The Brightest Star

Chapter 2

The car ride to Dom's house is completely silent. I lean my head against the window and watch the rain. He sits beside me in the backseat, angrily typing on his phone. He's changed a lot since I saw him last, more than just his looks. He's colder than he used to be; more iced over and hardened in his features. I truly wonder what happened after he left to make him this way.

We grew up in a small town where poverty and petty crime reign supreme. We didn't have much but I always made sure we made the most of it. My parents saved for months to throw me an eighteenth birthday party. It was amazing, all of my friends and family were there. That's when Dom gave me my necklace; a symbol of the nickname he gave me.

And then he disappeared the next day. He didn't say goodbye, didn't even leave a note, he just left. I was half convinced he died until tonight.

The car pulls to a stop in front of a beautiful mansion. Men wearing all black pace the area and the driveway is full of identical SUVs. Ivy stretches up the brick walls and the driver comes to open my door.

I look at Dom over my shoulder and he nods once before I climb out. I look up at the house in awe. I've never seen anything like it.

"C'mon," Dom says, urging me inside with his hand on my lower back.

The interior is almost intimidating. Dark hardwood floors encompass the building. People bustle around; men in suits and women in what looks to be maid uniforms. Classical paintings and sculptures adorn the soft crème walls. There's a winding staircase with deep red carpeting and wrought iron railings.

"You live here?" I ask, glancing up at him as he leads me to the staircase.

"I do," he replies simply.

He brings me up to the third floor before swinging open a dark wood door. Inside is an immaculately clean bedroom with charcoal walls and a king sized bed. The furniture is all a dark oak and Dom brushes past to step into another doorway.

I slowly walk around the room. There's almost no decorations, no personal touches, it must be a guest room.

"Here," Dom says, walking back into the room with a pile of folded clothes, "they're going to be big but it's all I have."

I take the clothes from him and follow him to another doorway. He gestures to the bathroom and I step inside. White tiles cover the walls and floor with shining silver fixtures. I shut the door and turn to look at myself in the mirror.

My makeup has smeared down my cheeks and the curls I spent hours perfecting are limp and wet. Today was supposed to be a happy day; the start of my future. But instead my chest is tight and my legs feel weak. I grab a washcloth from the counter and run it under the water before wiping my face clean.

I pull off my rain soaked dress and slip into the clothes Dom gave me. The sweatpants barely fit and I have to pull the tie as tight as possible to keep them on my hips. I put on the t-shirt and drape my wet clothes over the shower rod.

I take a shaky breath before going back into the bedroom. Dom is sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. His gaze snaps up when I enter and he smiles softly at me.

"Sei carina con i miei vestiti," he says as I approach him.
(You look cute in my clothes)

"Is this your room?" I ask hesitantly.

"It is," he nods, "why?"

"It's so boring," I reply as I sit beside him, "you used to have stuff all over your room."

Every inch of his bedroom walls were covered in record covers growing up. He had a vintage record player that was always on and all the different pieces to a bunch of skateboards, although the never learned to skate.