STILL, STUPID RULE

We enter the restaurant with me tailing behind him quite clumsily. His walk is brisk and quick and with those long legs of his taking enormous steps, I can barely keep up, having to jog occasionally. His gait's straight, and he basically oozes confidence as if telling me that he needs help getting his crush on the table didn't bruise his ego at all.

It's like he doesn't even care what I think of him. Like my opinion of him is just a blemish on his skin, easily forgotten and never to be recalled ever again. It's like the mole growing ever so slowly on my lower back. I only remember it when I'm bored and scraping the scab off it or when it itches irritably, begging for my attention. I'm the mole to Dominic.

Once we're inside the restaurant, I look around at the refined, stylish décor of the interior. I begin to feel slightly out of place. It has a nice, elegant design, the room dimmed into a romantic light and smelling like love and affection and adoration. What is this? Couple's night? I must admit though, I'm quite impressed by the interior of this place.

I would not mind coming here in the future with my husband, kids being looked after by the nanny, while we just wine and dine and smile lovingly at one another from across the table. I haven't completely given up on love. I still believe that there is someone out there for me. There are approximately eight billion people in this world and one of them is bound to be the one for me.

Even with the restaurant being a stylish place, I'm missing that homey feeling that Franklin's diner provides. I'm missing the chaotic family with the children running around, the mother chastising them and trying to settle them down. I'm missing the businessman who's in a rush to get his coffee before his lunch break ends. I'm missing the teenagers tapping away at their phones either watching videos on YouTube or double tapping on Instagram pictures using the diner's internet.

Honestly, it's the only reason why I also go to my father's diner. The free food is a plus, but the internet takes the cup.

Nervously, my fingers tug the sleeve ends of my hoodie down into my palm. The people inside are just as elegantly dressed as the restaurant and I can tell that their eyes are just watching me in confusion, wondering what a not-so-elegantly-dressed boy is doing in such a place. I'm obviously not dressed for this place, but neither is Dominic, and nobody is watching him all judgmentally.

I wait at the door for a waiter to lead us to a table because that's normally how it goes in the movies. I think you even need reservations for a place like this. What the hell was Dominic thinking when he brought us here? Couldn't he have taken us to the Five Guys a few blocks away from our school?

I understand that he wants to avoid the irritating teenagers from our school but taking us to an unaffordable place which probably serves expensive, fancy cuisine isn't his brightest idea.

Why not find another Five Guys franchise if he wants to avoid the children from our school so badly? Shoreditch is literally flocking with Five Guys. I turn to tell him to take us somewhere else instead, but he goes right ahead and waltzes in like he owns the place. I blink after him and stay planted at the door. I would rather not waltz in after him and have security escort me out. That would be humiliating.

"Um… excuse me!" the waiter yells after him, but Dominic ignores him and keeps on walking. "Sir, you can't just walk in he—"

When Dominic turns around and narrows his eyes venomously, the waiter cuts himself off and hastily apologises to him. After that, he immediately rushes off back into the safe confines where no scathing looks can be thrown at him with a petrified look on his face.

My brows furrow.

What the hell?

Is he so terrified of Dominic that he's gonna let him do as he pleases? Wouldn't he get fired by his boss? He can't just let customers do as they please.

When his eyes meet mine while he passes by, I try to stretch an apologetic, reassuring smile at him, but I'm just way too confused to do that. I follow Dominic slowly, still trying to understand what is going on, but nothing is quite piecing itself together. Blinking myself out of my confusion, I throw another questioning glance over my shoulder, wondering if the waiter is really letting us go.

Maybe he's going to call someone bigger who can throw us out. Yeah, that's probably it. He's not letting Dominic do as he pleases. He's just letting him think that he can, but in reality, he's being smart and not letting his scrawny self get into a wrestling match with Dominic. He doesn't wanna get hurt. Sitting at the booth he chooses, we end up just staring at each other from across the table which separates us.

"Um… w-what was that all about?" I ask him, gesturing my thumb at the scene that just happened.

"That doesn't matter."

"Uh… yeah, it does. That guy was terrified of you. How come you can do as you please in this place?"

He sighs irritably at my unceasing questions and crosses his arms over his chest.

"My mum owns this restaurant along with many other franchises, hotels and large corporations. That is why I can do as I please in this place. Are you happy now? Has your curiosity been sated?"

I wrinkle my nose in confusion and irk at his last words. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"That weird thing you do. You end your sentences in some sort of weird arse comment to take jabs at me. Is it really necessary? You didn't have to add a scathing question to your response. All you had to say is that your parents are filthy rich and you're a privileged, spoiled brat."

"Spoiled bra—"

He cuts himself off before he can bring forth any more emotions, but I have already gotten the reaction I was looking for. The sides of my lips twitch into a tiny smirk of satisfaction. I knew he wasn't as Edward Cullen as he made himself out to be. Well, I mean Cullen smiles at Bella occasionally so maybe comparing him to the precisely impassive Dominic isn't such a good comparison. He is more of a Blade character. Dark and unfeeling, like a vampire.

After taking in a deep breath, he brings back the façade of stolidity onto his face. "What you should be focusing on is how to get the girl I like to like me back."

"Why can't you just do it yourself?" I ask, smiling at him in amusement.

"Because I'm telling you to do it."

"C'mon, stop being such a pussy."

"Excuse me?"

"Just do it yourself. I promise you it won't be that bad. I mean, with that boyish charm you kinda, sorta possess, I guess…" I ponder the validity of my words and immediately backtrack, "Yeah, no. You are definitely going to get rejected but fear not, kid. Getting rejected might seem like something that would shatter your entire self-esteem, but you get over it pretty quickly especially when you realise that the people you're confessing to are the likes of… well, you."

He narrows his eyes at me as venomously as he can and unlike the waiter, I do not immediately cower away in fear instead, I have to obscure a smile behind my teeth.

If you have lived three years of your high school life feeling a hateful gaze burning lasers into the back of your head, I think you would be unaffected too. He doesn't get the chance to answer with something as scornful since the waiter comes back hugging two menus in his arm. He is about to put them down in front of us, but Dominic stops him.

"Just get us two strawberry milkshakes," he orders rudely.

I give him a scolding look for being so rude but he, of course, ignores it just like he used to ignore my entire existence back in the ninth grade. Isn't it just nice reminiscing about how abhorrent the past used to be? Still, it's better than the present.

I mean, if someone had told me back then that I would be sitting across Dominic Lachowski in some fancy restaurant that his mum owns after he had told me to help him with a crush he had on someone, then I would've called the person a witch who can't even foresee the future properly. Therefore human.

As the waiter is about to walk back to the kitchen, I tug on his hand to pull him back.

He glances at me in surprise. Then his gaze rests on the grasp that I have on him. He frowns.

This makes me quickly let go of his hand. As if I just got burned. Some people do not like being touched. Maybe he is one of those people. I would not want to make him feel even more uncomfortable. Dominic is already doing a bang of a job at that. I look up at him apologetically.

"Sorry," I squint over at his breast pocket to catch his name, "Juanpa."

"It's alright. Why did you stop me, Sir?"

"Oh, please, call me Seong Jin or Starr, whichever works for you. People normally go for Starr, because they can't pronounce Seong Jin. Honestly, it's not that hard. Seong Jin. Either you're dyslexic or, just because I'm Asian, you think my name is supposed to sound exotic?"

I'm answered by a surprised silence from both parties.

"Okay," Juanpa finally drawls out awkwardly and I smile just as ungainly, trying to keep my cheeks from blossoming into a bloody red, "Starr?"

"Going the safe route, I see."

"Quit flirting with the guy and tell him what you want."

"I wasn't flirting with him," I state dryly, thinning my eyes in irk.

"Right," Dominic murmurs after me, staring away from the interaction sardonically.

Then looking over at Juanpa, my eyes begin to widen when I realise how offensive that must have sounded. "Not that you're not someone worth flirting with, because you are. I would totally flirt with you."

"Uh… thanks?" At his unsure response, my lips tug up stiffly and I slowly bob my head up and down. "I'm not gay."

"Oh, thank God," I release with a breath of relief. I even go as far as placing a hand against my chest.

This means that I have not offended him by saying that I wasn't flirting with him. Yeah, that would have made me feel horrible for a couple of minutes. Maybe an hour at most.

That's when I notice that both Juanpa and Dominic are silently watching me with eyes as large as saucers. Incredulity stains their faces and for a second I'm confused as to why they are watching me in such flabbergast. Until it eventually hits me when I realise what I have just said, and my eyes widen in horror.

"Wait, not thank God that you're not gay, no. Not like, uh, not that being gay is a bad thing because it's fine."

Should I add something else to show that I'm pro-gays?

"In fact, I love all gay people and… sodomy. Love sodomy. Totally." What? "I'm just gonna shut up now." I slump down in my seat as both boys watch me in amusement.

"No, please, carry on. Watching you humiliate yourself will be the highlight of my day," Dominic adds.

I decide to not reply to that, because that'll just encourage him to come up with something else to add to that. I'd rather not deal with him right now. In fact, I want to get this meet and greet thing over with so I can go home and wallow in my sorrow.

"In place of the strawberry milkshake, may I please get a chocolate ice cream instead?" I ask Juanpa, trying to move on from the previous conversation.

"Does this look like an ice cream parlour to you?" Dominic asks, looking over at me with a flat look in his eyes.

"Domi, keep quiet, the adults are talking," I snap, calling him by the name I used to use during the whole of ninth grade.

Something passes through his eyes and just as I'm about to decipher it, it leaves just as quickly as it had surfaced. Before I can even dwell on what it could have been, I spot the irk which replaces the dull emotion swirling in those beautiful, dark eyes. His eyes are the only things which have not fallen prey to the process we call puberty. Now, he is much taller. He has more depth. His shoulders are broader.

His eyes are still the same, still the same emotionless beads. They remind me of why I fell for him in the first place. I think what I see as a brick wall today is what I interpreted as strength back then. Dominic is too beautiful of a specimen. How could I not fall for him?

Well, back then I didn't know he was this much of a prick since he never even spoke to me once. In fact, the first time we have ever spoken is when I ran him over in my car. He was probably too disoriented to realise that it was me but in the end, when he did notice that it was me, he just continued talking to me, because I'm a joy to speak to. Who wouldn't want to converse with me?

"Um… we aren't allowed to serve dessert if the customer hasn't ordered a meal," Juanpa replies to my request, causing me to frown in bemusement.

"But you can serve milkshakes? That seems like a stupid rule."

He looks over my shoulder at Dominic I assume and then nods quickly. "Yeah, uh, milkshakes are actually a cold drink made of milk, a sweet flavouring and typically ice cream, whisked until it's frothy."

"Unnecessary information, but still… stupid rule."

Juanpa smiles in hilarity and quickly glances over at Dominic who makes him lose the grin. I wonder what's happening between the two of them. Dominic seems to be intimidating the shit out of Juanpa. Is it because he's the mini-boss or something? Does he possibly hold enough power over every waiter's head in the restaurant?

Can he maybe even fire them if he wanted to or get them fired? All he really has to do is run off to mummy and tattletale lies about her workers and they'll probably be done for.

Then I would also be intimidated by Dominic if he had my income wrapped around his little, spoiled, bratty finger.

"Okay, then may I please get one of those chocolate, cold drinks made of milk and typically ice cream, whisked until it's frothy?"

He chuckles lightly at my quotation of him and quickly scribbles my order on his notepad, drawing out, "Coming right up."

"Thanks." I give him a friendly smile. The minute Juanpa walks away, I turn to ask Dominic, "So, what were we talking about? Oh, I know. You were about to give me my sketchbook back."

"Not happening."

"Worth a shot," I say with an indifferent shrug but behind this nonchalant façade I am pulling, it pisses me off that he won't give me my stuff back.

At the end of the day, it is my sketchbook and my memory card, property of Seong Jin Lee and he's gonna have to give them back. Did he not listen to my videos? They all end with "that crusty Seong Jin", which I now regret doing at the end of all my vlogs. Did he not read what stood on the front cover of that sketchbook? It's written there in big font; it's very hard to miss, which is also gonna work against me since I did write that stupid entry about Edward in there.

"So what? The girl you like doesn't like you back?"

He shrugs unknowingly.

When I think about why I'm here, sitting in front of Dominic in this fancy restaurant, the puzzle begins to piece itself. "No, I'm guessing you haven't told her that you like her yet and that's where I come into play, right?"

He nods.

"You know, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take."

He frowns in perplex. "What?"

"Don't you get it? It's about how if you don't take the shot, you'll never know if you would've made the shot. I think it perfectly describes your situation. Did you really not get it? I thought it was a pretty good analogy."

He rolls his eyes and dismissively says, "Please take a moment to think about what you're going to say the next time you decide to open your mouth and consider if it's smart or even adds any value to our conversation."

"You're bare rude, you know that?" I flick my hair back, away from fanning my eyes. "So, you have not even told her that you like her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"The only person crazy enough to like me is you."

"Liked. In the past, like three years ago past," I correct adamantly, scowling at the fact that he's still pushing this agenda that I might still have feelings for him. I have most definitely learned my lesson on falling for people like him. He's the type to silently reject you. "Besides, your personality? Major turn off."

"Exactly," he says not even the slightest bit offended by my words. "How do we get my turn-off of a personality to get the girl?"

"Okay, first and foremost stop calling her the girl. She has a name, doesn't she?"

"Everyone has a name, Starr."

"So, do I. It's Seong Jin. No one calls me Starr anymore."

I purse my lips in annoyance when he shrugs nonchalantly.

That's when Juanpa fortunately comes back with our milkshakes, placing the dark, chocolate one in front of me and the pink-flavoured one in front of Dominic who immediately takes a slurp of it. Juanpa watches him nervously and after a tense, deathly silent moment, he rolls his tongue inside his mouth and then nods stiffly, causing Juanpa to slump with reprieve.

With an enjoy thrown at the both of us, I smile up at him right before he leaves and thank him. After taking in a much-needed sip of my milkshake, I nod approvingly at the sweet flavour playing on my tongue.

"So, what exactly do you want me to do?"

After swallowing another sip of his milkshake, he leans forward and whispers, "Okay, the plan is—"

"The plan?" I cut him off, scowling disapprovingly.

"Yes, the plan."

"Can't we just let the chips fall on the table and allow the rest to work itself into place? I read somewhere that planning stuff almost rarely ever works. The universe is always going to find a way to fuck shit up for you so you might as well just go with the flow. This way the universe does not actually know if it is fucking you. Well, fucking your shit up."

"What are you even talking about? Where the hell is your mind at?" he immediately disputes my suggestion, watching me like I'm an idiot. "No, we cannot let the chips fall on the table, Starr."

"Seong Jin," I correct, slurping more chocolatey deliciousness into my mouth and resisting the urge to bounce up and down from the bursting flavour which touches my tongue. This is the best milkshake I've ever had. Sorry, Franklin.

"We need a plan; instructions which will be followed step by step. You get that?" he muses.

After I ve swallowed the content in my mouth, I pull my straw out and lick at the end, coated with brown, barely paying him mind. What did they add to this milkshake?

"Besides, with your intellect of an uneducated donkey, you'll probably need the instructions I'm giving you."

"You just did it again. The scathing comment at the end for the unnecessary jab."

He stares at me unsparingly, pointedly gesturing to what I'm doing right now as evidence of me being a supposed, uneducated donkey. I pause for a second, considering what I'm doing but in the end, I resort to nonchalantly lifting my shoulder.

"You know what? Whatever. I'll follow your instructions like the dumb donkey you claim I am. As long as I get my sketchbook and my vlogs at the end of the day."

"I'm glad we agree."

He then starts telling me his detailed plan about how he is going to get this mysterious girl to fall heedlessly in love with him. I sit through his telling, curious as to how long it took for him to plan all of this because it's extremely detailed. Even going as far as having second plans if things do not go as planned.

At the end of his explanation, I'm watching him with owl-like eyes, shining with the mesmer of a child who has just been told the answer to the infamous question about the chicken and the egg.

I wonder if I had come up with a plan like his, would I have been in a relationship already? All I do is wing my confession and hope for the best—which inevitably ends with me getting rejected a hundred and ten percent of the time.

"How long did it take to perfect this plan?" I exclaim, somewhat impressed with the dedication he has to get the girl he likes.

"A few altercations had to be made last night, because you're the only participant willing to help me, but a few tweaks are nothing."

I glare yet again. "Willing is a far stretch, don't you think?"

"Yeah," he murmurs with a tiny smirk making the side of his lip twitch just a bit. "Don't you just love the person who created blackmail?"

"Well, that solely depends on what end of the stick you're on. From your end, yeah, I'd be grovelling and kissing his dirty, cobweb-filled shoes. From my end though, I just feel like spitting on his grave and stealing the flowers his family places on his tombstone every month."

I remain silent, stopping midway sipping on my cold drink.

"I just realised how morbid and evil that sounded. Spitting on the dead's grave, Seong Jin? Do you want to get your arse haunted? I think we've been spending too much time together. Your atrocious behaviour is rubbing off on me."

"It's only been less of half a day," he states dryly, dipping his eyebrows down flatly.

"Exactly. Just imagine how I'll be in a month. Probably all gloomy and bleary and glaring at everything which dares to inhale the same air as me."

He scowls, silently telling me that I'm not funny at all. I beg to differ, though. I think I'm hilarious.

"Okay, if we're gonna be doing this, then I'll have to know who this lucky girl is."

He pauses for a really long time which gives me the opportunity to take a really long sip of my milkshake. Then finally, he says, "Jodie."

"Jodie?" I ask with a frown of confusion.

He nods curtly.

I remain quiet, trying to think of anyone I know by that name. Jodie. The only one I can think of, the one that I know and have had the pleasure of being associated with is my best friend from primary school. Well, ex best friend.

We used to be inseparable before the whole outbreak in the tenth grade and the fight between the popular bunch. Particularly between Savannah and myself, because she somehow got me kicked off the boy's football team. I know it was her. She wouldn't admit it back then, but it was definitely her doing. From that, people went their separate ways. Taylor picked to leave with me, and Jodie decided to stay with Savannah.

"Jodie Dillon, Jodie?"

He nods again.

"The one in the same school as us?" I whisper-shout incredulously, hoping that this is just some sick joke.

I'm afraid the possibility of that being true is very unlikely. Impossible unlikely, because Dominic isn't someone who partakes in the art of comedy. He's obviously being serious. I don't like that. I don't like that at all.

"Yes, you idiot."

I gape at him. "But like isn't she like, you know… a little on the promiscuous side?"

"If you're trying to say she's a proper sket and sugar-coating it mildly then yes, Jodie is "a little on the promiscuous side". Honestly, I think that's what draws me in. The wild, adventurous mana that subconsciously breathes out of her."

"Nah, you're taking the piss."

He merely stares at me blankly.

"Wow."

"What?" he replies, ignoring the thick coat of sarcasm tainting my statement.

"I'm just surprised, is all. I never thought that that was your preference. I just assumed that you'd be more into girls who wear their own clothes size."

"So, basically more slut-shaming?"

"Look, I don't think you know this, but Jodie is best friends with Savannah and if you haven't noticed, which I think you have, because you mentioned it earlier on the car ride over here but also it is so obvious and I'm not crazy when I assume this, but Savannah absolutely hates me which means that Jodie hates me too."

"You don't know that."

"Savannah vomited on me last year and during the last football game the school hosted where they lost drastically, she dumped a whole can of coke in my hair. That stain didn't move for weeks. She obviously did it on purpose. There's no way to trip and raise your hand over my head and spill an entire can of coke in my hair."

"Oh, that's why you always wore a cap or a hood for a week," he murmurs thoughtfully and I'm shocked he recalls that I wore a cap for that entire week. Why does he remember that? "Also, the vomiting fiasco? Everyone clearly saw that she was sick. It wasn't her fault that you were the nearest thing that looked like a trashcan."

"You're not funny," I state in a deadpan tone.

He lifts his shoulders up as if to appear adorable. He's not, and he's most certainly not funny.

"I can't befriend Jodie. That's just pure madness. Savannah is gonna make my life a living hell."

He leans forward and suddenly the light tone in the atmosphere disappears, being squashed by his dark, demeaning look. "I'm gonna make your life a living hell if you don't carry out this plan," he threatens.

"Wow, I never realised how evil you truly are until now," I say monotonously, folding my arms over my chest with a pout. "Hey, did you know that Dominic sounds a lot like demonic?"

"Did you know that Starr sounds a lot like smart arse?" he responds, and I frown in thought.

"No, it doesn't."