry about it, of course we can share."

I sighed in relief and forced a smile.

"Cool, awesome. So, I wanted to talk to you about the Fall Back. I have this friend Elise," I began, changing the subject desperately. "She's, like, home-schooled," I fabricated. "She doesn't know anyone, but she's the sweetest, and I'm encouraging her to come. Would that be cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'course," Beck nodded through a mouthful of more fries, nodding at the table and swiping grease off his hands. "Where's Elise from?" His hazel eyes find mine.

"Uh, close to here," I nod. "And I even think she likes Nate."

"She knows Nate?" He laughed. "Of all people from here?"

"Well, I think they like, grew up together, 'er something," I lied. Yeah, definitely that. Not living in a mafia house together, or anything. "She never goes out anywhere but when I mentioned he was gonna be there, it piqued her interest."

"Pico de-guy-o," Beck joked. "Get it...cause...the guy...anyway, what time are all gonna meet up?" He said, face a little red in embarrassment at the failed joke.

I shook my head in disappointment, giggling quietly. "I don't know, what time does it start? Y-you're going with Peyton, right?"

"Well," He shrugged slightly, "I mean, we're all kinda just going as a group, you know?"

"Are you guys going in the same decade?" I asked.

"Nah, I think she's doing '60's like Had. What about you, what're you thinking?"

"I'm not really sure. What do you think I show do?"

"Hmmm," He set his palm in his chin, tapping it. "Well, I would personally be severely amused if you teased your hair all crazy like an 80's chick and wore one of those speedo leotards."

"Eww, Beck!" I laughed. "I'm being serious, I wanna do something cute and not...weird. What should I do?"

He shrugged, thinking a bit.

"The 50's," He decided.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah," He nodded, "You've got a vintage feel to you already, Mulven. It's in your face. Kind of movie star like. The kind Sinatra would sing about."

"Here's your milkshakes," Greta appeared, setting down two glass milkshake cups that had mountains of whipped cream and a cherry. "Are we ready to order, or need a minute?" She smiled, taking out her pad and pen.

"Uh, couple more minutes, Gret," Beck smiled, to which she grinned and walked towards the kitchen.

"Alright, here are the real kickers," Beck smirked, raising his eyebrows as we both tore the paper off of straws. "Wait 'til you taste this."

We both sunk our straws into the fluffy pile of whipped cream and sucked through the straw. A rich, thick blend of sweet strawberry made my eyes widen as I swallowed.

"Woah, holy shit, this is so good," I agreed, lifting the cup and eyeing it, then him.

"Right?" He clapped his hands together. "So fucking good! Hey, you wanna try mine?" He gripped his cup and tilted it towards me.

My mouth parted slightly as I looked unsurely at him, feeling nervous. Would that be okay for two friends to do, share a drink? It felt like an intimate gesture. Maybe to him it was harmless.

"I-I mean, you don't have to," He assured me.

I picked up my straw slowly and made sure to lick the whip cream off so it wouldn't drip to the table. Sinking the straw into his milkshake, I sucked in gently to be met with the delicious taste of chocolate and peanut butter. My eyes gently floated up to his and I pulled back from my straw, taking it out and licking anything dripping out. I placed my straw back into my own strawberry shake.

"That's really, really good," I said shyly, nodding at him. "Thanks."

"Of course," He nodded, smiling warmly at me. I met his smile with my own shy one, almost convincing myself it was like a date. If only. Even though I was trying really hard to push the narrative that Beck and I were just two friends hanging out in my head, I couldn't ignore the pattering in my heart signaling my crush for him. I was damn head over heals.

"So h-how's your music going? I know last time I was over you were writing that song. Did you finish it?"

"Oh, yeah, actually. It's crazy, it's like, once I heard your song..it just made sense. I was able to make the vision come true by hearing it being sung, you know, properly," He laughed and I giggled. "I actually finished that and wrote a new one."

"Oh no way, you look at you! You know, with that kind of talent, you really should just be a music major."

He swallowed and looked a little uncomfortable.

"Oh, I just meant..." I trailed off.

"Sorry," He scratched his neck. "I just get kinda anxious talking about picking a major. Not like, Aurora-anxious," He quickly clarified and I gasped.

"Heyy," I pouted and he reassuringly rubbed my arm from across the table briefly.

"Just kidding, A. But yeah, I just get all uncomfortable. Greta was even asking me too, 'Beck, oh, what's your major, what are you studying!' My professors will ask me. My parents text me, 'have you picked a major yet?' My dad is pushing the whole business major agenda on me," He sighed. "I get it, I know, I'm in my second year and I should really start putting my foot down. But I don't know, is it so crazy to be nineteen and just not know what to do with your entire life yet?"

"Of course not," I shook my head. "We're still so young."

"Yeah but you know, Aurora, everyone puts this pressure on me. I feel it. From my parents, my professors, myself. Like I've failed, like I should just know, and I don't. You're lucky. Seriously. You know what you want to do, you're on track for your career."

I shrugged.

"I'm just studying a passion of mine. Something that makes me happy. That's why I think you should do music."

"Music isn't gonna pay the bills, pay rent. And I don't wanna be working at Green Gatherings for the rest of my life struggling to make ends meet while being a starving musician. Yeah, I would love a world where I could snap my fingers and be a famous musician, touring with people while I play guitar for them, making millions. But I want stability. A family I can take care of. It just sucks, cause all of that is years and years away but I gotta figure out my plan now, at nineteen. Again...I just fucking hate society for making it that way."

"It's honestly kinda fucked once you say all that," I agree, not even noticing how comfortable the curse word rolls of my tongue. "And you shouldn't beat yourself up for not knowing. You're not a failure or anything, you're completely smart and capable. You're just trying to think this true before diving head-first into a career you might hate. Forget the pressure and just do you, Beck. You'll figure it out. Just promise me one thing," I say.

He raises his eyebrows and stares at me curiously with his little, wide puppy-like brown irises.

"Just promise me no matter what, you'll still do music in one way or another. You're too talented and too creative to leave it behind."

He nodded, taking my words into account.

"Well, okay, I'll try my very best," He gave me a small, half-grin which made my stomach blossom with butterflies. "If you promise me one thing," He said.

My face grew hot and flushed with pink as my heart beat pounded against my throat.

"Yeah?" I asked softly.

"Promise me you'll start trusting yourself."

"What?" I laughed under my breath. I straightened my posture and moved my hair behind my neck. "What..what does that even mean?" I tilted my head.

He licked his lips and stared at me sincerely.

"It means you'll trust that you're enough," My stomach sank and it became clear to me how clear it was to others how self-conscious of a person I am. It made me equal parts sad and happy. Sad that he could sense my self-doubt. Happy that he thought I should think more highly of myself.

"I never thought of it as a trust thing," I honestly said. "I thought trust was just something you put in others."

"Oh, no," Beck scoffed a laugh, shaking his head. "If you only put your trust in others, you'll just end up manipulated. Abused. Because horrible, horrible people can sense people who don't trust themselves. People who don't trust themselves get taken advantage of."

I bit my lip, trying not to get emotional though I felt my water lines brim.

"Hey, relax, relax," He insisted. "It's not your fault. I'm just trying to help you. You have to trust you, and then you'll have the best sense of yourself and everyone else. Stop fabricating what you think you are in your head and start trusting who you really are."

But what if I don't know who I am? I thought to myself.

I spent my whole life conditioning myself that I'm bad, that I'm something no one wants, because my parents didn't want me, so why would anyone else? I hid myself because I told myself everyone thought the same thing. I was unwanted.

But what if that was a lie? A lie I manipulated to myself for eighteen years? What if I really was wanted? Beck was right. I had to start trusting who I really was, not the lie I tell myself I am because of the shame I carry for being abandoned by my parents.

"I promise," I told him. "I really do. I promise."

A grin stretched over his face slowly, an honest, warm grin. He reached his hand forward, and I slowly reached forward mine. My fingers slid through his in a perfect fit, his palm warm and comforting. He squeezed my hand gently.

"Then so do I," He whispered.

~~~~~~~~~

Arlan fished his keys out of his pocket as we stood at the door of his estate. As he unlocked the door, I braced myself. I had stayed at college until 9 PM as I said, would he be mad again? I'd have to be hit and resume expressionless to go through with my plan. Could I handle that?

Only, when he lead us in, the lights were already off and several candles lined the kitchen. In confusion, I turned to him, and he closed the door.

"What,"-

"You said you'd have dinner with me," He murmured, tilting my chin up to crane my neck upwards to look at him. His pillowy, full lips caressed and brushed against mine in a sensual but brief kiss, biting at my lower lip which had me whimpering in discomfort. He groaned, mistaking it for a moan, but parted from my lips, resting his forehead against mine. "So I wanted to do something special. Come," He took my backpack from my hands and hung it on the coat rack. With his hand on the small of my back, he led me to the table.

I glanced around and inhaled at the clean smell of lavender, it must be the scent of the candles. It did create a comforting aroma, but the darkness and small, dimness of light did have me anxious. I didn't like having such minimal light and being in Arlan's presence. Closer to the table, I saw three young maids standing in front of the table. One had her strawberry blonde hair in plaits with bangs like me, and began setting the food in front of the table.

"You look so young," I couldn't help but murmur, to which she continued to set out the food.

"I am fourteen, miss Aurora."

I look quickly to Arlan.

"Fourteen? Arlan, she's a child," I scoff in disbelief, feeling disgusted.

"Yeah, and her father is an idiot who gambled with us and is in debt, that's kinda how it works. Would you rather I kill him?"

"M-Miss Aurora, it is okay, I-I like to cook," The young girl said quickly, her eyes widening in fright at Arlan's words as she began to shake, avoiding looking at him.