Turning Point

Elijah couldn't sleep.

He'd been staring at the ceiling for hours, his phone resting on his chest, screen black.

No new messages.

Still.

He imagined her voice. Her laugh. The fire in her eyes when she was mad. The way she used to mock him, then blush when he called her out on it.

Brielle Kingsley.

She wasn't supposed to matter. Not like this.

He rolled onto his side, groaning quietly. His chest had felt heavy for days, weeks even, ever since the suspension. Ever since the sponsors called him in, voices cold and polite as they reminded him what was at stake.

Keep your head down. Stay out of trouble. Do not associate with scandals.

Translation?

Stay away from her.

And like a coward, he had.

He watched her spiral alone. Heard the whispers. Saw the edited video go viral again and again. And still, he kept his mouth shut.

Because he couldn't afford to lose everything.

But in trying to save his future, he was losing the only person who had ever made him feel alive.

"Elijah?" a soft voice came from the doorway.

Grace.

His little sister stood there in her oversized hoodie, holding a mug of hot chocolate and concern in her eyes.

"You're awake," she said gently, walking in.

"I'm fine."

She gave him a look. "You're lying."

He sighed, sitting up. "It's complicated."

"She came here," Grace said, sitting beside him. "After the suspension. She didn't say much, but… I could tell she was broken. Like you."

He stared down at his hands.

"I can't protect her and protect us at the same time, Grace."

His sister was quiet for a long moment.

Then, softly: "You think she needs you to protect her?"

He looked up.

"She's not fragile, Eli. She's fire," Grace whispered. "But even fire goes cold when it's left alone too long."

That hit him in the gut.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room.

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"But you did," Grace said gently.

"And she's still waiting."

That part shattered something inside him.

All this time, he'd justified his silence. Told himself it was temporary. That it was better for her too. But Brielle had faced her parents. Faced the world. Alone.

And where was he?

Running.

Elijah grabbed his hoodie and phone. "I have to see her."

Grace smiled and handed him the hot chocolate. "Take this too. She likes the tiny marshmallows."

It was almost midnight when he found himself outside the Kingsley estate.

The gates loomed like walls guarding a different world.

But tonight, he wasn't backing down.

He pressed the intercom. "It's Elijah Carter. I… need to see Brielle."

A pause.

Then, a click. The gate opened.

The moment he stepped into the marble-floored foyer, Elijah knew he wasn't welcome.

Mr. Kingsley stood tall in a silk robe, arms crossed, icy gaze sharp.

Mrs. Kingsley hovered near the stairs, lips pursed, expression unreadable.

"I suppose you think you're being romantic," Mr. Kingsley said coolly. "Showing up unannounced at midnight, like some tragic love story."

"I came to see Brielle," Elijah said evenly.

"You've done enough," Mrs. Kingsley cut in. "Since you entered her life, all she's done is spiral."

"I didn't spiral because of him!" Brielle's voice rang out from the top of the stairs.

She was barefoot, messy-haired, in Elijah's old hoodie.

Beautiful. Defiant. Heartbreak etched across her face.

Her parents turned.

"Don't do this," her mother said in a low voice. "Not for him."

Brielle descended the stairs, slow and deliberate. "He's not the problem. You are."

Mr. Kingsley's jaw ticked. "Brielle..."

"No! I'm done being your project. Your image. Your brand," she said, her voice breaking. "I stood alone when the world turned on me. I begged for you to listen. You cared more about headlines than me."

"Brielle..." her mom tried again, softer this time.

But she shook her head. "I'm not your puppet anymore."

She walked straight past them and stood beside Elijah, slipping her hand into his.

Elijah's breath hitched.

Her father's eyes narrowed. "He's using you. You're throwing everything away for a boy who can't give you anything."

"Wrong," Brielle said, voice firm. "He gave me everything that matters. Honesty. Loyalty. Kindness. He made me feel human."

She turned to Elijah.

"And I'm sorry I ever made you feel like you weren't enough."

He stared at her, eyes stinging.

"I never blamed you, Brielle."

Her grip tightened.

For a long moment, the room was silent. Tense. Uneasy.

Then Mr. Kingsley exhaled, cold and clipped. "You can have your rebellion. But don't expect us to support it."

Brielle nodded. "Good. I don't want your support. I just want my life back."

Her mother's voice cracked, barely audible. "You've changed."

Brielle looked at her, really looked.

"No. I'm just finally becoming who I was meant to be."

Then, still holding Elijah's hand, she turned and walked out.

No music. Just city lights blinking in the distance.

"I didn't think they'd actually say all that," Elijah murmured.

Brielle shrugged. "They always do. But I'm not scared anymore."

She turned to face him. "You still in this with me?"

He looked at her, heart full. "Always."

And for the first time in a long time…

They weren't pretending.

They weren't hiding.

They were just two broken kids who chose each other.

And somehow, that was enough.