Episode 9: The star catcher's promise

The last Saturday of the year arrived with a chill that bit at the edges of coats and a sky so clear it seemed to hum with possibility. Anne stood at her apartment window, watching the streetlights flicker off as dawn crept in, her breath fogging the glass. Tonight was the Star Catcher Festival, a once-a-year spectacle held in a sprawling field of dandelions just beyond the city's edge. She'd gone every year since moving here—drawn by the lanterns, the music, the strange magic of a night where wishes were said to tangle with the stars—but this time felt different. This time, Deon was with her.He emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of coffee in hand, his green jacket already on. "Ready for this festival thing?" he asked, handing her one. "Nina's been hyping it up all week."Anne took the mug, the warmth seeping into her palms. "Yeah, it's special. You'll see."He grinned, that sky-blue gaze catching the morning light. "Good. Been looking forward to it."She smiled back, a quiet thrill stirring in her chest. Deon had woven himself into her life so seamlessly—his job at the Chronicle, his scribbled articles scattered across her desk, his steady presence through every storm. Tonight, with Nina, Matt, and Jacks joining them, felt like a milestone, a celebration of the strange, wondrous year that had brought him to her.By dusk, they met the group at the field's edge, a sea of dandelions stretching out under a sky bruising purple. The festival was already alive—lanterns swaying from poles, their golden glow dancing on the fluff of seeds; vendors hawking hot cider and star-shaped pastries; a band playing fiddles and drums that pulsed through the crowd. Nina arrived in a swirl of energy, her coat adorned with tiny star pins, her braids catching the light."This is it!" she exclaimed, hugging Anne. "The Star Catcher's night—best way to end the year."Matt and Jacks trailed behind, arms linked, Matt clutching a bag of pastries he'd already started on. "Hope you're ready to make a wish," Jacks said, nodding at Deon. "Tradition says you catch a star with it."Deon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Catch a star? How's that work?""You'll see," Anne said, leading them into the field.The festival unfolded like a dream. They wandered through the stalls, sipping cider that burned sweet and sharp down their throats, the dandelions crunching underfoot. Deon tried his hand at a ring-toss game, winning a small wooden star he tucked into his pocket with a grin. Nina dragged them to a storyteller's tent, where an old woman spun tales of the festival's origins—a legend of a girl who climbed the sky to pluck stars for her lost love, scattering dandelion seeds as she fell back to earth."Romantic, right?" Nina whispered, elbowing Anne.Anne rolled her eyes, but the story lingered, its echoes brushing against her own tangled feelings for Deon. She caught him watching her during the tale, his expression soft, unreadable, and her heart tripped over itself.As night deepened, the main event began. The crowd gathered in the field's heart, each person handed a paper lantern and a dandelion puff. The band struck up a slow, soaring melody, and a voice called out instructions: make a wish, blow the seeds, release the lantern—let the stars catch what you dream.Anne stood beside Deon, their shoulders brushing, the lantern's heat warming her hands. Nina, Matt, and Jacks fanned out nearby, their own lanterns glowing like tiny suns. The air buzzed with anticipation, a collective breath held."Got your wish ready?" Anne asked, glancing at Deon.He nodded, his grin softening into something quieter. "Yeah. You?""Working on it," she said, though her mind was a jumble—of him, of this year, of the impossible made real.The signal came—a drumbeat rolling through the field—and the crowd moved as one. Anne closed her eyes, blowing her dandelion seeds into the air, their white wisps spiraling upward. She wished for clarity, for courage, for the life she was building with Deon to hold steady. Then she released her lantern, watching it rise, a golden speck against the vast, star-strewn sky.Deon's lantern followed, his seeds scattering like a soft explosion. He didn't speak, but his gaze stayed on the light as it climbed, a weight to his silence that made her wonder what he'd wished for.Around them, hundreds of lanterns floated, a constellation born from the earth, the dandelions glowing in their wake. Nina whooped, her lantern soaring high, while Matt and Jacks laughed, their own wishes mingling with the stars. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and Anne felt a lump rise in her throat—a mix of awe and something deeper, something tied to the man beside her.Later, as the crowd thinned and the band played its final notes, the group found a spot near the field's edge, a patch of dandelions untouched by the night's chaos. They sprawled on a blanket Nina had brought, passing around pastries and a thermos of cider, the air cool and sharp with the scent of frost.Deon sat close to Anne, his knee brushing hers, his quietness lingering. She nudged him. "You okay? You've been off since the lanterns."He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just thinking. This night—it's a lot.""Yeah," she agreed, studying him. "What'd you wish for?"He hesitated, then stood, offering her a hand. "Walk with me? Need some air."She took it, letting him pull her up, and they wandered away from the group, the dandelions whispering under their boots. Nina caught her eye as they left, a knowing smirk on her lips, but Anne ignored it, her focus on Deon.They stopped near a lone lantern pole, its light casting a soft halo around them. The field stretched out, a sea of fluff and shadow, the city a distant glow on the horizon. Deon turned to her, his hands shoved into his pockets, his breath misting in the cold."Anne," he said, his voice low, "I need to ask you something."Her heart stuttered, sensing the shift in him. "Okay."He took a step closer, his eyes locking on hers—those sky-blue depths she'd known since childhood, now carrying a weight she couldn't name. "Promise me something. Promise you'll never forget me again."She blinked, caught off guard. "What?""I was gone once," he said, his words tumbling out faster now. "You forgot me—left me in the dark, and I didn't even know what I'd lost until you brought me back. I can't go through that again. I need you to promise you'll keep me here, with you, no matter what."Her throat tightened, the rawness in his voice cutting through her. She saw the boy he'd been—gap-toothed, loyal, her shield against the world—and the man he'd become, steady and real, standing before her. "Deon," she said softly, "I won't forget you. I couldn't, even if I tried. You're… you're part of me."He exhaled, relief flickering across his face, but there was more—something unspoken hovering between them. Before she could press, he pulled her into a hug, his arms tight around her, his chin resting on her head. She melted into it, the warmth of him chasing away the night's chill, her own promise settling deep in her bones."I mean it," she murmured against his chest. "You're not going anywhere."He pulled back, his smile returning, softer now. "Good. That's all I need."They stood there, the lantern's glow painting them in gold, and Anne felt a shift—a door opening, a bond sealing. Whatever he was—shadow, dream, miracle—he was hers, and she wouldn't let him fade again.Back at the blanket, the group was packing up, the festival winding down. Nina sidled up to Deon as Anne helped Matt fold the blanket, her voice low but firm."You've got it bad, don't you?" she said, her eyes glinting with mischief.Deon froze, then grinned sheepishly. "That obvious?""To me, yeah," Nina replied, crossing her arms. "That hug wasn't just friendly. You're in love with her, aren't you?"He didn't deny it, his gaze drifting to Anne, who was laughing at something Jacks said. "Yeah," he admitted, the word a quiet release. "Figured it out last weekend. Didn't know what to do with it."Nina nodded, her smirk softening. "Thought so. Look, she's tough, but she's scared too—scared of losing what matters. That promise you got outta her? It's big. Means she's in deep, even if she doesn't say it yet."Deon's heart thudded, hope and nerves tangling together. "You think she feels it too?""I know her," Nina said. "She's halfway there—she just needs a push. Tell her, Deon. Not tonight—let her sit with that promise—but soon. Be straight with her. She'll surprise you."He swallowed, the weight of it settling in. "Thanks, Nina.""Don't mess it up," she warned, then clapped him on the shoulder and rejoined the group.The walk home was quiet, the five of them bundled against the cold, their breath puffing in the night air. Matt and Jacks led the way, debating pastry rankings, while Nina lagged behind, tossing Deon a final wink. Anne walked beside him, her shoulder brushing his, the silence between them comfortable but charged.The festival lingered in Anne's mind—the lanterns, the wishes, Deon's plea. She'd meant her promise, every word, but it stirred something deeper, a question she wasn't ready to face. She glanced at him, catching the soft curve of his smile, and felt that question pulse louder.Back at the apartment, the group dispersed with hugs and sleepy goodbyes, leaving Anne and Deon alone. She kicked off her boots, the dandelion fluff still clinging to her jeans, and sank onto the couch. He joined her, close enough that their knees touched, the wooden star from the ring-toss resting in his hand."Great night," he said, twirling the star between his fingers."Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft. "Really great."He looked at her, his eyes searching, and for a moment, she thought he'd say more—something big, something that matched the weight of his promise. But he just smiled, tucking the star into her palm."Keep this," he said. "A little piece of tonight."She closed her fingers around it, the wood warm from his touch. "I will."They sat there, the quiet wrapping around them, the festival's magic still humming in the air. Anne didn't know what came next, but she knew one thing: Deon was hers to keep, and she'd fight to make sure of it.Across the room, his folded confession stayed hidden in his jacket pocket, waiting for the right moment—a moment Nina had promised would come.