Storytelling Saturdays: Escape Romantic Flash Fiction by Jarvis

First published in Intellectual Ink Magazine, August 2021 Issue

The cold crept in through her wool jacket as her heels clicked upon the cobbled stone, an echo of the music still ringing in her ears. And with the headache already settling in, she was sure she’d wake up with a hangover to be remembered through the ages. She couldn’t wait to get home and put this night behind her.

She walked aimlessly around the gardens of the mansion in hopes of finding Kara, who had promised her a ride. But the chances of that happening were now slim to none, as Kara was nowhere to be found. Something cracked beneath her.

“You have got to be kidding me!” she said, examining her broken heel. “Great, just great!” she muttered under her breath. She slumped against the icy pillar behind her and landed right onto the wet grass. Her dress was probably irreparably damaged by now, but she couldn’t care less. She had a whole closet full of the same “one-of-a-kind” dresses.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Sometimes, she hated her lifestyle; she hated everything about it—the money, the mansions, the endless parties, the alcohol, the galas, the fake smiles. All of it. But usually, when those thoughts surfaced, they drifted away just as fast because who wouldn’t want her life? She had everything. She was the girl everyone wanted to be. That should be more than enough to make her happy. Right?

Her bare legs were numb now, and she knew she had to get up and find a way home. Otherwise, she might just drift off to sleep right there. And if not for all the magazine covers and scandalous headlines flashing through her mind, she probably would’ve done it.

“Cayetana Summers found wasted and unconscious on the grounds of the infamous Kayden Jacobs, the troublemaker of Hollywood.”

“Cayetana Summers exiled by parents? Or just a night out gone bad?”

Those reporters would find a way to turn walking into a scandal.

“Hey there, princess.”

That voice. She’d recognize it anywhere. The same voice that had made her life a living hell since she was five years old. Kayden Jacobs stood there with his signature smirk, dressed in a white dress shirt and a tie barely hanging from his collar. He may have bugged her every day for the past fifteen years, but in some way, he was the only constant in her life. Behind all the snarky remarks and teasing was a deeply rooted friendship born from loneliness.

“Do you always take naps in people’s gardens, or is this a new hobby you’re trying out?”

“Real funny, Darren. Do you always look like you just rolled out of bed, or is that your new aesthetic?” she asked, gesturing to his messy hair and rumpled shirt.

“It’s all part of my charm, Caye.” His eyes twinkled with amusement, his dimples making an appearance. He made it so hard to hate him with those dimples. And that smile. She’d say he looked terrible, but she’d be lying—Darren always managed to look good in everything.

She rolled her eyes. “Will you stop running your mouth and get me the fuck out of here?”

“You’re grumpier than usual. Who stuck a stick up your ass this morning?”

She gave him a death glare. “Well, it’s hard to be chipper when your parents tell you they’ll cut you off completely if you ever think about applying to law school.”

“Oh fuck. You finally told them?”

“Yeah, this morning. And it went swimmingly,” she said sarcastically. “In my parents’ eyes, my top priority should be making the public love me by showing my face at more movie premieres and galas. Because apparently, some magazine called me a ‘spoiled brat’ for not giving the public what they want and showing up to every event with the same bullshit.”

“Welcome to Hollywood, where all your dreams come true,” he said with a dramatic gesture, taking a swig from the drink in his hand. He walked toward her and plopped down next to her on the wet grass.

“Want to get the hell out of here?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye, extending a hand to help her up. “Come on, let’s go have fun. After all, this is our last night together before my parents ship me off to Italy.”

She felt a sharp pang in her chest. She had no idea what she’d do when he was gone. He had always been her anchor, in some way or another.

She let him pull her up on wobbly legs. He steadied her, one hand gripping her waist. They were close—so close she could count the lashes on his brown eyes and watch their breath intertwine in the cold night air. She clung to his shirt for balance, drawing him closer.

“What are you doing, Caye?” he exhaled, his breath fogging the air between them.

“Having fun. Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do?” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she gently sucked on his earlobe, then slowly kissed down his neck, feeling his pulse rise under her lips.

“Wait, Caye…” he shuddered, reluctantly pulling away.

Hurt flickered in her eyes. Had she misread all the signs?

“Do you not want this?”

“Oh, I do. Trust me, I do. But what about our parents? What about what everyone will say?” Their parents had forbidden them from becoming anything more than friends. They said it would be a conflict of interest, too messy, too public.

But with the way he was looking at her—like he wanted her, all of her—she didn’t care about any of that. She had always wanted him too.

“Fuck them,” she muttered, grabbing his belt buckle and pulling him toward her. Their hips locked together like puzzle pieces.

He pushed her gently against the pillar, his hands tangled in her hair as their lips met. His tongue teased her mouth open, his hips moving against hers. She moaned, feeling the heat between them spark into something uncontrollable.

He was intoxicating. Their tongues danced. She bit his lip softly, and he let out a hungry breath.

“Darren,” she whispered, eyes locked on his. That one look said everything she couldn’t bring herself to voice. “Let’s get out of here. Please.”

“You sure?” he asked. She knew he wasn’t just talking about tonight.

“Yes.”
And for the first time in a long time, she meant it.

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