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The scorching sun beat down on the mere mortals who had dared to leave the comfort of their homes to venture onto the beach, indulging in icy waters and waves that crashed hard against distracted swimmers while offering a perfect ride for local surfers.
The sand was soft, making it a struggle for passersby trying to walk the long stretch of beach, yet providing a beautiful backdrop for anyone wanting to soak up the summery vibe the location naturally offered. That was exactly what Seraphine was doing.
She captured the sunlight gleaming off her sunscreen-protected skin using the modern lens of a new smartphone, a gift from a partnership with a famous mobile brand. She was a reasonably popular singer, boasting two million followers on a major social network and four million listeners streaming her music; her songs were typically described as sweet and mellow, with lyrics that took a lighthearted view of life, conveying the message that while the world could be tough at times, one should remember to have fun, too.
She experimented with different poses, deciding which ones to share on social media and which to keep in the personal album she reserved for friends. Engaging with her online community was one of her favorite things to do; Seraphine loved keeping fans updated with glimpses into her life. So, she decided to post a photo showing just her face and the golden section of her hair, with the stretch of sand and her own beach chair visible in the background.
Before long, her free time was spent reading comments from fans who sent hearts and asked where she was. Without giving too much away, the singer replied to one person, saying she was by the ocean right where she belonged. All around her, she could hear the sound of conversation and the powerful waves of a restless sea.
Until, suddenly, screams were heard…
“SHE’S CAUGHT IN THE CURRENT!” A man’s voice Seraphine doesn’t recognize rings out across the beach.
The moment Seraphine hears this, she feels a rush of air as a girl sporting voluminous, wavy red hair that falls to her neck and a matching red top and shorts on her dusky skin sprints toward the water, carrying nothing but a red rescue tube. Without needing to think twice, the singer assumes she must be the local lifeguard.
It all happens in the blink of an eye, with everyone on the beach turning their full attention to the unfolding drama. The lifeguard dives in and swims parallel to the shore toward the victim, keeping the red tube held high above the water. She approaches the drowning woman from behind and tosses the rescue tube, which the woman in distress instinctively grabs. The lifeguard then secures the tube’s strap around the victim, stabilizing her as she brings her back to the surface.
Unsure of what she can actually do, Seraphine decides to head toward the commotion; the lifeguard has laid the woman, whose dark blue hair contrasts sharply with the sand, on her side and is checking for injuries. Before Seraphine can reach them, a pale woman with short red hair shaved on one side arrives at the scene, looking on in a panic.
“Caitlyn!” the pale woman calls out, her body covered in tattoos that extend all the way down her back.
“She’s stable; Rell knows what she’s doing.” A male lifeguard with a crocodilian appearance arrives moments later, wrapping the woman named Caitlyn in a towel.
“Are you okay?” Seraphine asks, genuinely wanting to offer support, even though she has no professional expertise in the field.
The dark-haired woman, who had seemed to be recovering, suddenly turns pale as she looks at Seraphine. Rell immediately checks her pulse and pulls back part of the towel, wanting to examine the woman’s body again for signs of potential shock, her resuscitation and first-aid training never far from her mind. Rell, acting as a lifeguard, asks Seraphine to step aside and prepares to get the woman to an ambulance with her colleague, but then the woman opens her mouth and speaks.
“Oh my God, Seraphine, can I get an autograph?” the woman says, as if she hadn’t just emerged from a potentially life-threatening situation. “I’m a huge fan,” she adds, her accent coming through clearly.
The previously heavy atmosphere gives way to a wave of laughter. Rell, who had been worried about overlooking possible injuries, now wears the suppressed smile of someone trying to maintain a professional demeanor. The woman accompanying Caitlyn feels relieved, but is then struck by a wave of guilt.
“I just went to get the sunscreen from the car, and when I came back, she was...” the woman says, unable to finish her sentence.
“It’s not your fault; currents are unpredictable for the average person, but that’s when we come to the rescue." Rell said, offering comfort in her own way.
Now that Seraphine could see Rell standing still, she noticed details she hadn't caught while the lifeguard was running, details that made her think about how beautiful she was. Her red hair, darker at the roots, was now fully visible in its true length, soaked from the water. The lifeguard’s right arm was covered in black ink tattoos: waves, symbols, thorny roses, and a phrase across her defined shoulder muscle reading, ‘Never let anyone in.’
“You know, it’s her birthday tomorrow, and we were thinking of throwing a party,” the redhead accompanying Caitlyn said casually. “You’re invited.”
“Vi!” Caitlyn, now stable and still wrapped in a towel, found the strength to scold Vi, sounding embarrassed at having addressed her favorite singer so directly.
“I could never turn down a party invitation,” Seraphine said excitedly, and Vi gave her the address, the time, and her personal account details.
Some onlookers were still watching the scene, though the anxious atmosphere had lifted, and people were returning to what they had been doing before. To them, there was no longer any interest in a situation that had been resolved without fatalities.
“You need to get checked in a hospital now just to be sure; and don’t hesitate to visit the hospital again if you feel dizzy or notice anything else unusual over the next few hours.” Rell replied, her focus as a lifeguard undeterred by the moment of apparent stability.
“Alright, we will,” Vi said, preparing to leave alongside Caitlyn, who was still wrapped in her towel. "Oh, and my invitation extends to you too, Rell. An open bar is the least we could offer as a thank-you," she says with a smile.
"Ooh, so it’s going to be *that* kind of party, I can't wait." Seraphine is excited. "See you there, hero," the singer says to the redhead lifesaver, waving goodbye before heading back to where she was sitting earlier.
Rell is left unsure of how to respond to the two women; she simply grabs her rescue tube and speaks to the reptilian colleague who had been laughing at her, before returning to her post.
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-
There are many things that can make a person feel vulnerable. They range from giving the most important presentation of one’s career, a breakup, or grieving a loss, to a near-death experience, something Rell occasionally had to deal with. It was part of the job, something she had faced just the day before after saving Caitlyn.
But what was truly bothering Rell today was figuring out what to wear to the party. She had checked in with Vi to make sure they were both okay; everything was normal, and neither had suffered the after-effects that sometimes plague victims of drowning or strong currents. The party was happening today, and she was nervous... Seraphine would be there.
Rell was secretly a huge fan of Seraphine. A big reason she hadn't spotted the person caught in the current before the beachgoers did was that she had seen her favorite singer visiting the very beach where Rell worked every week right there in front of her. She hadn't been staring; that wasn't her intention. She just wanted to confirm it was really her and, if possible, speak to her and get an autograph. But, as someone with the worst luck in the world, a soul even unluckier than hers had gotten caught in the current just as she was distracted by an internal dilemma: the conflict between her work ethic and the embarrassment of bothering someone who was simply taking photos and enjoying their leisure time.
In the end, it had worked out in her favor, relieving her of the fear that she’d be fired the moment her focus on the waves had slipped. She was going to the same party as Seraphine the very person who had called her a hero just yesterday, leaving Rell momentarily frozen in body and mind.
Now, she faced a wardrobe packed with black band tees, interspersed with the occasional gray or white shirt and two dress shirts for formal events she rarely attended. Since the occasion was a birthday party, formality wasn't required. She decided not to decide. She snaps photos of two different outfits and sends them to her friend Taliyah, explaining the situation.
Taliyah, who sent back three two-minute voice notes, was clearly at the beach, judging by the sound of the wind in her messages. She first scolded Rell for not paying attention at work, then got excited and told her to get autographs, and finally advised her on which outfit to pick. Rell thanked her and went to get ready, taking along her makeup bag and the chosen ensemble: black cargo pants with a studded belt and a white top, finished off with combat boots and a leather jacket.
An hour and a half later, Rell stood in front of the house where the party was being held, having taken a thirty-minute walk that helped calm her nerves. She had arrived right on time; two people carrying a gift bag were just walking through the residence's grand entrance. The place was massive, a modern, glass-filled mansion located on an upscale, sparsely tree-lined street. Rell felt out of place for not thinking to bring a gift, but her rational side reminded her that she had been invited for a different reason. Even so, she felt guilty about having been distracted at work.
Before she could step off the sidewalk, a white convertible pulled up and stopped right in front of her. The person who stepped out was none other than the girl who had distracted her earlier. Seraphine looked radiant; her long, multicolored hair was blonde, fading into purple and blue at the tips. She wore shoes with gold soles and blue ribbons that laced up to her knees, a two-layered skirt in contrasting colors, and a white top with sheer, long sleeves that like the skirt ended in cyan cuffs. She wore a gold necklace matching her shoe soles, featuring a cerulean shell that mirrored the color of her eyes.
“Hiii!” The blonde greeted her as she stepped out of the car, her friendly nature shining through. “I thought I’d surprise the birthday girl,” Seraphine said with a smile, though she didn't elaborate on exactly what she meant.
She went straight to the trunk, revealing a jumble of items arranged in a chaotic way that likely made sense only to her. On one side sat bags that looked like last-minute grocery hauls; on the other, boxes topped with bath towels. In the center sat a round platform that barely fit the space, featuring gold and blue details and raised edges. The girl started with the center piece, trying to grip both sides of the platform to lift it out.
“Do you want some help with that?” Rell asked the multicolored-haired girl, offering a hand with what looked like a heavy load.
“Thanks, but the platform is lighter than it looks,” the singer replied with a beaming smile, politely declining the offer.
Rell wasn't entirely convinced; she watched as the girl whose hair was as colorful as the platform itself struggled to hold the object with both arms. Her posture grew strained, and the weight of the platform made Seraphine wobble slightly the moment she lifted it completely free of the trunk. In a movement that came naturally to her, Rell grabs Seraphine’s platform and helps steady it; her fingertips brush against the singer’s hands, and the redhead tries not to think about it too much.
“I can carry it for you,” Rell says to Seraphine as the two of them haul the platform toward the back of the car.
“Only if you tell me what you do when you aren’t helping people,” Seraphine suggests with a mischievous smile, her hands still gripping the platform alongside Rell’s.
“I…” Rell tries to avoid mentioning the hours she spent playing RPGs in her free time. “I surf with some friends.” A truthful answer, even if it didn’t cover the full scope of her hobbies.
To the redhead’s relief, Seraphine accepts the answer and sets the object down. Rell chooses to carry the platform under her arm, even though its thickness makes the movement awkward.
“I bet you’re a really good surfer.” Seraphine replies; she then opens a box, grabs her custom microphone detailed in colors that match her outfit and closes the trunk.
The two step off the sidewalk and head toward the mansion side by side in a silence that felt comfortable for Seraphine, who was excited for the party, but not quite so comfortable for Rell, who was nervous about talking to her celebrity crush. Upon reaching the massive doorway, they are surprised by Caitlyn, who opens the door for them almost as if she had been expecting someone’s arrival.
“You two arrived together!” she says in surprise, towering over Rell and Seraphine despite the heels on their boots.
“Yeah!” Seraphine smiles in agreement.
“Not exactly,” Rell says realistically, feeling a bit awkward.
Caitlyn glances at the items the two girls are carrying, and her face lights up with joy; she knows what Seraphine is planning and is already getting excited in anticipation.
“Happy birthday!” Seraphine exclaims, hugging the birthday girl while holding the unplugged microphone in her hand.
Rell is left unsure of what to do; the platform is starting to feel heavy, even for someone with the physical strength she’s built up through her job. She gives an awkward wave with her free hand, and Caitlyn waves back. A few people glance their way, but they move on into the venue which is even more luxurious on the inside and look for a spot to set down the platform.
—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-
The kind of thing that might happen at a birthday party where no one knows you and you have no desire to get to know anyone is happening to Rell right now. She was standing near the bar, not even taking advantage of the open bar she had agreed to, but staying close enough to use it if she needed to as an unhealthy form of escape.
Seraphine was naturally the center of attention, even among people who didn't know her. She possessed an aura that drew people in, whereas Rell was used to pushing most people away. Rell knew that if she wanted to, she could go talk to anyone else and make friends. But she didn't want to; that wasn't why she had come.
She knew her motivation for coming was Seraphine, a singer who had helped her through difficult times in her life with her music and her silly posts featuring photos of her cats. She genuinely just wanted to thank her for her work. But taking the initiative to speak about something so vulnerable, so private, to someone who just days ago had been separated from her by meters of space and a massive stage, was difficult.
Rell walked back from where she was standing to a spot inside the house, near the spacious living room. Seraphine stepped up and tested her microphone. She spoke about the venue, about how she met the birthday girl, and about the fragility of life, how we must fight every day to enjoy it, and how that should be everyone's right. She also spoke about how life sometimes delivers heroes to save the day. For a moment, she looked at Rell and smiled, then began singing "Happy Birthday" to Caitlyn.
She was even more radiant while singing; her multicolored hair cascaded all the way down to her knees. Hearing her do all this for someone who had simply invited her to the party witnessing the generosity in her heart and realizing that her love for her fans was real, not just a marketing ploy like so many others used confirmed to Rell that she was a fan of the right person. This only deepened her respect and strengthened her desire to speak with her. Seraphine finished singing, her sweet voice wishing everyone a good night and telling them to enjoy the party. A waitress serving a variety of drinks to the party guests offers one to Rell; she accepts, perhaps she needs it. She goes to take a sip, the citrusy aroma of the blend, a mix of fruits, liqueurs, and sugars wafting up to her nose. But before the drink even touches her lips, she is startled.
“Hii!” Seraphine suddenly appears right in front of Rell; the shock makes her jump, causing her to spill half the drink onto the singer.
“Damn, I’m sorry.” Rell apologizes immediately, as if that might fix the situation.
“I didn’t think you’d get startled...” the singer says calmly surprised, certainly, but showing no signs of panic over her expensive outfit getting wet.
“I didn’t...” Rell starts to deny being startled by the girl’s mere presence, but decides to let it slide. “Anyway, I need to help you before it stains.” With professional focus, she assesses the problem and looks for a solution.
The two of them wander through a house that’s far too big for just two people, unsure of where the bathroom is, the sort of trouble that comes from never having set foot in the house before. They pass paintings, photos, and even a genuine pair of boxing gloves belonging to a famous fighter before finally finding Vi and asking where they can clean up. The woman, busy eating a cupcake, simply points upstairs and gives hand signals that are surprisingly understood.
The girls climb the marble staircase, weaving their way to the bathroom door. Rell enters first and quickly flips on the light, revealing the room’s expensive porcelain tiling and a long, oval mirror. She tears off a large piece of toilet paper, wets it, and dabs at the stain on Seraphine’s light-colored outfit without rubbing. The singer gazes into Rell’s green eyes, which are completely focused on the task of removing the spot.
“You don’t have to do all this, Rell,” Seraphine says, trying to stay perfectly still so she doesn’t spread the stain the redhead is working so hard to remove.
“It’s the least I could do.” Rell simply says.
Given the summer heat, Seraphine doesn't feel cold at the touch of the cold water-soaked towel, but that doesn't make the situation any less awkward, nor does the close proximity to the altruistic lifeguard, who is far too beautiful for Seraphine not to feel nervous.
“You know, I love the ocean, too.” The singer makes small talk to ease her nerves. “Is that why you became a lifeguard?” While Seraphine tends to speak too much when she’s uncomfortable, she genuinely wants to know more about Rell.
“I’ve never really liked following the rules.” Rell glances at Seraphine for a moment and flashes a half-smile that makes Seraphine’s heart skip a beat. “I jumped in to save someone who was drowning before the on-site lifeguard could, even though that’s strictly something an untrained person shouldn’t do. They hired me on the spot after giving me the proper training.” Rell speaks with pride written all over her face.
Seraphine could picture the scene perfectly; even though she had only met the girl that morning, she could see that Rell was someone who would step up to help, even off the clock. The singer admits that this quality made her shine among the crowd and perhaps, just perhaps, made Seraphine look at her a little longer than she should have while she sang.
“Heroics aside, that red uniform looks good on you.” The singer compliments her, speaking the first thing that comes to mind without holding back.
“I—” Rell’s proud stance faltered, and it was her turn to go still, her cheeks flushing dark. “I think I got the stain out; it’s just a little wet now.” She quickly changed the subject.
The redhead tossed the paper towel she’d used into the trash, and suddenly, she felt Seraphine standing closer than before. Rell looked over; the singer thanked her and mentioned that the outfit had been made specifically for her “Ocean Song” festival, something Rell was well aware of but hadn’t let on. The outfit was wet, anyway, from the cold water she’d had to wade through. Before guilt could weigh on her again, Rell took off her own jacket and handed it to the singer, telling her she could return it after the party just so she wouldn't have to walk around with a visibly wet shirt.
“Do I look cool?” Seraphine swept her long hair over the leather jacket and slipped it on easily; it was only a size too big.
“I wouldn’t use that word,” Rell said with a touch of humor, and Seraphine feigned deep offense. “But you do look beautiful.” She says with a kind smile.
“You think so?” Seraphine was used to compliments, almost too used to them, but hearing them from Rell stirred a different feeling in her, one that made her blush and smile like a lovestruck teenager.
“As beautiful as the ocean.” Rell speaks with the certainty not just of a fan, but of someone looking at the singer and seeing the most beautiful woman she has ever laid eyes on.
Their eyes meet, green meeting blue, and what follows is unstoppable. Seraphine takes a step forward, bringing her extremely close to Rell given the cramped confines of the bathroom. She places a hand on Rell’s cheek, seeking consent in Rell’s wide, dilated eyes, and begins to kiss her gently. For several long seconds that feel like an eternity, Rell stands frozen; then, she grips the singer’s waist and kisses her back, both of them losing all sense of time in a kiss that is in no rush to end.
Rell hadn't walked away with the collectible memento of an autograph that day, nor had she gotten the chance to say everything she had wanted to. But what she gained in the end was something neither her body nor her mind could ever forget and certainly not her heart, which would race every time she heard Seraphine’s voice on a playlist saved under a cheesy title that only she and Seraphine would understand.
—---
“Did she leave early?” a worried birthday girl asks her girlfriend, who refuses to explain the whereabouts of the singer with the colorful hair.