Stellar Step to a 1001 Mile Journey

Ever wondered what your life would become had you not followed your parents' wishes? Stellar always did.

Half a year ago, Stellar finished her degree with flying colors no matter how much she hated it.

It wasn't her first pick during enrollment, but her mother insisted that business management was the path she envisioned for Stellar.

Growing up, she dreamed about being a filmmaker, just like her dad, after spending her childhood wandering in film sets and watching him work behind the lens.

Deep inside, Stellar knew that when it was her turn to pick a degree, her mom would intervene, like how it had been since time immemorial.

When the fateful day came for her to choose which path to take: the paved path her mother made for her or the rough and tree-lined path into an unknown future—Stellar picked the former for the sole reason that she was afraid to disappoint her mom.

Choosing something that she didn't plan for herself, Stellar went ahead and studied for years but never forgot her first love, joining the theater group of their university to hone her knowledge and skill set in the art of filmmaking on the side.

She didn't notice the pages of the calendar flying as the seasons changed and years added on until it was time for her to step up the stage to commence the four fleeting years of her life.

If she was to compare her high school years to her university years, she'd pick her college years in a heartbeat.

It was four glorious years of half playing around getting drunk with college buddies and half cramming mountain high term papers, which she ignored for months until it was the due date.

Coincidentally during the week of her graduation, Cassy also graduated from law school, which was a two-hour plane ride to the southern tip of their country.

It was the reason why their mother adjusted her travel window time in order not to miss Stellar's graduation. However, timing and fate had a cruel way of messing things up, which was why, to Stellar's disappointment, her mother was a no show that time.

Stellar was hurt. She felt neglected and unloved. It was a good thing that Aki was there to cheer her on. However, betrayal felt like a bee sting with her mom's absence.

She thought that after four years of committing herself to a degree she never really enjoyed, all she got in return was a heaviness in her heart caused by the very person who pushed her to go down the path she took.

After the graduation rites that morning, Stellar spent the rest of the day partying with her friends and drowning herself with alcohol.

'One last shot,' she repeatedly told herself, yet she drank glass after glass of colorful concoction.

The next thing she knew, she woke up in a hospital bed feeling as if she fell from a cliff and her head aching as though it was split in half.

What added to her confusion was seeing Beau by her side, looking worried and annoyed at the same time.

He narrated that after searching for her for hours; he found her passed out in their driveway with one of her legs still inside the car and a big purple bruise on her forehead.

When she asked him why he was looking for her, he responded that his assistant told him that she was spotted partying in a club uptown, but the man he sent to watch over her lost Stellar when he got distracted by another drunk club patron.

Initially, she found Beau's statement about keeping an eye on her without her knowledge or consent was creepy. But he was handsome, and she had a huge crush on him, so she let it pass.

Plus, she didn't have to put malice over his intentions since they were neighbors and they practically grew up together, so it was understandable that he would be worried about her well-being.

But the questions in her head materialized when her tongue wagged itself as Stellar wondered out loud why Beau would send someone to follow her.

She wanted to take back her words, but Beau came clean and confided that he had his eyes on her for a long time.

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, painting a blush on her cheeks. She wished that Beau liked her the same way she liked him.

It was her best-kept secret. She never let one soul know of her silly crush on him and resorted to looking at him from the sidelines for years because she had an inkling that their mothers had a pact hidden somewhere stating that Cassy and Beau would get married in a fairytale wedding of their choosing someday.

That thought made her afraid of confessing her feelings. Add it to the fact that he was too perfect for someone as tainted as her.

Someone who didn't have control like her. Someone who would drunkenly pass out anywhere she could.

Stellar was not a saint. Behind her prim and proper outfits was a stupid and carefree child.

A child who sought refuge in the illusion of alcohol intoxication and the confidence boost it gave her introverted self.

Her random trip to the hospital wasn't new. Throughout her university days, she would go on a drinking spree to relieve her stress and had to be hooked up to an IV drip after a mild case of dehydration.

Through it all, no matter how sticky the situation she got into over the past years, Stellar never stopped with her lack of control from drinking alcohol.

It was her escape, and her way to release her tension. Nobody should tell her what to do with her body.

Everything changed when Beau stepped into the line that no one dared to cross. He watched over her the entire summer, making sure that she won't touch a single drop of alcohol.

He was so successful in curbing her addiction. She stopped craving the heat of amber liquid tracing a line as it traveled down her throat in exchange for Beau spending the night in her bedroom.

As you see, after her hospitalization, Beau would sneak up on her bedroom every night, reading her a bedtime story if he wouldn't smell a drop of alcohol on her. At first, she thought it was a win-win for her.

She could heal herself from her addiction, and she had Beau to keep her company. The first few nights were rough, though.

One day, she tried to take a sip during lunchtime, but Beau still got a whiff off on her. Seeing the disappointment in his face, Stellar did her best to ignore the whispering pleas of her cravings and pulled up her big girl pants.

There was something about seeing him disappointed at her. It was as if she let down that single person who dragged her out of the gutter without reprimanding her.

Soon, their ritual turned into two weeks of Beau welcoming himself daily in their home undetected by their mothers.

One night, Stellar and Beau were sitting on her bed with their backs leaning on the headboard.

They just finished reading another chapter of Arabian Nights and silently sat in comfortable silence.

Gathering her courage, Stellar told Beau to stop his visits lest she started giving it a meaning.

She poured her heart out, explaining that his presence made her daydream of a happy ending with him and it gave her false hope that he, too, felt the same way as she did.

To her surprise, Beau told her flatly that he had no intention of leaving her alone unless she didn't feel the same way as him.

"What did you just say?"

"Which part? That I have no intention of leaving? Or the part that I won't leave unless you like me?"

Stellar took a sharp inhale. "Yeah, The 'like' part." Narrowing her eyes, she wasn't giddy at all after hearing his confession.

It was blurry and confusing, and a voice of reason told her to put her walls up to protect herself from heartbreak.

Like? Like how much? Like as a friend? As a sister? As a lover? Who knows? She was apprehensive about his profession.

When she asked him to explain further what he felt for her to avoid confusion and misunderstanding between them, he confessed that he had been harboring feelings for her for a very long time.

"It has always been you, precious."

"Me?"

Beau nodded. Stellar's thoughts spiraled down. If someone you like for a very long time confessed that he liked you back, would you shout for joy or would you pass out?

To Stellar's horror, she farted. She farted so loud and so bad; she wanted to pretend it wasn't her, but there were only the two of them in her bedroom, and she was a hundred and one percent sure that Beau Spencer's farts were made of glitters.

Guilty of the sound and smell she expelled, she cried ugly tears. She wondered how he could like someone like her? And if he did, how could he still love her after killing him with her fart?

Beau broke into a fit of laughter, clutching his belly as he rolled on the waterbed.

The sound cleared whatever green smoke suspended in the air. The melodious sound infected Stellar, that she ended up laughing as well.

"Stellar? Are you okay?" Aster, Stellar's mom knocked on her bedroom door. She must have heard the commotion inside and rushed over to check in on her.

Covering Beau's mouth, Stellar stuttered, "Yeah. I'm okay. Just watched something funny."

"Okay. Don't stay up too late. Doctor's orders."

"Mmm. Night, Mom."

Stellar heard another knock on the door. It was her mom's way of saying goodnight to her.

Shifting on her seat, her eyes met Beau's, and she felt his tongue dart out, licking her palm that was still covering his mouth.

"Ewww," she said, yanking her hand off of his mouth. She wiped her palm on his crisp white shirt and snorted.

"Ewww says the one who dropped a gas bomb." Beau then held her wrist hostage, grasping it before sliding his hand to interlace their fingers as one.

The smile on Stellar's face dropped. She watched in pain as Beau planted a soft kiss on every knuckle on her hand. "Beau," she exasperated. "Please don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Make me fall really hard and lead me to a path of no redemption."

"I loved the sound of that."

"No. You don't understand. I get easily attached and I obsess over things and overreact to them. I'm not… perfect for you."

"Who said you have to be perfect? You just have to be you, precious."

For a stolen moment in time, Stellar believed Beau's words.

She lived in bliss for months until one day, at the start of summer's solstice, she woke up alone on her bed… and Beau became a part of a memory she wished to forget.