Chapter 3 unique

Chelsea

✦

I slam the front door behind me and don't even bother turning on the lights.

I can barely see through the tears, but I know this house like the back of my hand. My feet carry me on autopilot up the stairs, down the hall, and into my bedroom. The second the door clicks shut behind me, I let myself crumble.

The weight in my chest is unbearable.

I toss my bag down, kick off my sneakers, and crawl straight onto the bed without bothering to change or pull back the sheets. I just fall—face-first—onto the mattress and let out a sound between a scream and a sob. My breath trembles as I try to calm myself, but it's useless. The sting on my cheek is still there. The red hot imprint of what just happened feels like it's burning through my skin.

I tried.

God, I really tried. I didn't come at him yelling. I wasn't being dramatic. I was calm. I just wanted to have a normal, mature conversation. I wanted to tell him how I've been feeling—that he's been distant, short with me, like I'm more of a burden than someone he loves. I wanted to talk about how I feel like I don't even recognize us anymore.

But he snapped.

Just like last time.

His voice got louder, his hands flew up, and then—crack—it happened again.

He hit me.

Not hard enough to leave a mark this time, maybe. But hard enough to feel it. Hard enough to make me stop mid-sentence and stare at him like he wasn't even human anymore.

And I stormed out.

I had to. For myself. I grabbed my keys, barely aware of anything else around me. I didn't even realize Alex was coming home until I was already brushing past him, already halfway out the door. I didn't want him to see me like that. Not with my eyes wet and my hands shaking. Not with his brother's hoodie wrapped around me like some sick joke.

I hate that I still care how Alex sees me.

I roll over, staring at the ceiling through the blur. My chest rises and falls with shallow, broken breaths, and I wonder how the hell I got here. How did it get so bad? How did he get so bad?

And why do I feel so alone?

I wipe my face with the sleeve of Kethan's hoodie, the fabric soft but smelling like him, which makes everything worse.

I can't break up with him.

God, I've tried. More times than I can count. I've gotten as far as saying "we need to talk," and every time, he flips. He threatens me. He reminds me of the things he knows—stuff I told him in confidence when I thought I was safe. Secrets no one else in the world knows. And if they ever came out? It would destroy me.

He could ruin everything. My future. My reputation. My family.

He's already held it over my head more than once.

He's the hockey captain. Prom king. Rich, charming, always smiling for the crowd. People eat up every word he says. If I spoke out—if I told the truth—no one would believe me. I'd be just another "crazy ex" who couldn't handle being dumped.

I'm trapped.

And the worst part? I don't think anyone even notices.

I sigh, staring up at the ceiling as my mind flickers back to Alex. It's messed up, but part of me wanted to stay when I saw him. Just to feel safe for a second. Just to feel... seen.

How is he even Kethan's brother?

They're totally different. Alex is quiet, grounded, thoughtful. His eyes say more than his mouth ever does. Kethan walks into a room and demands it—Alex slips in and listens. It's wild to think they came from the same family. But maybe that's what draws me in. Or maybe I'm just desperate to feel anything that isn't fear or guilt.

My phone buzzes again.

Kethan.

Then again. And again. My screen is filled with missed calls and texts. "Answer me." "Where the fuck did you go." "You think you can walk out on me?"

I throw the phone facedown on the bed. My hands are shaking.

Not even five seconds later, it rings again. This time, it's not him. It's Livia.

I hesitate—then swipe to answer. "Hey."

"Hey girly," she chirps, her voice light, like the world isn't caving in on itself. "Wanna go grab some coffee? I'm bored."

I stare at the ceiling, the storm inside me cracking just a little at the sound of her voice. She's annoying sometimes, and flirty to a fault, but she's always been there. Even when I didn't want her to be.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Sure," I say quietly. "Pick me up?"

"On my way."

Click.

I hang up, exhaling slowly. I don't know if I can pretend to be okay. But maybe for now, all I need is caffeine, Livia's dramatics, and a chance to breathe.

Even if just for a minute.

Livia's car pulls up in front of my house, her engine purring like it's doing her bidding. I drag myself off the bed, pulling on a jacket over Kethan's hoodie, not caring how much it smells like him. I don't bother looking in the mirror before heading out. I don't need to see my reflection right now.

I slide into the passenger seat of Livia's bright red Jeep, the scent of her perfume and some fruity air freshener filling the space.

"Hey, girl," Livia greets me as I settle in. Her energy's contagious, and she's already driving us to the coffee shop. "You've been laying low, huh? What's going on?"

I shrug, not sure if I want to get into it. "Just... stuff," I mutter, trying to keep it vague.

Livia doesn't press. Instead, she shifts the topic to a much lighter subject—one I've heard all too often lately. "So, I'm just saying... if Alex ever noticed me, I think I'd be the happiest girl in the world. Imagine it—double dates with you and Kethan, but with me and Alex," she says, practically swooning.

I roll my eyes at the familiar tone in her voice. It's not the first time she's brought up Alex, and it definitely won't be the last. Livia's been obsessed with him for months now, practically talking about him like he's some kind of unattainable prize.

"You're still on about him?" I ask, my voice dripping with disbelief.

Livia grins, not caring one bit. "Are you kidding? Have you seen him? The guy's gorgeous. And I love that whole 'bad boy but actually super nice' vibe he gives off. Plus, that skin condition he's got—Blaschko's lines—makes him even more unique. It's so... intriguing. I mean, how many guys have that? It's like his skin's a masterpiece, y'know?" She adds a dreamy sigh at the end, like she's talking about a celebrity crush, not my boyfriend's brother.

I feel my chest tighten at the mention of Alex's skin. Blaschko's lines are so distinctive—the irregular, streaked patterns on his arms, neck, and back—and while they're a part of him, they make him stand out in a way I don't think he's ever been fully comfortable with. He's always had them, but I guess it never occurred to me that someone like Livia would find them fascinating, even attractive. Maybe it's because she's always been into the idea of something... different. But hearing her talk about it like that makes me feel weird.

"I mean, I guess," I say, trying to sound indifferent. "It's just skin, Livia. Not like it's the most important thing about someone."

She shoots me a look, almost as if she's offended on Alex's behalf. "No, but it makes him unique, Chelsea. Not many guys can pull that off." She gives me a knowing grin, clearly teasing. "I mean, honestly, if I could just get him to notice me, we could go on double dates with you and Kethan. I'd love to hang out with him more."

I let out a laugh that's more out of habit than amusement. "You really think you'd be able to get him to notice you?"

She grins like she's already planning how she'd win him over. "I mean, I'd definitely try. What's the harm in a little persistence?"

I try not to let the sudden rush of jealousy show, but it's hard. I've never told anyone how badly I've wanted to be noticed by Alex—not just because of how different he is from Kethan, but because there's something about him that I've always felt drawn to. His quiet confidence, his way of just being himself. It's everything Kethan isn't. But I can't say that out loud, especially to Livia, of all people.

We arrive at the coffee shop, and I let her continue talking about her plans to catch Alex's eye. But in the back of my mind, I keep thinking about everything I've been avoiding—how I'm stuck, how I can't escape, how I'm in too deep with Kethan to break free. No one would believe me anyway, not with Kethan being the hockey captain, the prom king, and everyone's golden boy. And it's not like I have any options left.

But Livia? She has no idea what it's really like, and I can't bring myself to tell her the truth. She's still wrapped up in this idea that maybe, just maybe, Alex would look her way. It's naïve, but I can't bring myself to crush it.

We settle into a small booth, iced coffees in hand, the hum of the coffee shop chatter surrounding us. Livia's talking a mile a minute about some random drama at school, but my mind's somewhere else entirely. I can't help but let my thoughts drift to Alex.

Livia's still going on about her plans to get him to notice her, but all I can think about is how he looks when he's not paying attention, when he's just himself—his messy hair, the way his eyes seem to soften when he smiles.

And those Blaschko's lines... maybe Livia is right. The way they run down his arms, his neck. The streaks of darker skin on his light complexion. It's like his skin has a pattern all its own, something that's completely his. And when he wears short sleeves or a tank top—God, it almost is kind of mesmerizing.

I know it's not something people always understand. I've overheard people at school talking behind his back when they don't know what his skin condition is.

Some even make cruel jokes. It's one of the things that used to make him self-conscious, I'm sure. He's mentioned it before—how people stare or ask dumb questions about it.

But to me, those lines? They're... beautiful. Unique. They give him this rugged, untouchable quality that's just... different. I don't know how to explain it.

And then, of course, there's his body. It's so lean and strong, the kind of fit that comes from years of playing hockey. He's quick, built like an athlete, and the way he moves on the ice? Damn.

He's got this grace to him that not many guys have. I watch him when he's playing with Kethan's team. Kethan's good too, of course—he's the captain. But Alex? There's something about him. He's... I don't know.

I hear Livia talking, her voice dragging me back to the moment. "...so anyway, I swear, if Alex just looked at me the right way—"

I blink and realize I've been zoning out, staring into my iced coffee like it's some kind of magic potion.

"Chelsea?" Livia waves her hand in front of my face. "Hello?"

I shake my head, trying to focus. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

She smirks, obviously not buying it. "Thinking about Kethan again, huh?"

I try not to let the heat rise in my face. "Of course," I lie, sipping at my coffee a little too quickly. The cold hits the back of my throat, making me wince. "I was just... lost in thought."

Livia narrows her eyes, clearly suspicious, but she lets it go. "Sure, sure," she says with a teasing smile, her eyes already back on her phone as she scrolls through Instagram.

But I can't shake the image of Alex from my head. His smile, the way he plays hockey so effortlessly. And yeah, his skin—those lines are still there, running down his arms and shoulders, adding something raw, something real to his look.

I don't know what it is, but I can't help but feel drawn to him. Even if it's not something I could ever do anything about.