Page 79 of Fa-La La-La Land
We make it back to her mum’s without too many problems, the main one being I wanna go faster than she’s willing to allow on my first time behind the wheel. Once we’re there, we get the portable generator set up. The house is ice cold, and it’ll take more power than the generator’s got to warm it up quick, so I build another fire. The air smells faintly of smoke and melted snow—a sharp mix of ash and cold metal.
“The generator can power our phones. We could check messages,” Stella says softly once we’re bundled up in front of the fireplace, more s’mores fixings at the ready.
“Yeah, nah. Isn’t there something on your list about not looking at your phone for a whole day?”
“You’re right.” Her voice spikes with relief. “Gotta prioritize the list.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “And just the two of us—nice change, yeah?”
No point diving into whatever chaos is waiting for us when we can’t do a thing about it now. VibeHouse still has me by the throat, but for one night, it doesn’t matter. If I could, I’d stay right here forever. Not just Paradise, but this quiet place that’s only Stella and me.
‘Course I could do without the snow. Don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.
We don’t get to the s’mores tonight. We’re too tired. Instead, we lie in front of the fire making plans for crossing other things off Stella’s list. By my count, now that she’s made an exception (number thirty) to not falling in love (number one), she’s halfway done, and it only took a couple of months. I reckon we can knock out the rest in the next year, even if we move at a leisurely pace.
Stella falls asleep mid-sentence with her head on my chest. I stroke her hair and kiss her forehead, then close my own eyes.
The power clicks on in the early morning. The heater sputters to life, and the overhead lights flood the living room where we’re sleeping, but there’s only darkness outside the curtains. The sound of the heater feels too loud after a night of silence. Stella presses her face into my chest and groans.
“Storm’s passed. If power is on, the utility company’s been able to get to the station in the canyon. Road’s open.” she mumbles.
I know what she really means. I’m thinking the same thing. “We could turn the lights off—pretend we’re still stuck here.”
“Okay.” She winds her arm across my chest and burrows in deeper.
I shift my weight. My arm’s fallen asleep, and my body aches from being in the same position for too long, but I don’t want this moment to end.
A few minutes later, Stella groans again. “I think I’m about to cross off number twenty-eight.”
“Which one’s that?” I reckon I know, but I don’t want to.
“Say no to something that doesn’t feel right,” she says before pushing herself up. “We’ve gotta face this thing now, Rhys.”
I tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. A few more minutes of peace would be worth facing the storm twice over, but I guide her face to mine for a deep kiss. “You’re right,” I say when we break apart, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “But if this is the last quiet moment we get, I’m holding onto it for as long as I can.”
Reluctantly, we climb out of our makeshift bed and plug in our mobiles. While they power up, we down enough coffee and toast to wake us up and fill our stomachs before facing the onslaughtof texts and voice messages that are sure to be waiting for both of us.
“A dozen voicemails—most of ’em from Danny—and fifty-three texts,” I say when my screen comes to life.
“Trade ya.” Stella volleys. “Two dozen voicemails and a couple hundred texts.”
I shake my head. “Cheers, love. Have fun.”
I scan my voice messages before opening one from Dex—I’ll work my way up to Danny—but Stella swipes my phone before I can press play.
“La-La, what?—”
“People love it!” She flips her mobile around to show me the video of my show at the Garden. “A million likes, Rhys. Amillion!”
I take her mobile and look at the TikTok again, then scroll through the comments. My hands tremble. There are some negative ones—critics skeptical of my new sound, but the bulk of ‘em are positive. After a year of trolls coming at me, it’s hard to believe what I’m reading.
The Rhys James I’ve been waiting for!
More please!
!
Fa-La Whhhhhat?
