Waiting on the Stars - Chapter Thirteen

 

Declan stares into his closet in complete bewilderment, unsure of what to wear to Isla’s party. Anxiously, he considers what might still fit and look somewhat good on him. Acknowledging that it’s been a while since he last went out with friends, he suspects the outfit he wore ten years ago might not quite fit in.

 

He smirks, wondering why men’s fashion ever has to change. He would be happy wearing the same outfit every day; it would make no difference to him. He wouldn’t have to choose—everything would simply be ready to go.

 

He throws his head back and growls to himself, rubbing his gruff three-day-old beard and contemplating a shave for longer than he should.

 

 “So much effort,” he mutters. He tilts his head from side to side in the mirror, lowering his jawline and contorting his mouth into obtuse angles.

 

He pours some gel into his hands and applies it to his face. The gel spreads evenly through the pores of his skin, forming a plexi-mask. He gently peels off the solidified layer, revealing a smooth, fresh surface beneath.

 

 “Not bad… even if I say so myself,” Declan reflects, wondering why he doesn’t do this more often.

Scrolling through the display in front of his closet, he stops on a jacket given to him by his mother last Christmas. It actually looks good on him, but he’s never had the opportunity to wear it.

 

As he hits the “access” button, the storage bar rotates until the jacket comes into view. The COS—Closet Organizer and Steamer—carefully steams it before releasing it onto an extended bar that reaches through the closet.

 

He steps into the jacket, which seals to his form. The bio-network activates automatically, adjusting to his body temperature and comfort level. It reshapes itself precisely to match his current measurements for a perfect, tailored fit.

Sliding into the boots beside his sleeping pod, they seal around his feet for comfort while adding a subtle boost in height and balance.

 

A light cologne mist descends from the bathroom ceiling, calibrated for fragrance without overpowering deodorant. He grabs his SunBrights from the tray; they automatically unfold as he brings them to his face. A screen appears in the corner of his vision, responding to the movement of his eyes. He scans the latest news and virtual texts on the translucent holographic display.

 

As he reviews his messages, he notices one from Raiden: “Glad UR coming. Help Adele make friends.”

Perplexed, Declan raises an eyebrow. “Since when does Raiden care if anyone has friends?” he mutters.

 

He shakes his head, brushing off the comment “I know how to make Adele feel at home.”

 

Descending via transporter to his glider, Declan checks his reflection in the glass and nods in approval.

 

Moving through the aerial traffic, he wonders how the evening will go. Isla can be moody when things don’t go her way; he often finds himself diplomatically redirecting the target of her temporary irritation. Relieved that Isla has known Adele for years and looks up to her, he hopes there will be less friction involving Raiden.

 

At work, Adele has become a great friend. They often share lunch in the corporate dining room, chatting easily and discovering how much they have in common. It’s been a long time since Declan has felt so comfortable around someone who seems to understand him.

 

He takes one last glance at his reflection before arriving at Adele’s home. The transporter sanitizes the entryway before opening. As he steps inside, he inhales deeply—her home smells of vanilla and fresh flowers, like a garden of quiet, hopeful dreams.

“Hi! I’m just about ready!” Adele calls from the kitchen. “Would you like a soda, coffee, or water?”

 

“I’m good, thanks,” Declan replies, taking in the ambiance. Her home feels like her: quiet, understated, yet full of elegance and charm. He notices several capsules of his favorite novels on her desk. “What have you been reading lately? I see quite a selection.”

 

“Oh—yes, I forgot I left those out,” Adele says, hurrying. “I’ve been re-reading Jane Austen and Alexandre Dumas.”

 

“You really like the classics,” Declan says, impressed. “I’m more into Dickens and Hugo. I see you have some poetry too—do you ever read Cowper or William Blake?”

 

“Funny you ask—I was just looking at poetry today,” Adele replies. “I prefer Tennyson or Emily Dickinson, though.”

 

“I’ll bring in some modern poetry capsules for you,” Declan offers. “I think you might like Hanson or Dilworth.”

 

“I haven’t heard of them. Bring them to work on Monday—I’d love to read them.”

 

“I’m finally ready,” Adele announces, looking around for her purse.

Declan’s eyes light up—she looks beautiful, unlike anything he’s seen at work. “You look great,” he says, a bit flustered.

 

“Thank you,” Adele replies politely. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. I might be a little more dressed up than usual—I hope it’s not too much.”

 

“I think you’re perfect,” Declan says honestly, pleased that bringing her as his date worked out.

 

Blushing, Adele smiles. “You made my day.”

 

Declan offers his hand as she steps into the glider. Sitting beside her, he casually places an arm behind her as they lift off toward Isla’s home.

 

“You look good. Did you shave?” Adele asks, surprised at herself for blurting it out.

 

“Yes. Do you like it?” Declan asks confidently, stroking his chin.

 

“It’s a good look on you,” she says with a smile, quietly pleased by his effort.

 

They sit together in a moment of contented silence.

Suddenly, Declan’s connector flashes—Raiden’s name circling in bright red.

 

“Oh, it’s Raiden,” Declan says, annoyed at the interruption, debating whether to answer.

 

“It might be important,” Adele suggests.

 

“Hello?” Declan answers. “Yes, she’s right here. We’re on our way—should be there in about ten minutes. See you soon.”

 

“He was wondering if I forgot,” Declan explains. “To be fair, I usually don’t go when he invites me out. I used to spend more time with them, but I haven’t felt like it lately. Still… I think tonight will be good.”

 

“It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a party too,” Adele admits. “It’s not really my thing, but I know a few people there, which helps. And… it’s nice being with you tonight.”

 

“Well, here we are!” Declan announces, offering his hand again. The glider door opens into a staging area filled with others. He glances at her once more, feeling that tonight might be the beginning of something new.