SUPERNOVA | ❝Don't think, just do.❞
When TOPGUN calls, the pilots flock, with no clue of the trials they are about to face. It brings old friends together, everyone from former TOPGUN classmates to childhood friends - they come and go into each...
┌───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────┐ FIVE ground control to major tom └───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────┘
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BRADLEYhas done a lot of waiting in his life, but somehow this is the most nerve-wracking thing so far. And why should it be? He didn't drive all the way down here from college in his dad's Ford Bronco, not to mention renting a tuxedo for this whole thing... all to be left standing on a doorstep with a corsage in his hand and butterflies in his stomach. What is he, twelve?
This is a favour. A favour for a friend, and nothing more. He's done this whole prom thing before.
He straightens up instantly — practice for the navy, he supposes — as the door opens to reveal Manny Sterling standing there. A pair of reading glasses sit on his nose, staring down at the boy through them, but with a warmth that Bradley definitely knows the father of his real prom date never showed. It calms the nerves simmering beneath his skin only marginally.
"Mr. Sterling," Bradley says, before doing a double take. When has he ever called Manny that?
"Bradley," Manny smiles, "I'm sure she'll be down in a moment... if we can get her out of her room."
They both just chuckle at that, because they both know it's true. He's surprised Celeste is even going to prom at all. She can often find way too many reasons just to stay at home, cooped up inside the comfort of her bedroom. It was only after Bradley offered to take her, if it meant she would feel more comfortable, that she agreed. That was the offer to seal the deal — and now here he is, sweaty palms and a rented tuxedo slightly too short in the sleeves. Other college freshmen might have better things to do... but not everyone is a wingman like Bradley Bradshaw.
"Wow, you cleaned up good..."
Celeste's voice reaches Bradley before she does, carefully trying to traverse the staircase in her sandals.
For a moment, he thinks he forgets how to breathe. Celeste's uncertainty of herself, slightly gauche and out of her comfort zone, is simply so hidden by everything else that Bradley barely notices it. The midnight blue dress is only the surface of it — how beautiful she is. Maybe he always knew it in some shape or form, but it's still strange to consider her in this light. When normally she is the friend he played tag with on the beach, or the one he rang up when his mother was dying... she is suddenly the girl in the dress he's awestruck to be taking out.
Neither of them seem to know how to navigate the next minute or so. Plenty of jokes to break the atmosphere, some strained laughter, all borne of this situation that neither Bradley or Celeste can fathom why it feels so unnatural. It isn't until the door is shut behind them and they're living on the inhale/exhale of the summer air, that Bradley finally finds he can breathe again.
