Five Years And A Lifetime Chapter 04
Five years ago, halfway through the final dance at our high school graduation party, the auditorium suddenly went dark with a sharp pop.
Shouts, laughter, and playful chatter instantly erupted through the room. A few students switched on their phone flashlights, sending beams of light crisscrossing through the crowd.
As I stood quietly in the corner, someone gently tapped the back of my hand. Then, warm breath brushed against my ear as his low, laughter-laced voice reached me, intended for my ears alone. “Catherine, would you give me a chance?”
My face flushed hot in the dark. My heartbeat pounded so violently it drowned out the surrounding noise, leaving me conscious of nothing save the warmth of his breath against my ear.
Yet reality rushed back just as quickly. I recalled how his mother had cut off his bank cards to stop him from acting, how he was set to join a film crew right after graduation for his breakthrough role, and the vast gap between us in family background, prospects, and future paths. Virtually every single difference whispered that we were wrong for each other.
Forcing down the swell of joy in my heart, I spoke softly. “Arthur, how long are you willing to wait?”
I wanted him to wait until I could stand firmly on my own feet, until I was truly worthy of standing beside him. I simply didn’t dare gamble on how long youthful infatuation would last. I knew no matter how grand such feelings might seem, every temporary spark eventually dims.
Arthur went silent for a beat. I couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness, only noticing his breathing catch momentarily. Then, his familiar lazy voice drifted back through the dark.
“That depends entirely on you. Catherine, how long do you want me to wait?”
I clenched my fists so tightly my fingernails bit deep into my palms. “Five years.”
He let out a low laugh in the shadows. “Fine.”
I’d assumed that was the end of it, just like most promises made in youth. One person asked for time, the other agreed, and then both drifted down their separate paths until time quietly erased the rest.
Yet someone had taken that youthful promise entirely to heart.
In fact, before he pulled the main power breaker that night, I’d already spotted him backstage. He’d stood there practicing that single line over a dozen times, his palms slick with nervous sweat.
I’d turned away quietly back then, pretending to notice nothing.
He likely had no idea I’d witnessed that moment.
Over those five long years, I watched Arthur transform from an obscure extra into Best Newcomer, then to Best Actor, and ultimately into the youngest A-list film icon.
I followed every single show he starred in and bought tickets for every movie he graced on the big screen. Late into the night, I would meticulously refute malicious comments from online trolls, growing so worked up on his behalf that I couldn’t sleep.
And “Moonquake,” the reader who had followed my story from the very first day I began posting it, would craft lengthy messages to encourage me whenever dismal views made me want to quit.
He would stay up late trading hundreds of posts to defend me against online harassers and would send handwritten cards alongside carefully chosen gifts on every one of my birthdays.
I’d found it strange before. How could a stranger on the internet understand my writing nuances so intimately?
Every book list recommended hit my tastes with uncanny precision, and the comforting words offered always carried the distinct rhythm Arthur used to soothe me back in high school.
Yet I’d never dared to confirm it. So, I spent six months crafting my current novel, modeling the male protagonist after Arthur in every detail.
I thought to myself that when the story reached its conclusion, if Arthur ever came looking for me again, I would lay everything out in the open.
The night wind blew chilly. Sitting on the park bench, I gazed quietly at Arthur. A rare trace of fluster crossed his face. His fever hadn’t receded, leaving the rims of his eyes faintly red. “Did I push too fast? I originally wanted us to take things slow…”
“Okay.”
He froze, his eyes widening slightly in shock. “What?”
A smile curved my lips as I reached out to clasp his cool fingers. “I said, Arthur, let’s be together.”
I couldn’t make him wait any longer, nor could I afford to wait out another five years myself. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed a feather-light kiss against his burning cheek.
Arthur went completely rigid, as if under a spell. A few seconds later, he recoiled sharply, pressing a hand to the spot where I’d kissed him while rambling in utter disarray. “What the… Wait… Woah…”
Before I could react, he pulled me tightly into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me so fiercely that my ribs ached under the pressure. He rested his chin on top of my head, his voice muffled and nasal. “Catherine, you agreed? You… you aren’t just taking pity on me because I have a fever, are you?”
“If you don’t let go, I’m going to start feeling sorry for you. Your fever hasn’t even gone down yet.”
He relaxed his grip slightly, leaning down to look at me, his forehead pressed lightly against mine. His skin radiated warmth like a little furnace. “Then say it one more time.”
“Say what?”
“Say that you agreed.”
The heat of his breath tickled my ears, making them tingle. Turning my face slightly away, I murmured, “Arthur, how old are you really…”
“Just say it.” His voice stretched out, soft and drawn-out, exactly like it had been in high school when he’d sprawled across his desk and shamelessly begged to copy my homework.
Left with no choice, I whispered under my breath, “I agreed.”
“You agreed to what?”
“I agreed to be with you.”
“With whom?”
“With you, Arthur.”
Finally satisfied, he let out a foolish grin and buried his face back into the crook of my neck. “Catherine, you’re the absolute best.”
I patted him gently on the back, feeling a sudden sharp twist deep in my stomach.
I kept quiet and didn’t utter a word.
