15

Stella was slumped in her seat, cheek resting on her hand, the remnants of the cold drink dripping on the white linen. Her yellow dress was slightly wrinkled now, curls a bit looser than they'd been hours ago. She was flushed and glassy-eyed, swaying just slightly to the violin playing in the distance.

Sarah sat beside her, barefoot now, heels abandoned under the table. "You good?"

Stella blinked slowly, then nodded. "I'm vibing."

Olivia strolled up, a drink in one hand and the other tugging her collared shirt a little. "Okay, two things. One: you look like you've seen God. Two: where's golden boy?"

Stella looked up and squinted. "Who?" She slurred,

"Your date. Tall, polite, vaguely lifeless. You walked in with him like it was the Met Gala."

"Oh." Stella waved a hand. "He left. Early. Some... work thing."

Olivia raised a brow. "On Midsummers?"

"His mom texted him. Said something about conference calls and shipping delays and whatever rich people lie about."

Sarah let out a soft snort.

Olivia plopped down beside her, sipping her drink. "So you're single again. Thank God. He gave me nothing."

Stella groaned and laid her head on the table. "Don't remind me."

Sarah leaned in, "You've had, like, six glasses of champagne. Maybe slow down."

"I'm celebrating," Stella mumbled into the tablecloth. "I survived an entire Midsummers and didn't throw anything."

"Barely," Sarah said, laughing.

Olivia grinned. "Wait... but seriously, where's Rafe?" That pulled Stella's head up, and Sarah gave Olivia a look. "What?" Olivia said innocently. "Just wondering."

Stella shifted in her chair, eyes darting across the crowd. "I actually don't know, probably being an asshole to somebody around here."

Sarah snorted again and reached for her drink.

Olivia leaned closer to Stella. "You okay, though? Like, actually?"

Stella hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Just... tired of all this pretending."

That quieted them for a moment. The music swelled again in the background. Glasses clinked. Laughter bubbled from across the lawn.

"Welcome to Midsummers, babe," Sarah said softly. "Where everyone's pretending."

Sarah took a long sip from her drink, then tilted her head in the direction of another table. "By the way, does anyone else have a problem with her?"

Stella followed her gaze and immediately regretted it. Rafe's date—some girl in pale blue with perfect posture and nothing behind her eyes, she was laughing at something Ward said.

"I mean, she's pretty," Olivia offered, though not convincingly.

"She's a mannequin," Sarah muttered. "I swear, Rafe just finds girls that look good in family photos and don't know a single thing about him."

Stella didn't say anything. Her stomach turned a little.

"She's got zero personality," Sarah continued, eyes narrowed. "I said hi and she just blinked at me like I was trying to sell her insurance."

Stella reached for her champagne again and muttered without thinking, "Just surprised she wasn't mentioned on that walk."

Sarah turned to her slowly. "What walk?"

Stella froze. "Walk? What walk? It's nothing." Making Olivia raise an eyebrow, grinning.

"It's really nothing," Stella said quickly, laughing a little too loud. "It was something dumb. Forget it."

But Sarah wasn't letting it go. "Wait. Did you and my brother go on a walk or something?"

Stella looked at her drink like it might save her. "Sarah..."

Sarah's jaw dropped. "You did. Are you kidding me?"

"It was just ice cream!" Stella whisper-yelled, glancing around. "Nothing more."

Sarah sat back, arms crossed, trying not to smile. "So that's why he's been so weird lately."

Olivia blinked between them. "When was this?"

Stella groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I should not have said anything."

Sarah just smirked and leaned in. "You so owe us the full story later."

And as laughter crept back into the circle, Stella couldn't help but smile too.

The music had picked up again, something loud and catchy that pulled people from their tables to the dance floor. Sarah grabbed Stella's hand. "Come on. We need to dance before Olivia throws a drink on someone."

"I would never waste alcohol," Olivia called, already swaying to the beat.

Stella laughed as she followed Sarah to the dance floor, heels forgotten, champagne fizzing in her blood. They danced under the hanging lights like nothing else mattered, laughing at each other's moves, hair sticking to their faces. For once, things felt light.

Sarah suddenly paused, her eyes catching movement at the edge of the crowd. JJ passed her a folded note behind someone's back—quick and smooth. She opened it, read it fast, then turned to Stella.

"I gotta go see John B real quick."

Stella raised a brow. "You sure that's a good idea?"

Sarah didn't answer. She just gave her a mischievous look and disappeared into the crowd.

JJ stepped in next to Stella. "So. Want me to teach you how to sneak into the wine cellar without getting caught?"

She laughed. "Tempting." Taking his hand, and allowing him to lead her away.

They started heading inside, weaving past half-sober guests and trailing laughter. But when they got into the cool of the house, Stella paused.

Rafe was sitting alone in the corner of the grand room, legs stretched out, one hand around a half-empty glass. His tie was undone, eyes distant. There was something almost too quiet about the way he looked—still and sharp all at once.

JJ followed her gaze. "You good?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I just—" Her eyes stayed on Rafe. "He looks... I don't know. Let him be. I'll catch up."

JJ studied her for a beat but didn't push. "Alright. I'll save you a bottle."

Stella smoothed down her dress and walked over to the couch, her voice light as she approached. "What happened to your date?" she asked, a playful lilt in her voice. "Did she bail when you didn't buy her a yacht?"

Rafe looked up at her slowly. His expression was unreadable, but there was something tired in it. "Didn't like her," he said simply, taking another sip.

She gave a crooked smile and sat down beside him. "She seemed... like a nice girl"

He didn't respond.

After a second, Stella tilted her head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, too flat.

She nudged his knee with hers. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Rafe."

He exhaled hard through his nose, still not looking at her.

She blinked slowly. The buzz in her head made her talk faster than she meant to. "You always do this. Shut down. Go cold. Like, I get it, trust issues or whatever you have going on—but I'm not trying to mess with you, okay? You don't have to tell me everything. Just—don't push me out like everyone else."

She paused, her words finally catching up to her. "Sorry. That was a lot."

Rafe looked at her then, really looked at her. And for a moment, his expression shifted—just barely—but enough to let her know he'd heard every word.

"You're a mess," he muttered, but it came out softer than expected.

Stella leaned her head against the back of the couch and smiled, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah. But at least I'm honest."

Rafe watched her for a moment—her hair a little wild from dancing, her cheeks flushed, eyes glassy but still sharp in that way that always caught him off guard. She wasn't hiding behind anything, not now.

He took another sip, his voice low. "You talk too much when you're drunk."

Stella turned her head to look at him, a lazy grin on her lips. "You pout too much when you're sober."

He huffed a laugh despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Touché."

They sat like that for a second, the muffled beat of the party still thudding through the walls, voices distant. For once, neither of them tried to fill the silence.

Then, quietly, Rafe spoke. "I didn't go in there to find you when I did"

Stella glanced at him, brows slightly raised.

"I went in there to breathe," he said. "To get away from people pretending like everything's perfect. Like MidSummers is supposed to fix anything."

Her expression softened, the teasing fading a little. "It doesn't have to fix anything," she said. "It's just... a night."

"For you, maybe." His voice was bitter again, but not at her.

She hesitated, then leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. "Look... I don't know what's going on in that twisted brain of yours, but whatever it is, you don't have to go through it alone."

He shook his head, but his lips twitched again. "You don't give it a rest, do you?" Stella only shook her head at this, a large eager smile on her face. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes at this question, "Because I like you, dumbass."

Rafe blinked.

Stella sat back like she hadn't just said that. "Not like that," she added quickly. "I just... I see you. Not the version everyone else does."

Something shifted in his expression again. For a second, the guarded look cracked—just enough to show something behind it. Not soft, exactly. But real.

Then the moment passed, and he stood up slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Come on," he said, glancing down at her.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "Anywhere but here."

Stella stood, still a little wobbly. "Wow. Rafe Cameron playing getaway again. What is has world coming to?"

He didn't respond, just held the door open for her, waiting. And for once, she didn't overthink it. She followed him into the night.