First, I want to say thank you for being patient with me. I appreciate you. Really.

Second, I'm really sorry. It's been months :( I will post the next chapter on Wednesday!

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter <3 and for those who are wondering, KY is pronounced as Kai. But some of my friends call him Kei Wai, Ki, Key. It's your choice ;) happy reading!

*****

With the loud beating of my heart, I didn't notice that Kyle is holding my hand as we run to the parking lot.

I'm surprised when he continues and we round the corner towards the motorcycle area.

I'm even more dumbfounded when we stop in front of a black dangerous looking two-wheel vehicle.

I take a step back when he gets a key from his pocket.

I swallow the lump in my throat. Don't tell me. . .

"Where did you get this motorcycle?"

"Now's not the time to ask questions," he says.

Did Kyle steal it? I basically saw him driving a car before, not a motorcycle.

"Where?" I repeat.

"I rent it."

"Where?"

"You have so many questions!" he says furiously as he looks back to the way we came in. "Just hop on before they catch up on us."

I'm afraid to look back, but I can hear the loud footsteps coming towards us.

Paparazzi. No wonder they are called annoying buzzing mosquitos in Italy.

"Elle!"

"I've never ridden a motorcycle before," I say hesitantly.

"It's like riding a bicycle."

Biting my lip, I whisper, "I don't even know how to ride a bike."

"You're impossible", he mutters.

"Sorry."

"If you're too afraid, let's just run", he says, rolling his eyes. "They are coming."

"What?"

Whipping around, I find three men running toward us, snapping pictures with their gigantic cameras. I turn around quickly before they can capture my face. I can't let them take a picture of us.

Mom told me not to ride in a motorcycle because it's dangerous. But do I have a choice? It's either get caught by crazy paparazzi, or get killed in a motorcycle accident.

Without further thinking, I say, "Let's go!"

Kyle raises his eyebrow.

I gesture at his deadly vehicle.

He grins and hands me a helmet. I watch him as he puts his own helmet on his head. When he's done, he takes my helmet and secures it on my head. I try not to look in his eyes. I try not to watch the sweat dripping on his forehead. He is obviously tensed, no matter how calm he looks. Meanwhile, I can't even breathe properly with the short distance between us.

I can't help but wonder why he has two helmets.

And this motorcycle. . .

Did he rent it, along with the additional helmet, thinking he will ride on it with Charlie?

"What are you waiting for?" Kyle asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

I didn't even notice he's already starting it.

The loud rumble of the engine makes me nervous.

"Elle!" Kyle says, patting the space behind him.

I hop quickly, and wrap my arms around him as if my life depends on it.

And off we go.

If you think you can die while riding the fastest roller coaster in the world, try riding a motorcycle.

I feel like flying.

I feel like being thrown from the sky.

I can hear my scream even through my helmet. "I don't want to die yet!"

I can't see anything; mainly because my eyes are closed.

I'm sure my hair is a tangled mess.

I clutch Kyle with all my might. With our close proximity, our clothes are the only things separating us; I can feel his body shaking with laughter.

I've never been in a physical contact to a person like this.  And it's making me feel things I've never felt before.

Thousands of thoughts filled my mind.

Forget that I am moving on from him. This is utterly amazing.

I tighten my arms around him.

No, don't judge me. I can feel your eyes on me. I just don't want to fall.

If my mom finds out about this she'll kill me. Well if I'm still alive after this.

Actually, I don't know where we are. And I don't really care, as long as we put a long distance from the paparazzi.

The incident with Nate's Instagram account? I never want it to happen again. I already have bashers and haters. If they see me with Kyle, I can only imagine what hateful words they'll use against me. It's kind of funny how they can choose colorful words to hurt me.

After about thirty minutes, he slows down and comes to a complete stop in front of a small park.

"I think we're safe here," Kyle says as soon as he takes off his helmet.

I look around and don't see anything. Just the long stretch of the highway, and this small patch of grass where we are standing.

To be honest, I got tired. I feel drained, and thirsty. My throat is sore from too much screaming.

"You okay?" Kyle asks.

I nod, still too shaken to speak.

I think the ground is shaking. Or is it my knees? I lean on the motorcycle, but Kyle grabs my arm and helps me up.

"Do you want to sit?" he asks.

I shake my head. I'm afraid if I sit down, I might vomit.

We're both silent as we wait for my breathing to return to normal. That was the most thrilling ride I've ever had. Just thinking about riding it again makes my head dizzy.

"Elle?" Kyle says, a hint of concern coloring his tone.

"I'm fine," I say. "Just tired. Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think they will find us?"

"Doubt it," he says.

The confidence in his voice reassures me.

"What were you doing in the mall?" he asks. I didn't know it's already time for interrogation. "And why were you wearing a wig?"

"In case your fans recognize me," I lie.

My goodness! I've never expected the lies will come easily to me now. They come out of my mouth as if it's normal. This is a bad sign. My lies keep on piling up.

"Because of your picture with Nate?" Kyle asks.

I nod.

I study his face for a sign of suspicion, but there isn't anything suggesting he's not trusting me. He does something I did not expect- he laughs.

I watch him, wondering if he's gone crazy.

From the time I've spent with him in the house, and during the tour, I can count on my one hand the times he laughed.

"You're now wearing disguise just like us!" He says, clutching his hands on his stomach.

I don't even know why he finds it so funny. Maybe stress is getting him.

"I should have taken a picture of you before the paparazzi found us," he continues. "The guys will absolutely die in laughter!"

"Is it really funny?" I ask.

He nods, still smiling.

When he smiles, his whole face lights up. It only happens when he's on stage, singing in front of thousands of people. It's weird seeing him like this when I'm the only one he's smiling at.

"It's a shame your wig got lost," he says all of a sudden.

I automatically touch my hair, and sure enough, it's gone. I didn't even notice it fell off.

Kyle steps towards me and takes a strand of my hair. "But maybe it's not a real lost when you look good with your natural hair."

I blink.

Did he just compliment me?

Kyle looks into my eyes as he raises his hand to my face.

I hold my breath.

And close my eyes.

And wait for his lips to touch mine.

That's when his phone rings.

He answers it immediately.

I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed. Maybe it's better this way.

"Mom?"

I snap my head in his direction.

"Yes, I'm fine." He glances at me and says, "I'm with Brielle."

My eyes automatically widen. What are they talking about?

Kyle smiles slowly, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. "You could say that." He laughs.

I frown. Now I'm dying to listen to their conversation.

After about a minute, he hands me his phone.

"What?" I ask.

"Mom wants to talk to you."

 I take his phone reluctantly. I'm not sure what Mrs. Swift wants.

"Brielle, how are you?"

"I'm okay," I say.

"Don't tell her about the paparazzi," Kyle whispers.

"Are you alone with my son?" Mrs. Swift asks.

"Yes," I answer.

Kyle watches my expression as I talk to his mom.

"Are you on a date?"

I gulp. "Um."

"Brielle, you don't have to be shy. You can tell me if you're dating my son."

I bet my face is beet red. I turn around so Kyle will not see me. This whole situation is embarrassing.

"Mrs. Swift, we're not dating," I say as quietly as I can.

"That's okay," she says, a hint of amusement slipping in her voice. "If two people are meant to be together, it doesn't mean they have to be together right now."

I can hear Mr. Swift's voice in the background, but I don't understand what he's saying.

"Draky, don't distract me!"

"Pie, I also want to. . ."

I smile when I hear their pet names for each other.

There's a slight buzz on the other end, and then Mrs. Swift comes back. "I'm sorry about that," she says. "My husband keeps on getting the phone. I'll just call you again. I don't want to interrupt your date."

"But it's not—"

"I'll see you both soon."

When Mrs. Swift hangs up, Kyle asks, "What did my mom say?"

As if I can tell him his mom is shipping us, as if we're an item. Instead of answering his question, I ask him, "Why didn't you want your mom to know that paparazzi were after us?"

Kyle scratches the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "My mom easily gets worried. She thinks I don't have a private life because people are following me wherever I go."

"That's maternal instinct," I say. "It's natural; her first thought is to protect you because you are her son."

"Sometimes I'm tired of having to run away," he says.

I'm surprised at Kyle's confession. It's my first time to see him like this. Why now, when I finally let him go?

"I miss living a normal life."

"There are always pros and cons," I say. "You can't have everything you want."

"I'm glad you're with me."

Slowly, I turn to him. "What?"

He kicks the stone in front of him. "I was having a bad day when those paparazzi spot us. If you were not with me, I might have done something stupid."

"Weren't you with Charlie?" I ask. "Why are you having a—"

No. No. No.

I am busted.

I am seriously done for.

Brielle, why don't you use your brain?

I need to think before I speak.

I have to learn to shut my mouth.

Kyle cocks his head and gives me a sideway glance. "You knew I was with Charlie?" he asks.

I turn away from him, afraid that when he sees my expression, he'll find out what I did. I close my eyes and hope the ground will swallow me whole.

At least, I can give him a little version of the truth. "Yes, I saw you with Charlie earlier."

"Why didn't you say something?" he asks. "We didn't see you."

"I didn't want to intrude," I say. "Where is she now?"

"Sometimes in life, you get disappointed," he says, staring into the distance. He didn't answer my question. "Why is my expectation always better than reality?"

I look at the sky and gather my thoughts. "Life never goes the way we plan it. We can never control everything."

"Life is a tangled mess."

I couldn't agree more.

There's this moment when we both just look at each other with smiles on our faces. I think it lasted for a minute. And I think, this is it!

We will have our moment this time, and his phone will not ring again.

But before it became even more special, Kyle looks away.

And I'm embarrassed because for a second I thought he'll kiss me.

I am delusional.

This needs to stop. I am digging my own grave.

Eureka moment, remember?

Putting my hands on my hips, I ask him, "Are you gay?"