The next morning couldn't come fast enough. I was desperate to leave. I couldn't endure another minute of my parents' quiet taunts, their judgmental glances, or the way they proudly paraded my two highly successful siblings in front of me. I had never felt like more of an outsider than I did this time.
When morning finally came, I left before anyone else was even awake. I had already said my goodbyes to Theo and Alexis the night before. As for my parents, I was sure they wouldn't even notice my absence, though if they did, they might even be relieved that their disappointing son was finally gone.
I didn't have a fancy car like my parents or my siblings. I drove a 2006 Ford Focus, nothing impressive, but I was proud of it because I had bought it with my own money.
Theo and Alexis had offered more than once to buy me something newer. Theo had even tried to gift me a car for my twenty-first birthday, but I refused. Unlike our parents, my siblings tried to help me financially whenever they could, and I loved them for it. Still, I always turned them down. I suppose my pride is a little too big for my own good.
Even last night, Theo offered again. He suggested I take his car for the summer. Since he lived in Los Angeles and our parents were in Sacramento, I would have to pass through LA on my way to Malibu anyway. His idea was simple: I could drive his car to Malibu and return it to him once the summer was over.
But I refused.
Theo drove a ridiculously luxurious car, far too expensive for someone like me to maintain, even for a few months. I knew he wouldn't expect me to cover any of the costs, but that wasn't the point.
I was an adult now. I needed to stand on my own.
About an hour into the drive, my phone started ringing. Jared's name flashed across the screen, and a small spark of excitement ran through me. I answered immediately.
"Hey, man," I said, keeping one hand on the wheel and my eyes on the road.
There was some rustling on the other end before Jared's husky voice came through, thick with sleep.
"Hey, Jerry," he murmured with a yawn. "You're already on the road?"
"Of course," I replied with a small laugh. "About six more hours and I'll be there."
"Nice," Jared said. "We got here late last night. The weather's crap though... It's been raining since midnight. Hopefully, it clears up by the afternoon." I imagined him standing somewhere on the balcony of that ridiculous Malibu beach house, looking out at the ocean.
"Kendrick's flight got delayed," he continued. "Apparently, New York's weather is a disaster, so he won't land until later. He said he'll Uber straight from the airport."
That sounded like Kendrick, flying across the country like it was nothing.
"Zayd's already on the road, too," Jared added. "He left San Francisco early this morning, so he'll probably be here before noon."
I nodded even though he couldn't see me.
"Ivory's coming tomorrow," he went on. "She couldn't leave Paris until tonight. Something about a last-minute meeting with a gallery or a designer... I didn't really catch the details."
Paris. Of course.
"And Liam's filming in LA," Jared said with a chuckle. "Some commercial or something. He said he'll swing by tonight after the shoot."
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I listened.
Flights from New York, meetings in Paris, and commercial shoots in Los Angeles. My friends were out there living big, successful lives... while I was driving my ten-thousandth mile down the highway in a fifteen-year-old Ford Focus.
A failed painter. A waiter trying to make ends meet.
For a moment, the road ahead blurred slightly as the thought settled in my chest, but I pushed it aside. This summer wasn't about that. At least... I hoped it wouldn't be.
I shook my head, trying not to be so hard on myself.
"That's good to know everyone's coming," I said with a small sigh.
Just then, I heard another voice in the background—a woman's voice. I frowned slightly.
"Wait," I said. "You said we. Who else is there with you?"
I didn't remember Jared mentioning anyone.
"Oh—yeah." Jared chuckled awkwardly. "Uh... Emma's here with me."
"Emma?" I repeated. "Who's Emma?"
"My girlfriend," he said, sounding almost sheepish.
I blinked in surprise. "You brought your girlfriend? And, hold on...you have a girlfriend? Since when?"
Jared laughed softly. "We've been seeing each other for a few months now. And hey, I couldn't just leave her behind." He paused before adding teasingly, "How would you feel if your boyfriend disappeared for two months to hang out with his friends? Not great, right?"
Yes, my friends knew I was gay, and they had been nothing but supportive. They didn't react with shock or awkward questions. To them, it was nothing out of the ordinary. They said, "Cool," and then life went on as if nothing had changed.
I let out a quiet sigh. "Good thing I don't have one then," I muttered.
Jared chuckled again. "Relax. She'll only be here for a couple of weeks. She has to go back to work after that."
"Yeah... it's fine, I guess," I muttered. What else could I say? I didn't want to sound like a bitter friend just because my best buddy had brought his girlfriend along.
"I'll call you later, Jared. I'm stopping for gas," I added, turning into a small station near Los Banos.
"Sure, I'll talk to you soon. Can't wait to see you all again," Jared said, his voice warm and easy.
I couldn't help but smile. "Same here, man," I replied before we hung up, then stepped out of the car to fill the tank, the morning air feeling crisp against my skin.
The drive from Sacramento to LA was tedious. It had taken me more than six hours to reach the city, and I still had about an hour left before the beach house. I was already exhausted and didn't want to drive another mile. I hated driving alone... the silence, the monotony, it wore on me. By mid-morning, I had grown sick of my playlist, and nothing seemed to make the hours pass any faster.
The only things keeping me somewhat entertained were the occasional messages and calls from Jared and Alexis. Our friend group chat was buzzing constantly, everyone updating each other on their locations and ETA. I'd only shared my live location once, back when I stopped in Kettleman City.
By the time I hit LA, my stomach was growling. I had left early in the morning and survived solely on snacks from gas station marts. I needed a proper meal to fuel myself for the final stretch to the beach house, so I pulled over at a small local café, coffee and something to eat before the last hour of driving.
The café I stopped at for lunch was small but undeniably posh. The people around me, softly chatting over their meals, dressed just so, looked like the kind of crowd my parents loved to be seen with. I felt out of place, but I reminded myself not to look at it.
There was something about me, though: I could survive on instant noodles and near-expiry rotisserie chicken from Costco, just so I could afford decent clothes and a small apartment in Midtown Sacramento. That frugality is probably why I can make this life work on my salary.
The food I ordered was expensive for me. A single serving of steak and eggs set me back around thirty-two dollars, likely the priciest meal I'd ever paid for entirely on my own money. But for once, I didn't mind. It felt like a small victory. When the food arrived, it was delicious. I hadn't tasted anything this good in a long time. Sure, my mother cooked well, but with her constant taunts and my father's piercing glare, it was often impossible to enjoy a meal at home.
I was busy devouring my steak and eggs when I noticed someone sitting at a far corner table. I glanced up randomly, and my eyes followed the diner as they passed by my table. They smelled... incredible. There was a subtle, intoxicating scent about him, musky and warm, with a faint sweetness that lingered in the air. Every movement he made teased my senses, and I couldn't look away.
I had never seen a man like him in my life. Sensual, mysterious, stunning... every head in the café seemed drawn to him. Dressed in all black, he scrolled through his phone, oblivious to the attention.
My eyes drifted to his forearms, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing firm muscles etched with elegant ink. Veins peeked through his skin, and I felt a flutter in my stomach, imagining his arms around me. My mind spun.
Then my gaze rose to his face... and I froze. Those honey-brown eyes weren't warm or inviting. They burned with anger, sharp and unyielding. Suddenly, I felt every bite of my lunch turn sour in my stomach. My face flared red, and I quickly looked away, but his glare didn't leave me. He was terrifying, and for a moment, I half-expected him to strike. He must think I'm a freak. I felt a wave of disgust with myself. I wanted to apologize for making him uncomfortable, but that would only make me look even creepier. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and suddenly lost all appetite. If anything, I just wanted to vanish.
I quickly asked the waitress to pack the rest of my food and bring the bill. Anxiety gnawed at me, and I chewed on my lower lip, restless. Despite my nerves, curiosity got the better of me, and I stole another glance at him, but he didn't even notice.
When the waitress returned with my bill and takeaway, I paid quickly and left without looking back. Phew... that was mortifying.
I hope that I will never see that beautiful man again. Hoped.