"I should be where he stands,  

But you're too blind to see,  

You and I cannot deny,  

We were meant to be."                                                                    - Bach's Revenge debut album, track 9

OP's or the Oriental Phoenix was the place to be for Asian cuisine. Rumor had it, the  head chef was a Michelin star decorated master in the culinary kingdom. When they  entered, Charlie gave herself the once over, deciding maybe jeans and her well used  American Eagle tee wasn't the best choice. She could practically hear Devin smirking.  

Sawyer, Lane and Robbie were all there along with Robbie's parents and the  newest addition to their family, six month old baby Ethan. Rosa walked with purpose  to the table and gestured for them to sit down.  

"Hey Ma Russo," Sawyer said.  

She smiled and gave him a "Hi, sweetheart," before looking at Lane. "Where are  your parents?"  

Lane shrugged. "Saving the dolphins or something. Some fundraiser."  

Rosa's jaw tensed but Lane recovered. "No worries. They bought the tickets four  months ago. My mom offered to sell them to be here instead, but," he waved his hand,  "It's not that big a deal. It's her thing, you know?" 

Rosa remained unconvinced and shook her head as she sat. Charlie's parents  followed suit. Charlie slid into the booth with Sebastian right beside her. Devin situated  herself on his other side, probably wishing she could sit on his lap instead. She didn't  even try to hide her crush on Sebastian, but he was good about it, often giving her a  playful tease.  

The waitress was quick to bring glasses of water, and Charlie's father wasted no  time in holding his up. "I propose a toast. Sawyer, Lane, Robert--" 

Robbie crinkled his nose as if the sound of his full name smelled disgusting.  

Ethan put the napkin ring he was chewing on down and giggled at his brother.  

"And of course, Sebastian," Charlie's father continued. "You boys have worked  so hard to reach this goal. You are all exceptionally talented young men with such a  bright future. Sebastian, I have two girls who I adore, but you, you are the son I never  had," his voice began to crack. "And I've never been more proud of you." His finger  wiped at moisture collecting in his eyes. "Cheers!"  

Glasses chimed together, everyone was smiling, even though Charlie's was  forced.  

God was trying to punish her. That had to be it. This entire thing was some sort  of sick torture. Had Sebastian not kissed her, not said those five words to her "I wrote it  for you," chances were, she'd be faring a lot better than she was. But he had, and now she  found herself picking his words apart and trying to piece them back together again. To  bury the recollection of the softness of his mouth on hers. To tell herself she didn't like  it.  

The table exploded with excitement and laughter at the same time she felt like  she might implode on herself. How long had they been here? As if the waitress had  some sort of telepathic ability, she delivered the food.  

Charlie glanced down in horror. There were only chopsticks, a tool she'd never  fully mastered. She stared at her plate. Shakily, she picked the chopsticks up, mouth  watering in anticipation, she moved to retrieve a piece of ginger beef, but the  chopsticks fumbled and it fell. She groaned.  

Sebastian whispered, "What's wrong?"  

"There's no forks."  

He laughed. "Right, you can't do the chopstick thing, I forgot."  

Everyone, even Devin, picked up their chopsticks and expertly began taking  pieces of food. Charlie studied their fingers, wanting to mimic how they held them. She  formed a 'v' with the sticks and tried to pick up an eggroll, figuring it was a little more  solid than the beef. She fumbled again, though, and it ended up falling back onto the  plate. 

"A valiant effort, but painful to watch," Sebastian murmured.  

Heat flushed her face. "I'll get it." She made a final attempt and failed before she  huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. It was no wonder Mia, her Asian friend was  such a rake. She probably didn't eat anything.  

"Having some problems, bella?"  

"Can't I just stab it? I might starve to death."  

Sebastian leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear. "You can stab it but you  should know that it's considered bad luck to do so, or you can let me play hero and save you from starvation and possible misfortune by showing you how to use them."  

"I do know how to use them," she countered.  

Sebastian smirked. "Oh yeah? How's that working for you?"  

"Shut up," she said.  

He shrugged and turned back to his food. "Suit yourself."  

"Wait!" Her stomach rumbled a threat of attack on itself. Or maybe that was her  nerves. "Help."  

His arm swung behind her back, and his fingers softly brushed her bare skin as  he brought his hand down the length of her arm, stopping at her fingers. Her body  responded by tensing like an elastic might stretch. It wasn't without notice. "You're  jumpy," he said softly. "Relax."  

But she couldn't. She had a boyfriend. And a boy. Friend. Who took priority?  

And now, she felt like she was on his lap, Devin's much coveted spot, as his body was  

solid behind her, his mouth in her ear, and his hand over hers. His fingertips were  rough, calloused from his guitar. Very different from his lips earlier.  

She sucked in a breath and glanced around the table. Not one person seemed to indicate this was out of place, save for Sawyer, who, when he met her gaze, revealed his  teeth to show an ice cube stuck between them.  

She exhaled. Had she been holding her breath for that long? 

Sebastian repositioned her fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world  for him to be doing. "The most important thing," he said, "is to leave the bottom one  stationary, don't move it. And then this one," he shook the top one around, "you use to  grab the food, like pinchers."  

She allowed him to show her, by retrieving the elusive eggroll and bringing it to  her mouth. She concentrated on the placement and movement of her fingers, and before  long she was able to do it without him.  "Look at you," he teased. "You're like an old pro."  

She laughed. "Hardly." Her cheeks were still on fire when she turned her head,  forgetting how close he was. "Thank you."  

"Well, I wouldn't want you to starve." As he spoke, he moved his hand away but  not before rubbing her wrist with the pad of his thumb. 

Something in her responded to his touch. Alarm bells went off inside her mind,  and no matter how much she tried to listen to them, secretly, she wanted more.

Charlie was a hair-twirling, lip-biting, neck-rubbing mess. He'd never seen her so  nervous and prayed to all the different Gods he'd heard of that it was a good sign.  

Surely one of them was listening. He didn't want to move. Helping her use her  chopsticks was the perfect excuse to touch her and it ended too soon. Once their table  was cleared, the waitress delivered a tray of fortune cookies.  

Charlie remained as shaky as she was earlier and regarded her cookie like it may  contain a warning of impending death. Sebastian cracked his open the same way he did  just about everything else, impulsively. He rolled the tiny scroll through his fingers.  

"Success is not the result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire."  

"That's so fitting, honey," his mother said. "You will succeed."  

Sebastian looked at Charlie and raised his eyebrow. "Aren't you going to open  yours? What's it say?"  

She broke the cookie and cleared her throat. "Uh, it says, there is always some  madness in love but there is always some reason in madness." She blushed  horrendously, bringing a smile to his face. "Who stuffs these things?" She asked,  holding her paper between her fingers. "Probably the same person who decides not to  offer traditional cutlery. Stupid fortune cookie stuffer-slash-chopstick lover." 

Robbie sighed. "Anyone wanna know what mine says?"  

Sawyer dug in his glass for another ice cube. "No. I'll guess. It says 'Be careful  when you look in a mirror.'"  

Lane laughed quietly with his eyes fixed on the table.  

"Actually, it says, never play leapfrog with a unicorn."  

*** 

He made it through dinner, just barely. The suspense was worse than it had been  earlier in the day when he waited to find out if he had a record deal or not. He'd give  the deal up for the girl if he had to, but he hoped he'd land both.  

Charlie flew up the stairs, two at a time and was in the middle of her room in  record time. Sebastian closed the door and locked it behind him. He hadn't been this  scared since he was a kid, hearing old pipes knocking in the middle of the night but as  terrifying as the prospect of telling her was, the thought of letting it go on any longer,  scared him more.  

She wrapped her arms around middle. "You wrote that song for me."  

"Yes," he nodded.  

"What do you mean? What does it mean?"  

He moved forward and rested his hand gently on the side of her face. The  gesture was familiar, one that he did often, but he'd not really allowed himself to admit  that he wanted her. Now that he had, it felt different. "They're all for you," he  whispered. 

"What did you say?"  

"Every song I've written, since second grade, they've all been for you. And that  song I sung to you today, I mean every word. I can't do this anymore."  

"Do what?" 

"Pretend. Lie to you. To myself." His head spun. The faster it circled, the quicker  the words flew out. His body moved in closer, pressed right against her and his voice  dropped lower, making Charlie swallow hard. "I want you. Don't tell me you haven't  noticed."  

"I won't tell you then." 

"I spend all my time with you, I sleep next to you every night, I hold you in my  arms, I sing to you, I flirt with you." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Really,  you haven't noticed?"  

"You flirt with everyone, Seb," she pointed out. "And you've sung to me and  slept beside me for years. Why would I think anything was different?" 

He ran his hands down her arms and pulled them away from her body. "Because  it is different."  

She stared at him blankly and paled. "I think I need air."   

Charlie shoved the balcony door open and marched to the railing. She gripped it so  hard, her knuckles turned white. What the hell was he talking about? Did he know the  weight of the words he was throwing around so carelessly? Did he believe the things he  was saying? What about Mitch, where did he fit in?  

She was so focused, she didn't even hear him come behind her, but she felt his  chest pressed against her back, smelled the sweet scent of his skin. His voice was low.  "Bella," he whispered. "Tell me you want it too."  

A tear fell and as it cascaded down her cheek, it took her by surprise. She turned  slowly to face him. His eyes were usually alive, dancing with confidence, but now, they  were ambivalent and dark. She'd never seen Sebastian vulnerable before. He stood  before her a stranger.  

"Seb," she started, "I--" 

"Wait. Don't say anything yet. Not until you hear the truth."  

She opened her mouth to object, she couldn't bear hearing anymore. But he  continued, "The truth is that you should be with me, not him. He doesn't know you, not  the way I do."  

"Sebastian--"  

His eyes narrowed and his hands gripped her waist, pulling her near to him. "I  love you, I love you the way Mitch thinks he does."  

Her brows knitted together. "Mitch loves me," she declared in a cracking voice.  Maybe if she said it out loud, she could convince herself it was true.  

"No," Sebastian spoke without hesitation. "He thinks he does, just like you think  you love him but I promise you this, no one will ever love you the way I do."  

Her breath caught. "Sebastian, why now? Why are you telling me this now?"  

"Because you deserve the best of everything, not some guy like me. But I don't  care anymore. I thought you should be with some brilliant guy who could provide for  you in the future, you know, like when you get married. But after today, maybe I can be  that guy. I want to be that guy, if you'll let me. It will be the only thing that makes this  day better than it already is."  

Tears stained her face, drenching her shirt. She couldn't even bring herself to  look him in the eyes, so, she focused on her shoes. She couldn't do this. The idea of  Sebastian being anything other than her best friend was terrifying. "Sebastian." His  name sounded foreign, as if it were someone else preparing to break his heart. Anyone  else. Just not her. She didn't want to hurt him. "We can't do this."  

"Don't say that. God. Please don't say that." 

"I have to. It would never work."  

"Are you kidding me?" He asked incredulously, "Two people couldn't be more  perfect for each other than we are."  

"I-I-I love Mitch," she blurted before she could stop herself.  

"You love me too," he whispered, "you can't even look at me because you know  it's true."  

She couldn't prolong it anymore. She raised her eyes to meet his. The grey color  of them, saturated in moisture reflected the moon, so much so, that it looked as though  they were mirror images of each other. 

"Yes," she said. "I do. Just not the way you want me to."  

He swayed as if staying in place was intolerable and leaned to place a kiss on  her forehead. "He doesn't love you like I do," he said. "No one will ever love you like  that."  

The words echoed in her ears the entire time she watched him walk away.