Starstruck

  STARSTRUCK

  By Yuriko Hime

  Copyright © 2015 by Yuriko Hime

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

  Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

  Books may be purchased by contacting the publisher and author at:

  Email: yurikohimex(a) gmail.com

  Website: Yuriwritestories.wordpress.com

  Facebook: Hime Yuriko

  Instagram: Yurikohimeko

  Wattpad: Yurikohime

  First Printing: 2015

  ISBN

  Cover Design: Y.H Publishing House

  Publisher: Y.H Publishing House

  Editor: G.F

  Creative Consultant: G.F and Tatienne

  Thank you for teaching me how to fly.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1. Accidental Meeting

  Chapter 2. Famous

  Chapter 3. Real Identity

  Chapter 4. Complications

  Chapter 5. Double Threat

  Chapter 6. Sleuthing

  Chapter 7. Wilder

  Chapter 8. Morning After

  Chapter 9. Discord

  Chapter 10. Confrontation

  Chapter 11. Reason

  Chapter 12. So Close

  Chapter 13. The Chase

  Chapter 14. Parallel Lines

  Chapter 15. Make Believe

  Chapter 16. Lines Meet

  Chapter 17. Almost

  Chapter 18. The Gift

  Chapter 19. Good And Bad

  Chapter 20. Distance

  Chapter 21. Glace

  Chapter 22. Sisterly Love

  Chapter 23. Double Date

  Chapter 24. Revelation

  Chapter 25. Mayhem

  Chapter 26. Back To You

  Chapter 27. Grown-up Fairytale

  Chapter 28. The Search

  Chapter 29. Found

  Chapter 30. Chaos

  Chapter 31. Plans

  Chapter 32. Decision

  Chapter 33. Creating Memories

  Chapter 34. Ticking Clock

  Chapter 35. Unexpected Turn

  Chapter 36. Differences

  Chapter 37. Sisters

  Chapter 38. Countdown

  Chapter 39. Love In The Making

  Epilogue

  Letter From The Author

  Chapter 1. Accidental Meeting

  Coincidence is an illusion. No single event is random. Think about it. Everything is linked together in life. You should merely wait for the puzzle pieces to fall together. If I have realized that sooner, I would have enjoyed every moment of it, even the painful ones.

  “Hey mom.” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “What floor is the photo shoot again?” There was a pause on the other line. While waiting for her answer, I checked the scenery outside the car. Downtown was bustling with activity as usual. People barely noticed the beautiful sunny day while they scurried to their destinations. What a pity.

  “Hon, it’s on the 22nd floor,” she said after a while. “Just inform the guard on the lobby that you’re here for Andrea. He’ll let you in. I already instructed him about it.” She sounded stressed. “Thanks so much sweetie. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

  “Don’t worry about it," I said. "School is still a week away, so I’m not busy.” From the distance, the traffic light turned green. It was time to move. “Let’s talk later. I’m nearly there.” After ending the call, I removed the headset and concentrated on driving. Finding a parking spot in these parts wasn’t easy, but I managed to secure one eventually. Let’s see. What did she want again? Oh, the bag. I grabbed that and the car keys before heading out to my destination.

  A soft whistle escaped my lips when I saw the building that I’d be entering. Wow. My mom’s client must have been rich or famous. The skyscraper was one of the largest in the city. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t going to the 22nd floor. Me and heights? We didn’t mix well. Even if I didn’t glance out the windows, knowing that I would be way up was enough to scare me.

  The guard that mom was referring to greeted me in the lobby. Once I told him my mom’s name, he showed me to the elevators with a smile. I thanked him before pushing the button for my stop. No one entered the elevator car on my way up, giving me enough time to ponder on things. My mom was usually an organized person. It was rare for her to forget the bag that she was going to use for work.

  The elevator opened with a soft ding. For a posh building, the hallway was pretty bare, with only plants at the corner and a trash bin. I headed straight to the room that mom indicated and entered after knocking hesitantly. To my surprise, the calm outside completely contradicted the chaos that was happening in the room. It was a battlefield. Everyone was busy preparing for the photo shoot.

  A short and stocky guy who was wearing sunglasses, even while inside the room was barking orders to everyone. He must have been their head man, or whatever it was that you called the boss for pictorials. Photographers were setting up their equipment’s in the center area, next to the big intimidating lights that were focused on a white backdrop. The wardrobe crew were carefully selecting outfit after outfits. All the rejects seemed to go straight to a large box. I squinted, trying to read the label. It said, Rejects. Go figure. While different individuals were doing their own set of tasks, in the corner sat my mom Andrea, the make-up artist.

  She has been a businesswoman all her life but switched to this line of work five years ago to pursue her real calling. At first, she started with small clients. As years passed, her clientele grew, and today, she was known as one of the top make-up artists in the industry. With her expertise, it was no surprise that she bagged a big gig like this. Again, it made me wonder who her client was this time.

  The two of us saw each other across the room at the same time. Before anyone could notice me, especially their head who didn’t look that friendly, I walked briskly to my mom and handed the bag to her. Relief crossed her features. “You’re such a lifesaver.” She unzipped the bag so she could sift through the things inside. “I was so caught up in work that I forgot to bring my other makeup kit. It’s lucky that you came in time. I have a big client that I don’t want to disappoint.” She glanced up, giving me a huge smile, the edge of her eyes crinkling.

  I took a good look at my mom, a 40 year old woman. To say that she was beautiful was an understatement. She was drop dead gorgeous. I wasn’t exaggerating either. Everyone who saw her would say the exact same thing. She could have easily been an actress with her looks, but she chose to be a makeup artist instead, which I was totally cool with. She had reddish shoulder-length hair, brown eyes that seemed to look into your soul, and a quirky smile that never failed to bring one to my own lips.

  People would often say that I was an exact copy of her, only younger, but I never believed them. While her hair was soft and silky, mine was long and untamable. Maybe I got that from my father who passed away when I was young. Our eyes were different too. Hers were soulful while mine was just plain old brown. I think the only thing we had in common was our tall height and a slender body. At least I got that from her. It was very noticeable for a high school student, but I liked the leverage.

  “Have you eaten breakfast yet Dulce? If you haven’t, there’s food in the other room for the staff. You’
re welcome there.”

  “Done. I’ll just go and catch some sleep. It looks like you’re going to be busy for the day.” To prove my point, their head guy screamed loudly, making everyone look. The poor woman who was at the receiving end of his anger lowered her head, embarrassed. “Just tell me all about it when you get home okay?” I said.

  She nodded. “Sure, see you later.”

  Back in the lobby, the guard who let me in gave me a subtle nod to say goodbye. I glanced around once I reached the sidewalk, beginning to be aware of my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the coffee shop tucked in the corner. I couldn’t help but grin. If there was one thing in the world that I loved, coffee would take top of the list.

  I almost skipped to the cafe. The familiar aroma of beans and cream wafted in my nose as soon as I opened the door. The scent alone made me giddy. It was the perfect way to start the day. Aside from me, only two people were inside- a twenty-something guy wearing a grey suit and tie, and a girl about my age donning tight jeans and what appeared to be an expensive looking shirt that accentuated her toned and slender body.

  My attention focused on the girl. Though her face was partly covered by aviator shades, and her hair was hidden by the cap she was wearing with her ponytail, she looked very familiar. It was like I’d seen her before. Talk about déjà vu.

  I waited patiently behind the girl, all the while thinking about how great she smelled. She was an intriguing scent of coffee and cream. Strangely, I was sure that it was coming from her and not from the café itself. What perfume was she wearing? Maybe I should ask her. Before I got the courage to bring my hands up and tap the girl’s shoulder, the guy in front of the line turned around, spilling coffee all over her white shirt.

  The girl flailed her hands helplessly. “Ouch! Ouch!” The man stared at her for a couple of seconds while his mouth hanged open. When he got out of his daze-like state, he did the opposite of what any gentleman should do in situations like that. He quickly got out of the café without even saying an apology. What a total jerk! As for me, I hurriedly grabbed tissue from the counter and wiped the girl’s chest. She recoiled from me. I still tried to dab the tissue, knowing that she was hurt and soaking wet with coffee.

  “Oh my gosh miss! Are you hurt?” I continued to wipe her.

  “Please don’t touch me.” She pushed my hands away. “Who are you?”

  I stopped what I was doing to stare at her. “Well are you hurt or not?” Here I was so worried about her, and she didn’t appear to be in pain like I originally thought.

  “Not really.” The girl groaned as she glanced down. I followed her gaze. Her bra was noticeable through the shirt, which was already semi-transparent because of the spilled coffee. I quickly looked away, blushing.

  “Come with me. I have an extra shirt inside my car.” Before she could say no, I was already pulling her out of the café, straight to the parking lot. She covered her chest with her hands while we walked. Sometimes I was too pushy for my own good.

  I instructed her to enter the back when we reached the car, while I rummaged inside my bag in front. After unceremoniously looking through my things, I found the grey shirt that I always kept for emergency purposes and handed it to her behind me. “Thanks,” she murmured. The girl removed her sunglasses and cap before pulling her hair tie, letting her raven black hair loose. Noticing her coffee colored eyes for the first time, I got lost in them for a moment. It was both foreign and familiar to me. How peculiar.

  She caught me looking. As she met my gaze, my heart beat crazily like a love struck teenager who just hit her puberty. That made sense since I was only 17, but damn my heart hasn’t pounded this hard for a long time. She surprised me even more by removing the wet shirt she was wearing while I was still openly staring at her.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “I’m changing. Is there something wrong with that?” Her tone was businesslike, as if she was used to other people seeing her change.

  “Uhm, err, nothing at all.” I realized that my palms were sweaty. “Just hurry so no one will see you.” There was a slight tremble in my voice. I faced front. This girl was shameless.

  After a few seconds, she tapped my shoulder, prompting me to turn in her direction. “I’m done. Look, uhh, what’s your name again?”

  “It’s Dulce.” I gave her a once over. The shirt looked sexy on her, flattering her silhouette.

  “Alright Dulce, I need to go now. Thanks for lending the shirt. I’ll return it to you somehow.” A thoughtful look crossed her features. “Can you give me your number so I can contact you once I had it washed? Or if you like, I can pay for it right now so we don’t have to go through the trouble. I’m very busy you see.” She ran her hands through her hair. If there was a chance that I’d see this pretty girl with the coffee colored eyes again, I’d take it.

  “No, you don’t have to pay me. I’ll give you my number,” I said quickly, before she changed her mind. The girl took her phone from her jeans pocket and punched in the number I recited. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask your name.” I stared at her expectantly.

  She answered with a huge smile, one that highlighted her straight nose, full lips, and beautiful eyes. “I’m Glace. Nice to meet you stranger.” Her voice was low and attractive. For a few seconds, I stared at the hand she offered before realizing that I needed to shake it. Mine were probably dripping with sweat from nervousness. She didn’t seem to mind.

  “You know, next time you should probably think twice before pulling a girl inside your car. One might think that you don’t have a good intention.”

  Though I knew she was teasing me, I still felt embarrassed because she was right. “I wasn’t,” I managed to mumble.

  “Right.” She winked, making my stomach do a small flip.

  “So, I uhh. . . I guess I’ll see you around Glace.” Lost for words already? Damn.

  “Yeah, you too Dulce. And by the way,” she said without skipping a beat. “What school do you go to?”

  I told her the name of the high school I’d be attending next week, along with other small details. “What about you?” I pretended to sound polite, but really, I just wanted to prolong the conversation.

  “I was homeschooled.” Glace sighed as she glanced at her watch. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I still have something to do. I’ll call or text you as soon as I get the chance.”

  We opened the door at the same time to get out of the car. Ask her out, my brain screamed. Meet with her some other day dufus. As always, anxiousness got in the way. In the end, I offered my hand for a shake. Her grip was firm and comfortable. “I guess this is it huh?” I said, looking straight into her eyes.

  “Maybe,” she replied coyly, holding my gaze. For a split-second, I felt an electric current flowing between us, a connection that I’ve never experienced before. It vanished quickly, leaving me no room to ponder. It must have been my imagination. That was what happened if you put a geek and a dork in a teenager’s body. You start to imagine things that weren’t there.

  “So, just text me. For the shirt," I said.

  “Totally for the shirt.” She squeezed my hand one last time before removing her hold. The absence of her touch made me cold, but the radiant smile she made compensated for that. It got my knees weak. “See you around stranger.” Glace turned around and walked away from me. Come back! Come back here you beautiful creature, I wanted to say.

  When she disappeared in the distance, I went inside the car and let out the breath that I’ve been holding. What was wrong with me? I should have asked for her number too. If she didn’t call, I might never see her again. I bumped my head on the steering wheel. You don’t let a beautiful girl like that go Dulce.

  I groaned. Well she didn’t give out a lesbian vibe, so even if I did ask her number, nothing would happen. I’d just break my heart like the last time. My thoughts inevitably strayed to Denise, the girl I used to go gaga with at school. She kept on giving me mixed signals all year long. When I finally asked
her out, she bluntly rejected me. It was downright embarrassing.

  It nearly blew my cover too. Here's the deal. People in school thought that I was straight. I didn’t want to tell anyone about my sexuality, or I’d be bullied and victimized. It hasn’t happened yet, but who said it couldn’t. Besides, it was enough that my two best friends in the world knew, plus my mom. Other than that, my gayness was no one’s business but my own. My only regret was Denise got in on the secret. Oh well.

  I inserted the key to its rightful place and started the ignition. My three year old car came to life. Next stop, my best friends place. Forget sleep. For now, I needed to tell them that I met someone beautiful.

  My best friend’s brother was the one who greeted me at the door. “Someone’s early,” he teased, opening the door wider in invitation. Having me here was a normal occurrence. It was my second home. “Go," he said. "Tim is also there.” I gave him a quick smile before darting to Patty’s room.

  As soon as I opened the door, someone made a war cry and grabbed my hand. “Whoa!” I exclaimed, trying to keep my balance as I was ushered inside the room. They were trying to kill me, these two.

  “We missed you girl. Where have you been hiding that cute butt of yours?” asked Tim, my best friend. A little tidbit about him. He was closeted gay like me and didn’t want anyone to know about his sexuality. We preferred to live our lives peacefully, so no we weren’t telling anyone other than our family, at least until after we graduated.

  “Hey Tim. Hey Patty.” I went for the bed. “I’ve been busy running errands for my mom and reading books. I haven’t had much time to go out.”

  “You and your books Dulce,” Patty said as she slid beside me. “Aside from that, I bet you’ve been cooking nonstop.”

  “You know me well,” I replied sheepishly. I haven’t mentioned it before, but I really liked cooking. The kitchen was my domain. Whenever I cooked or baked, it felt like I was in my element. Maybe that was the reason why my parents named me Dulce. In some completely bizarre way, they must have predicted that I’d grow to love cooking and sweets.