Chapter Text
“Sam, may you, please, get down from the table?” said Ethan. “They’re watching.”
“Does anyone care?!” Sam put his hand behind his ear, listening for the negative answers. “Nope! Time to cut loose, Ethie! It’s your party!”
And he moved his hips in a frantic rhythm while spinning his tie.
The secondhand embarrassment felt painful, Ethan’s cheeks flushing quickly. Did his brother have to drink so much?
He sighed and searched for Dottie. Claiming nausea would give her a reason to end the party early. It wasn’t exactly untrue, and it wouldn’t harm anyone.
While walking, Ethan met countless strangers who wished him a happy birthday. He expected the party to be grand, but he didn’t expect the cruise to be this crowded. The Prices and their network… Was it normal to know these many people?
A big hand fell on Ethan’s shoulder and he turned around to see Ruben. “Do you know where your mother is?”
“No, I was looking for her.” He gently took his hand off. “What happened?”
“I’m really sorry, Ethan, but I’ll have to leave first. The administration called an online meeting and it’s about to start.” Ruben sighed. “If you find her, could you tell her why I left? And tell her to keep some snacks for me.”
“Sure, I’ll tell.”
He’s so lucky. He gets to leave because of work, even when he doesn't want to. Ethan wanted to, yet he had to stay. Why couldn't life work as he wished?
“Hey, buddy, are you fine?” He crossed his arms. “You can take a break if you’re overwhelmed. It’s common to feel nervous in crowds, you see? I was nervous when I first needed to do an interview!”
Ethan smiled faintly. Ruben was the best dad ever; he noticed Ethan’s feelings, can you believe it? “I know. I’ll get better soon. Thanks for worrying, Ruben.”
“Mr. Price,” called the secretary guy, ”five minutes to the meeting.”
“Okay, I’m going!” Ruben brushed Ethan’s hair with his fingers and smiled. “Have a nice night, champ. Rest if you need it, because tomorrow we’ll have some fun to compensate. Don’t get mad at me until then!”
“It’s alright, I understand it.” He giggled softly, appreciating the paternal gesture. “You better go, it’ll be bad if you get late.”
Saying goodbye, each of them took their paths. Ethan felt a pang of longing when he disappeared into the crowd, as if it somehow made him moodier than before.
Ruben was the nicest and the easiest to deal with, but he was unbelievably busy. He left all the time, sent texts and pics of his travels, and came back within weeks.
But it was great that he came back. Not everyone did.
Ethan shoved the thought away, burying it like he always did. Thinking about it now wouldn’t change anything—it never had.
He kept searching for the business’ group, where Dottie’s friends stayed, and soon he found her curly hair gossiping among the others. She was probably busy too; should he interrupt? It wasn’t like he would take much of her time, and it was kinda important for him.
But what if it wasn’t this significant? Maybe Ethan was being dramatic. He shouldn’t end their fun just because he was tired. Dottie spent so much with him, Ruben was working hard to cover it, and Sam was happy with the party. It wasn’t right to crumble their joy because he didn't like it. They didn’t deserve it.
With clenched hands, Ethan stepped back to hide himself in the crowd. However, a voice stopped him.
“Ethan, honey!” Dottie waved at him and everyone saw it. “Come here!”
Unbelievable. Does she have a sixth sense?
He scowled and paced between the guests again, lurching with the ship swaying. He probably stepped on a few feet, bumped into backs, and spilled drinks along the way…
She brought him closer with a tight hug, and his head spun. Her saccharine cologne and personal invasion weren't good for his stomach.
“What are you doing here, Ethie? Ain’t you supposed to be with your friends?”
“Oh, so this is the adopted son!” a blonde interfered. “Ethan Yaneh, or should I say, Ethan Price? Your mother mentioned you the entire month. Happy birthday, by the way.”
He strained his lips. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, too, ma’am.” He pushed his suit’s collar and glanced at Dottie, leaning closer. “Ruben said he’d leave for a meeting. He asked for snacks. And I guess I’m a bit sick, can I go to my room?”
Dottie’s eyebrows frowned up, but another woman talked before she could. “Eighteen years old and he clings to you?” she mocked. “Boys nowadays mature later, right? Or is he trying to get a place in the family?”
His face scrunched as he kept the smile. He wished to say things about her maturity. Picking a fight with a teenager? Bad-mouthing? Being a bully? Exerting his self-control proved to be a hard task.
“He’s fitting on the family greatly,” intervened Dottie. “Sam is his best friend, so their relationship only improved as brothers.”
Ethan nodded, not contradicting Dottie. Sam was indeed his best friend, but he was… complicated. A headache, always dragging him into situations he didn’t want to be in.
A tall woman, Dottie’s sister, addressed him. “Have you already met my daughter, I suppose? You couldn’t go to Christmas supper, but she was thrilled to meet you before leaving.”
He Googled his brain’s files, trying to find a similar face in his memory, but nothing came to mind. “I… I guess I didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t… I was distracted while walking,” he rushed to stop talking. “Sorry.”
She laughed and pinched his cheek. “Aren’t you cute when talking? So polite and well-behaved!” He bit his tongue and looked away. “Don’t worry, you will know when you meet her. The opposite of you, she loves to cause commotions.” She rolled her eyes playfully.
“It’s been a long time since I saw her,” Dottie added. “Ethan might be shy, but I’m sure they will do great.” She turned at him. “She is beautiful and nice, Ethie! You’ll love to meet her.”
And there she goes, getting him a new girlfriend.
“Of course.” He gritted his teeth and held Dottie’s wrist. “Excuse us for a moment? It will be pretty quick, I promise.”
Ethan pulled Dottie away from there, futilely trying to find a quieter place. The music was so lousy, and the chatter was getting on his nerves. His ears would bleed at any time if they didn’t stop it for at least a second…
“What’s it, Ethan?” she asked when they arrived at the bar, her worried tone overlapped by the music.
“Can we end the party?” He got a seat. “I guess it’s enough. The ship is a bit… you know,” too much, too luxurious, too full, too noisy. “…it moves a lot. I’m not feeling fine. Maybe I ate too much?” He glanced at her. “Can we sing Happy Birthday now and then go to sleep?”
Dottie held his face in her hands, leaving a light kiss on his head. “Ethan, the party started now, dear.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “Can’t you rest a bit here, then come back when you are fine again? The bar isn’t that crowded because your friends are on the dance floor,” she pointed at Sam’s friends jumping like frogs. He was also there, stumbling on the wind and almost falling.
He wanted to complain, to throw a tantrum, to scream and run, all at once. But it would be childish, and people would talk about him. He didn’t want to be a spoiled brat, leeching off their kindness.
“Alright,” he scratched his neck, and his skin burned. “I’ll wait here. You can go back. Sorry for bothering you.”
“You’re never a bother, Ethie.” She patted him. “Relax a little. I will be right there if you need something, okay?”
He nodded tight and curved his lips as she went away. His jaw clenched as he drifted to some stubborn thoughts that he couldn’t help but feed.
If it was his mum, she wouldn’t have done that. If it was her, she’d take him home. She’d hug him and cuddle together until they fell asleep. Just the two of them.
But it wasn’t her, and he knew it would never be again. He should stop thinking like that.
Now alone, he ordered a milkshake. Maybe a cold drink would make him chill off, or maybe not. It seemed impossible with this salty smell and amount of noise. He had a nail hammered into his head, relentlessly snapping him in half at each vibration of the music.
Ethan leaned his elbows on the counter, drinking the strawberry cream, when a soft voice broke into. “You mind if I sit here?”
All the music seemed to disappear. The nuisance vanished. His mind shut up. It was like magic.
“Noish—” He seized the girl, and the sight struck him as thunder.
She slid into the seat beside him and set her bag on the counter. Her legs crossed, and a scarlet smile played on her lips.
“Noish?” A cascade of curls fell over her shoulder when she tilted her head.
He flinched, dropping the crumpled cup. The bitten straw got a weird shape, and some milkshake spilled on the counter. Oh my Gosh…
“No.” He wetted his lips, eyes fixed on the pink mess. “I mean… It’s fine, I don’t mind. Sorry, uh, about this…” He bit his lower lip, gesturing at the bartender. “Excuse me, do you have a tissue? I spilled some…” He glanced at her. “It didn’t fall on you, did it? I’m sorry.”
“It didn’t,” she answered, her tone breezy. Her gaze lingered on him, unflinching. “You’re Ethan, right? Sam’s brother? Or should I say, ‘the pretty boy with blue hair’?”
Pretty boy? Ethan’s ears burned. Of all the stupid nicknames Sam could’ve used…
“Haha… he said it?” He glanced at her, seeing she was still smiling at him.
The epitome of beauty knows him as a laughingstock. Damned Sam. Couldn’t he say it at another time, to another person?! Anyone but her!
The bartender cleaned everything and got a glass of wine for her. Compared to his milkshake, it posed her as so adult. She wasn't much older than him, but she passed the vibe, sipping the drink with such elegance. On the other hand, Ethan fiddled with his fingers like a primary child.
“Can you, like, tell me…” He cleaned his throat. “Can you tell me your name?”
“What?” she leaned at him and gestured to her ear.
Too close. Goodness. Damned music.
“Your name!” he tried louder.
“Ah, I didn’t say?” She laid the glass and reached out for a shake. “I’m Maya, Sam’s cousin. It’s great to meet the famous boy.”
He mirrored her smile. She probably was that woman’s daughter, the “commotive” one.
“I also heard about you. Your mother told me I’d know who you are in sight.”
Maya huffed. “Right, doing it again.” She leaned back with a smirk. “I don’t know why, but she insists on painting me as some kind of ‘troublemaker’. I am a good person; even you can see it, can’t you?”
The lights cast a yellow glow in her eyes as her gaze pierced him, daring him to speak the truth.
“Well, troublemaker wouldn’t be the word, but…” He weighed his words. “You’re intriguing. And interesting?”
She raised an eyebrow, resting her head on her hand. “Is that your way of telling me I’m alluring?”
A flush crept across his cheeks. Why did she say that? Was this flirting? Was she wooing him? Mocking him? Messing with him?
“I, like—I didn’t—you, you’re not like?… Like, you are, but I, I wasn’t meaning… I just said! I wasn’t thinking!” he blurted the words, moving his hands around.
Ethan stared at the floor and kept his mouth shut. Now, why did he say that?! Did his brain stop?! What on Earth?!
His hands were sweating against his pants when her laughter broke through the music.
An uncontrollable body and a wrinkled face; that’s how she laughed, as if they were close friends with no need to be ashamed. Somehow, hearing her made his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful.
“Ethan!” she exclaimed, “you’re the funniest pretty boy I ever met, did you know it?!”
He would die of overheating soon if she kept teasing him, but for the first time in here, his smile was genuine.
“C’mon,” she gripped his hand, “the music is hurting my ears. I know a quieter place.”
Before he could settle what she said, Maya pulled him into the crowd. She was quick, and, despite his clumsiness, Ethan kept the pace. He could breathe with her. He could feel alive again.
Blurs crossed his vision and people disappeared as they walked. Soon, the party got muffled, far away, and they were alone on the deck.
The salty smell clung to Ethan’s nostrils, and the waves soothed his heart with a slow cadence. He couldn't see stars, but the moon shared its light with them, driving the darkness away. Or was it those floating lights?
Maya was radiant when Ethan approached them. He was acting like a curious cat, touching the orbs and getting startled when one exploded. “What’s it? Smoke bubbles?”
“I can’t tell you, it’s a secret.” She got smug, proud of herself as Ethan dissolved more lights in the air.
But he soon realized that it was silly. A man at his age, playing with bubbles… What would Maya think of him? She’d say he was like a child. Playing around instead of talking to her; that’s stupid.
Sweeping an invisible dirt of his suit, he stepped away from the lights. “Uh, that’s cool. I guess.” My God, his ears were so hot against the wind. She surely would notice it…
However, Maya leaned on the handrail, gaze locked on him. “Beautiful, innit? I lose my breath when I see it.”
He swallowed hard, leaning beside her. She was looking at him, but she was talking about the lights—had to be, right? There was no way she meant him. Yet her tone lingered, soft and deliberate, and the brush of her arm against his sent a jolt through his chest. His mind raced. Was this just her way of teasing? Or… could she actually mean it? The thought was dizzying. She seemed too perfect, too composed. What could she possibly want with someone like him?
“Maya—”
“Do you like being here, Ethan?”
He coughed three times, pretending he didn't get interrupted. Played it off. Be cool.
“Yeah. Here is… calm. That was overwhelming.” He bit the inside of his cheeks. “I know Dottie is doing this for my happiness, and Sam was so excited the whole week… but I don't know. Guess I’m not made for people.”
“I didn't mean the place, Ethie.” She turned to him, laying a hand on his forearm. “The people. Do you like being here, in this family? With those friends?”
He blinked, feeling his skin burning under her touch. Her hazel eyes were concentrated, serious. What is it out of the blue?
“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”
She intertwined their arms together, leaning her forehead on them. “I'm worried. You seemed tragically sad holding that milkshake, did you know? Anyone could mistake you with an abandoned puppy.”
The anxiety of having her close changed. Her last words hit him like a bullet in his chest, awakening a feeling he tried to bury.
His mind came back 8 years ago, holding a pathetic goodbye letter. He was lost then, and remained lost now; looking for somebody who will never come back, expecting an explanation from strangers, with a stupid hope that she might tell him her reasons.
Hey, he’s 18 now. Couldn’t she appear to say “Happy Birthday”? At least spare him a gaze, stop pretending she's a ghost, maybe meet him on the street, tell him how she's doing, if she has another son, or she could send somebody to tell him if she's alive.
Why did she have to leave like that?
“You okay?” Maya gripped his arm, grounding him back. “Sorry for the word, I—”
“It’s fine,” he cut. “It’s in the past. I have a family now, and they’re good for me. I love them, you know?”
She stared at him like a predator, her eyes never leaving his face. Ethan tried, but he couldn’t keep up with her scrutiny.
“Why are you looking away?”
“I’m not.” He clenched his jaw. “I’m looking at the view.”
“Ethan, please.” She held his chin and pulled his face. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“I’m not, why would I do that?” He tried to shrug her off, but she cupped his face with both hands, making his breathing uneven.
“Because you’re not happy. You’re lying to yourself.”
Ethan frowned. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
”I’m not.”
“Ethan.”
He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, his expression faltering. What’s up with this clairvoyant girl? Why is she reading him like a book? Why is she so insistent? And why does he feel the need to explain everything to her?
“I’m not… unhappy.” He hated the way his voice cracked. “I’m…” His eyebrows tilted, watching some orbs vanish as if the pressure was hitting them as well.
Meanwhile, Maya was waiting. She didn’t reply to Ethan's failed attempt to lie, merely kept breathing with him, steady.
How can someone, completely different from him, still be willing to listen to his thoughts, even when he made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk about it? Why was she trying? And why was it working?
“I might be lying, but…” His lips were trembling, so he pressed them tightly to stop. “What's wrong about it? Is it bad to act happy? I need to try, because nothing will change if I keep mourning someone who wanted to disappear from my life. It’s not like it was my fault, right? I wasn’t the reason that she left. I didn’t do anything to make her upset about us; I was a good son, we were fine, and… It wasn’t my fault. I shouldn’t act like it was, right?”
Her gaze softened, and her thumbs moved over his cheeks. Unsure if he wanted to pull her closer or farther, Ethan closed his fists and eyes. Was she pitying him or concerned? Why did her touch make him… confused?
“It’s not wrong to desire happiness, Ethie, but it’s not the same as acting as if you’re happy.” Her voice gave him goosebumps. “Doesn’t it get tiring? To pretend you’re liking all of it?”
Her fingers slid down his neck and Ethan trembled, his hands barely grasping her waist.
“It’s better if you’re honest to yourself,” she continued. “Your heart knows what’s good for your mind, and you should hear it sometimes.”
Ethan finally looked at her, his vision clouded by inert tears. “My heart is so idiot and childish.”
“Pamper it a little, maybe it is annoyed that you don’t give it any attention.” Her hands stopped on his shoulders. “What do you really want, Ethie? This place? Those people? Me?” Her arms enlaced his neck and a knot tightened in his stomach. “Your mother?”
The cold breeze blew their hair, so peaceful, so the opposite of Ethan’s turmoil. He didn’t want to admit these feelings, to make them real by speaking out. Yet, Maya’s gaze was almost begging him to not lie. And, despite his facade of joy, Ethan was exhausted from hiding.
“Maybe I want you.” He swallowed and shook his head briefly. “And… I don’t think I want those people and this place. I never asked for this. They’re always supposing things about me, and I never have the chance to explain myself. It’s like I’m—alone all the time, and…” He exhaled, his hands gripping each other behind her. “And maybe… maybe I want my mum back.”
Maya smiled. Her hand traveled up his nape and pushed his head downward gently. “That’s how I like it, Yaneh. Honesty suits you better, considering your roots.”
His roots? What did she mean? Ethan should ask, but his mind slowed, his breath getting lost at the proximity of her tender lips. Lips that said those sweet words, that brought him in this warmth and made him feel things he shouldn’t. This girl he just met, the same one who was making him dizzy and vulnerable.
It didn’t make sense. It shouldn't be happening. What was going on?
“As a reward,” her voice lowered an octave, “I’ll give you everything you asked for, Son of The Sun, starting from… here…”
Her gaze fixed on his lips, and she pulled him down slightly. Ethan hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. What did she call him? Was this for real? Was this right? Why was he doing it?
He wanted to pull away, to demand answers, but her gaze held him, magnetic and unrelenting. His thoughts fractured, desire overpowering doubt.
Before he could give up, she pressed her lips on his. Slow at first, firm and careful, but it didn’t satiate him. The craving on his heart was unbearable, as if merging with her was the solution. Maya stood on tiptoe, deepening the kiss and undoing his tie.
She tasted like perdition.
They melted into a thoughtless haze, Ethan pulling her waist and numbing at the hot touches over him. He couldn't tell himself apart from her, from the world itself; where he started and where it ended. Was he flying? Running? Drowning? It was a storm yet peaceful.
Was this how it felt to be alive? But alive how? Something was horribly wrong. What could it be?
The world stilled, the storm within him fading to a repetitive whisper, an unanswered question:
Who was he?