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May, The Second Year. 1 new voicemail from Beckett Ford. It's our anniversary, Elle. Our band's completely formed now and we might be going on tour soon. Brooks is pretty nice, I guess. Your song was a huge hit. I know now that you actually blocked me on everything so technically I can say whatever shit I want.
I know you're getting pretty big in the modelling world now, because I searched you up. I'm living in New York, you're living in New York, we're both in New York. But we haven't seen each other yet. And maybe I'm getting a little mad at you, mostly just upset, but come on- can't you just give me a call? Like, if you don't want to, you don't even have to get back together with me. I'd just like to explain myself. And I think I deserve a chance to.
Anyway, whatever. Happy Anniversary if it's even happy anymore. _______ May, The Second Year 2 new voicemails from Beckett Ford. Sorry, I wasn't having the best morning. Ignore what I said in the previous voicemail. _______
Brooks and I tug a plastic Christmas tree box into the elevator with the stupidest disguise on, getting weird looks from people around us. There's another little kid in the elevator with us standing across with his mom holding his hand.
"Hang on, you guys are the Fallen Stars, right?" the mom asks as she looks at us with raised eyebrows.
"Uh-" I look to Brooks for help.
"Yes," Brooks answers with a shrug, knowing putting our hoods over our heads doesn't really work that well.
"May I have a picture with you guys? My daughter's a huge fan of yours," she asks politely, and I don't really see why not, considering she asked so nicely too.
"Sure." I shuffle to the left of the woman while Brooks goes to the right as she takes a selfie with us.
"Thank you," the woman says as the elevator door opens and she gets out, quickly waving to us before the doors close again.
The elevator moves towards Elle's floor as we keep going up.
"Have you even asked Elle if she's home yet?" Brooks looks at me awaiting my answer.
"Well- no, but she probably is, isn't she?" I realize I probably should've asked before coming up here. Shit.
"You better hope so, 'cause I'm not waiting out here with you, I gotta go home for Christmas Eve, my parents and brothers are waiting in my goddamn house in the state, I'm scared of what they find if they snoop around," Brooks tells me as the doors open and we drag the box back out.
"What do you have in your house that you're scared of them finding? I'm pretty sure they know you're not 15 anymore being caught with porn magazines," I joke, my voice muffled by the long cardboard box separating us.
"They're snoopers. I'm scared I accidentally left something there I wasn't supposed to," he groans and I imagine his eyes rolling in annoyance.
As we reach Elle's door, Brooks begins setting his side down until the box is laid widely on the floor.
