🪐✨🌙I am not Moon🌙✨🪐

s i x t y - t h r e e

4:39 p.m.

Your POV

I step out of the taxi cab onto the concrete of the street, after paying for the ride. The sun hovers over the house casting a shine onto the building. The sound of the taxi driving off rumbles as I step towards the door. A feeling of nervous butterflies in my stomach flutter around as I walk up the steps. A scenario that something wrong will happen when I walk in plays in my mind like a bad movie or poor CD.

"It's just an old friend Y/N, nothing is going to happen," I tell myself, opening the door.

It still stays unlocked. I think, remembering the times when people have run into the "heaven" escaping from whatever they needed to escape from. Who would have thought that we'd call each other family. The house is oddly quiet, almost too quiet. The mellow melody of a saxophone echoes into my ears. Does she still play? I wonder, following the melody. I walk through the empty living area, past the leather couch with superhero blankets and toys stacked on top of it. I step over the children's plushies, pushing them closer towards the hallway wall to clear the walkway. I don't remember there being this many rooms. I notice the added rooms that were definitely not there when I lived here. The saxophone melody grows louder as I reach the top of the staircase, right in front of the attic. I stand there, in front of the door to the attic, staring. 

"You don't get to suddenly appear out of nowhere with this big glow up. You don't get to show up here gloating about how you're touring with this boy band. You don't get to say "I'm sorry" and expect me to just let you come back. You don't get to do that"

"Why can't you stay?"

Star's words from our previous encounter play again in my head with the image of her pain filled face jumps in front of me. I really am an asshole. I take a breath and quietly open the door, not wanting to disturb the musician. As if I am a ghost, I tip-toe up the wooden stairs - carefully and as quietly as I can. I place my hands on the railing of the stairs, letting my chin rest on top of them and listen to her play. There she is, Star, standing in the middle of the room her eyes are closed as she plays. I was always so fascinated by Star when she would play her saxophone. I don't know why she never continued with it as a full-time job, she's amazing. Even when a sharp and squeaky note pops out from her instrument - Star continues as if it was nothing. I miss hearing you play, so much. An extremely loud boom sound erupts, causing the both of us to jump and Star to stop playing.

"Fucking hell," Star curses.

"Well, hello to you too," I speak, verbally stepping out of the shadows.

"Y/N! You're here? Wh-When did you get here?" Star asks, taking her saxophone off to rest on the couch.

"A little while ago," I tell her.

"Did-did you hear-"

"Hear you play? Yes," I finish her sentence.

"You sounded great. I mean it," I compliment her.

"Thank you," Star replies.

I step onto the same floor as her, facing her. She still has the sweater. I notice the black pull-over hoodie with vibrant paint splatters with celestial patterns embroidered on that Star is wearing. The same one I gave her when we first started dating, the same hoodie that was too big on her and made her resemble Baymax from Big Hero 6. Now, the hoodie seems to fit her perfectly. And she still looks fantastic in it. 

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I ask, bouncing my arms off my legs.

"Oh, I-I wanted to say thank you," Star says.