Page 84 of Starstruck

He confessed that if he started seeing you, you wouldn’t be the only one he’dbe seeing.

I swallowed as my head fell forward, the weight of Henry’s stare and Tristansvoice too much to handle.

“I want to see where this goes.”

His delicate words forced my head back up to him.

I should have felt relieved, but instead, my head was only making room for more questions. How could Tristan have got it so wrong when Henry was being so vulnerable with me right now? Telling me exactly what he wants, putting everything on the line for me. And yet, every time I blinked, it was Tristan's face that drifted behind my eyes.

Tristan didn’t lie. At least, I didn’t think he would. He wasn’t the type to hold back; he wore his emotions like his music—loud, honest, and too raw to ignore. But then, why did nothing add up? A part of me wanted to believe he had just been careless, that he didn’t mean to make me question everything I thought I knew. Yet the questions circled, tightening in my mind.

I imagined him now, running a hand through that messy hair, looking anywhere but at me if I asked him. He’d probably laugh it off, give me that half-smile, like it was all a game and we were just making up rules as we went along. But that wasn’t true, was it? Because here I was, caught in a web he’d spun, whether he realised it or not. And here was Henry, spilling out his truths in front of me, and yet... all I could do was think of—

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Henry blurted, his voice quiet and painful.

I blinked, caught of guard. “What?”

“Tristan.” he nodded, his expression softened, but there was somethingunderneath it—something knowing. “That’s who you’d rather have walking you home right now.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking my head against the brickwall of the building, my back flattening against it a moment later. I opened my mouth to deny it, to brush it off and call him crazy… but nothing came out.

He was right.

And pretending he wasn't... that wasn’t fair to either of us.

“I…” I hesitated, staring down at the tips of my shoes before finding thecourage to stare back at him. “I don’t know.”

Henry’s eyes stayed on me, waiting for more, and I could feel the air betweenis getting heavier. Like how the world feels when it’s about to rain.

I ran a hand through my hair, separating the curls that had already dropped inthe rain, fueled by the frustration that was pricking my skin.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” I admitted, my voice softer than Iintended. “I thought I did. But everything feels… tangled. Complicated.”

Henry didn’t say anything as he stood there, tugging at the ends of his jacket,and I knew he was waiting. I could feel his patience starting to crack, and it made my chest tighten. I had to say something real. Something that made sense of the mess in my head.

“What I do know,” I said, my voice steadying as I pulled my head from thewall, “is that I just want to feel… loved. For once.”

The solemn expression that had masked his face lifted, something flickering inhis eyes that I couldn’t quite read.

I bit my lip, feeling the words pour out before I could stop them. “You know,apart from my sister, I’ve never had that. Not really. Everyone always wants something from me. Or expects me to be this… this person I’m not. But love? Real unconditional love? I don’t even know what that feels like.”

Henry took a step closer, his voice gentler now. “Goldie, I do care about you.You know that, right?”

I nodded, handing over the reigns to my mouth that apparently I had no controlover tonight. “I know you do. But that’s not the same as love.”

He looked down for a second, and I could see the frustration he was holdingback. When he looked back up, his eyes were harder, though his voice stayed calm. “You think he loves you?”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I don’t know. That’s the problem,Henry. I don’t know if Tristan is even capable of... whatever it is I’m looking for. He’s not staying here. And maybe I’m not supposed to want someone who’s going to leave anyway. Maybe I should want something... easier.”

Henry’s jaw tightened. “Easier like me?”

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. “No. That wasn’tthe right word to use—”

“Then what did you mean, Goldie?” His voice was sharp now, and I could feelhis patience breaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like I’m just the backup plan. The one you run to when Tristan’s not around.”

“That’s not fair,” I said, looking up at him. “You’re not some backup plan.”

“Then what am I?”

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