Default Stars - Ongoing

"You won't change me." Nate said, his gaze locked on hers, the mumbles of the passing people in the park disappearing along with their surroundings as their focus was only on each other.

"No, I won't." Sara paused, sliding an inch closer to him, "You won't ruin me." His eyes turned hard, he couldn't promise her anything. His head turned to the side, his lips brushing her ear.

"No. But I like a challenge." He whispered. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows furrowing. He couldn't ruin her when she was already ruined.
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Sara Mikaela Dean was a smart girl, in her first year of sixth form, and known for being quiet. She excelled in certain subjects but not all of them, and was a little of a geek when it came to reading.
Then there was Nathan 'Nate' Murphy, the popular nice guy, well known for bringing a smile to the table, but no one is ever all perfect. Even he had many faults.
credits to @NightshadeCreepypasa for the cover

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2. Chapter 1: The Dawn Of A Life Worth Living

Two Months Before

Third Person POV

She glanced around her bedroom, mind empty, thoughts swirling into a mash of messiness like someone uncontrollably puking whilst riding a bull. Her eyes wandered over clothes on the floor. Her gaze landed on her desk, where she used to do homework, covered in a thick layer of dust and her blank eyes prickled with tears. Burning hot, like the build up of a dramatic song, bursting all pipelines and away she was. The second stage of grief. Crying, knowing, breathing and feeling the eruptive pain. Wrenching in heartbreaking sadness, her heart almost stopped. She was the finesse, the grandeur of the burden of life. 

So lost in her grief, her hands folded into the creases of her black lace dress. Caught up in a whirlwind of pointless living, her mother poked her head around the corner of her wooden door. She didn't speak, only strolled towards her daughter. Her daughter lifted her arms, a sign of weakness, of preparation to say that she was not invincible or strong like she was supposed to be. In the eyes of the cameras, in the eyes of the press. She would still be astronomical science prodigy, Sara Dean. She was an 'inspiration' to youths across the world. A young girl of eleven years old who didn't conform to society's standards or their rules. She was young, seemingly too young to have a political ideal of who she should be or how she wants to live. But she did. She had already decided to support the Green Party one hundred percent, and live up to their socialist values especially in supporting the National Health Service. She imagined herself, older, richer, obtainment of more power and with the green party in the parliament with a prime minister who was either socialist or green. Those were just silly little girl dreams though. Nothing she could do to change her placement now. 

She breathed out, salty tears soaking her mothers black cotton cardigan and she looked defeated. A prodigy, defeated. Now she had no particular idea of who she wanted to be anymore. He was gone, and there would be nothing in the world to change it. Her mother sighed, tears escaping her tired eyes, stumbling towards her as if she had no purpose anymore. And together they sat, a fumbling entanglement of arms, and misery. The only two absent from the moment; her older sister and her father. Her sister lived in Scotland, in the furthest north, she was in her second year of university, a bright intelligent member of the Dean family. But now, after what had happened, she refused to come home. She'd supposed it was like a fairy tale, living far away from the problems of reality. That was not to say that she agreed with what her sister was doing. She knew what she was doing. She was leaving her to look after their mother. Something that wouldn't get easier, not even in a few years. She was sure of that, because even when she pulled away from her mother's embrace, her mother - Darlene - held on, as if she was her rock. Tightly, bunching the sleeves of her cotton cardigan, screaming internally, shaking the pain from the hearts of those that just lost everything. 

She had to choose to see the silver lining behind this storm cloud. She had to help her family move through this, onto the other side where the brighter grass grows. But he had left a divide and it became a gloomy chasm when her sister was adamant on never returning. She counted the minutes that she rocked back and forth, her mother falling into a sleep as she sang a lullaby to her, stroking her hair softly, tears still dripping from their eyelashes and their hearts hanging heavy. 

"Hǎo yī duǒ měilì de mòlìhuā

hǎo yī duǒ měilì de mòlìhuā

fēnfāng měilì mǎn zhīyá
yòu xiāng yòu báirén rén kuā
ràng wǒ lái jiāng nǐ zhāi xià
sòng gěi bié rénjiā
mòlìhuā ya mòlìhuā." She sang, the song was Chinese, -titled the jasmine flower- a reference to her heritage on her mother's side, and finished with a soft elongated hum. Her mother smiled, her dimples showing in her clear pale skin. She had wrinkles around her eyes and forehead, prominent laughing lines wearing thin. Her mother sighed and finally pulled her arms from around her, resting her worn hands on her lap. She didn't bother to wipe her face, it would have made a much worse mess. Her makeup had already washed away, the wetness drawn lines in her mascara all over her cheeks.

"Thank you, Sara. I-We needed this." Her mother spoke, her voice crackling, dry and hoarse. It sounded like she had not drank anything in a while, but that's what crying did to her. She only nodded in return, almost afraid of saying something that might make them cry again but then seeming to shake it off as a distant look glinted in her dark brown eyes. She pushed her dyed silver hair over her shoulder and looked down at her mother who was much much shorter than her. She barely managed a smile, her eyes unfocused. 

"We should go, the burial is in twenty minutes." 

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A group of roughly thirty people stood around an open grave. Thirty people who knew him, before. They had already watched as the dark oak coffin was lowered in. Taking Mr. Dean far into the ground, with it. It was now time to say goodbye. She stepped forward, an embellished black jacket strewn over her right shoulder. Dried tears marked her chin and cheeks. Strands of her silver hair fell into her face as if tugged there by gravity.  Her plain black dress stirred at the edges as a sudden cold breeze nipped at the back of her leggings clad legs. She was tired and it showed on her face. Clear of makeup, and worn by the day, she didn't look particularly beautiful but she still caught his eye. 

He had just been visiting his sister's grave before he noticed her. She was shrouded by others like a rose among the weeds. She looked up, and around feeling eyes on her and their eyes met. Shortly, but she kept staring even as he walked on, away from her and towards the road. Where, he waved over a taxi, stepped in and disappeared. Yet, still she stared, her gaze lingering on the space that he had just been in. 

An itching began at the back of her neck in the place where hairs rose when she was scared, this told her that she knew him. He was familiar. She recognised him from some place. Not that she particularly could remember where, yet. She used the fact he was coloured, to help pin point who he could be. There were few options, if she based it on her own sixth form. This was because there were only few coloured people in her school. She assumed that he even went to her school. She realised that it was unlikely, making a step to focus on the actual ins and outs of her fathers funeral. 

He'd always said that if he'd ever had a funeral, he would much rather it be fun and uplifting. Joyous. So that people would smile and laugh. But, that never happened. It was a dream that died with him. 

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