The day Hollywood’s golden boy announced his wedding, the biggest star in the world spent the entire night smoking on her balcony. I leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on my face. “You should go crash the wedding.” Stella stubbed out her cigarette and curled into my arms. Her fingers traced the long, faded scar on my forearm—a souvenir from the time I took a knife for her. “You big idiot,” she whispered. “Don’t you have any faith in yourself?” Two days later, a friend at TMZ sent me a video. It was Stella, on a stage, tears streaming down her face as she and Ethan Cole kissed, a crowd roaring around them. That’s when the System came back online. Its voice was full of pity. I managed to get you a special offer. For just one dollar, you can continue to live… as Stella’s husband. I walked to the edge of the pier and tossed a dollar coin into the dark, churning water. “No, thanks.” It was only later that I heard the stories. How the great Stella Vance was squandering her fortune and her sanity, trying to dredge the entire Pacific coastline. All to find a single coin. 1 When the black Escalade came for me, I happened to be clutching a dollar coin in my hand. The System, silent for years, flickered back to life in my mind. Its voice was tinny, laced with a digital sob. I got you a deal! For just one dollar, you can keep living as Stella’s husband. My mind flashed back to last night, to Stella on the balcony. She was at the top of her game now. She didn’t need to chain-smoke her anxieties away anymore. It had to be about Ethan Cole’s engagement. I saw her out there, a lonely silhouette against the LA skyline. “You should go crash the wedding,” I’d teased. She turned, stepping out of the shadows. Her beautiful face, always so cool and distant to the rest of the world, softened for me. Her fingers found the scar on my arm. “You big idiot,” she’d murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. “What crazy things are you thinking?” “That you’ll run off with him,” I said, no filter. Her smile widened, brilliant and blinding. She threw her arms around my neck. “If I left a man like you for him, I’d be the stupidest woman alive. So, don’t leave me tonight, okay?” Stella had been busy. Her new production company was taking off. She was always out late, handling "emergencies." “Deal,” I’d said, forcing a smile so wide it hurt, hoping it would hide the sadness in my eyes. “Even if the studio explodes, I’m not going anywhere.” But I didn’t have any hope. Not really. Not when Ethan Cole was so sure of himself. An Instagram DM had appeared earlier that day, from a burner account. Wanna bet? I snap my fingers, she comes running. I’d replied politely. Who is this? You need me to introduce myself? Come on, charity case. We’ve met. At the group home. In your bed. 2 Those words froze me to the couch. He knew everything. He knew I was the dirty, clumsy kid from the foster system that no one ever wanted. Why are you telling me this? I typed back. I’m just trying to have a relationship here, and your constant neediness is a pain in my ass. Every time there’s a thunderstorm in LA, she has to drop everything and run home to you. It’s nothing personal. I just find it annoying. So, I’m getting rid of the annoyance. I clenched my jaw just as the front door opened. Stella swept in, looking radiant. “Liam, did you miss me?” she asked, her tone so casual, like she was just getting home from a long day at the office. But I saw it. One of the silk ribbons on her dress was torn. And in the photo Ethan had just sent me, I could see the faint flush on her cheek, the look she got when she was… moved. A flash of lightning split the sky outside. Stella’s phone began to buzz incessantly. This was his bet. He wanted me to see, with my own eyes, who she would choose. And deep down, in that old, insecure part of me that never really went away, I knew I would lose. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close. But her body was stiff. “Liam,” she said softly. “Have you ever thought that hiding from your fears isn’t a long-term solution?” I knew what she meant. “The day I pulled you out of that collapsed building, I watched lightning strike my best friend right in front of me.” I was terrified of loud noises, of that raw, natural power that could erase a person in an instant. I only ever had two real friends in the system. One of them was gone. Now, there was only Stella. She turned my face to hers, her gaze intense. “Liam, you need to grow up. The company is at a critical stage. You want me to be free from that horrible studio contract, right? This company is my hope. It’s our future.” I had always supported her, in everything. But for once, I was selfish. “I don’t want you to go,” I whispered. Her phone kept vibrating. A flicker of impatience crossed her features, so fast I might have imagined it. “Just think about it, Liam.” She stood up and started texting. She didn’t know that Ethan was screenshotting everything and sending it to me. Ethan: Not on your way yet? Stella: He’s throwing a tantrum. Ethan: The kid who used to drink out of the toilet at the group home is throwing a tantrum? Wow. Look, Stella, if you can’t make it, it’s fine. I’ll just let my psycho fiancée keep trying to break down the door. She probably won’t actually stab me. This is America, after all. Stella: [Weary emoji] I’ve spoiled him. I’ll teach him to be more independent. Don’t be scared. I’m on my way. She put her phone down just as I finished reading. “I’ll be back to make you your favorite dinner,” she promised. She pulled on her jacket, but paused at the door and came back to plant a light, cool kiss on my forehead. The door clicked shut. Hello, Liam, the System’s voice echoed in my head. I’m sorry we have to meet again. I never seem to bring good news. I wanted to hug it, this strange, sad entity. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It’s not your fault, either, it replied, its voice clear and kind. 3 The next day was my birthday. For the first time ever, Stella wasn’t there. I texted her. Eight hours later, she replied with a photo of herself smiling brightly next to a street sign in Paris. Stella: Paris is beautiful, Liam. When I’m done with this, I’ll take you here. We’ll celebrate your birthday then. I texted back: Okay. But the photo wasn’t from today. Minutes earlier, my friend from TMZ had sent me the video. “Married actress crashes A-lister’s wedding. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen. That snake Ethan Cole didn’t even need to marry that girl—her family’s company just went bankrupt. He did this on purpose, trending on Twitter for weeks about his tragic, arranged marriage. Fucking drama queen.” In the video, Stella and Ethan Cole were kissing, sobbing in each other’s arms, surrounded by a cheering crowd. I’d recognized Ethan the first time I saw him on screen. People are haunted by what they couldn’t have in their youth. For Stella, he was that. One year, a senator’s son came to stay at our group home for a month as a charity project. That was Ethan. Stella, who was usually my shadow, barely spoke to me the entire time. I thought he was just a passing phase. I was wrong. He was the moon she could never reach. And I was just the familiar, boring earth she was stuck on. While Stella was kissing Ethan in front of the world, I was walking down the street, trying to buy myself a birthday cake. When the Escalade mounted the curb and accelerated toward me, I just stood there. I didn’t even move. How can the punishment be happening ahead of schedule? the System asked, confused. “It’s okay,” I told it. “I got to live a lot longer than I was supposed to. I saw some beautiful things.” That day the lightning struck, it hit me, too. I had thrown myself over Stella to protect her. That’s when the System first appeared. It told me to choose one person. If I could make them fall in love with me, I could live. I chose Stella. We’d survived the system together, clinging to each other. It seemed like the safest, most certain path in the world. In this last moment, I realized my mistake. Love isn't that simple. The System tearfully froze time. A moment later, its light pulsed. I got you one last chance. For one dollar. You can keep living as Stella’s husband. But… you will be bound to her, forever. Once, that would have been a temptation. But I had grown up. “No, thanks,” I said. The coin was still in my hand. The ocean was fifty feet away. I arched my arm and threw it as far as I could. Time resumed. The pain of the impact was as searing as the lightning had been all those years ago. Unfortunately, I didn’t die instantly. In the flash of agony, I thought I saw my old friend Maya. The ambulance ride was a blur of siren wails and the suffocating smell of antiseptic. I heard her voice, desperate and sharp, talking to the other paramedics. “Patient is in cardiac arrest, starting chest compressions…” 4 Stella called my phone more than a dozen times. I was in surgery, so I couldn't answer. After the first round of resuscitation, Maya found my phone buzzing on a gurney outside the OR. She answered the latest call. “It’s just a business arrangement, Liam, why can’t you accept that?” Stella’s voice was impatient, angry. “Ethan and I are tied together by our careers now. This isn’t like when we were kids anymore.” She paused, taking a ragged breath. “This isn’t a world where you can solve everything with your fists.” She still remembered me fighting the other kids who called her a bastard, the daughter of a homewrecker. She’d arrived at the home like a princess, a tiny, perfect doll in a frilly dress, stepping out of her billionaire father’s limousine. Then, one day, she was just one of us. Her father's wife had found out about her, and her mother was dead. He’d dumped her in the system to keep her from threatening his legitimate daughter’s inheritance. Was her obsession with Ethan just a longing for the life that was stolen from her? Maya tried to tell her what was happening, but the light above the OR door flashed red again. “Dr. Chen!” a nurse yelled. “Patient’s unresponsive, exhibiting neurological signs, he’s crashing!” Maya dropped the phone and ran back inside. On the other end of the line, Stella heard only silence. “Liam? Why aren’t you saying anything?” She stared at the screen for a long moment, then sighed and hung up. Ethan glanced at her, a smirk on his face. “Giving you the silent treatment? You give a weed too much sunlight, it starts to think it’s a rose.” “He’s—” Stella hesitated. “He’s different.” “So, what do you want? Your career, or a normal life with him? Have you figured that out yet?” Ethan sneered. “Today he’s posting pity-bait about how I’m bullying him. Tomorrow he’ll leak that you’re sleeping with him. It’s the truth, but the public doesn’t care about the truth. To them, you’re just a liar.” Stella stared out the window, a headache blooming behind her eyes. The phone rang again. It was Maya, calling from my number. Stella answered immediately. “Liam, about before, I—” “The night you and Liam signed your marriage certificate,” Maya’s voice cut in, cold and precise. “What was the celestial event?” Stella froze, racking her brain. The voice was familiar. “Maya?” she asked, her own voice turning to ice. “Where’s Liam? Why do you have his phone? Where are you?” Stella had always hated Maya, always been terrified I would choose her instead. Maya ignored the jealous fit. “I’m asking you a question. The night you registered your marriage, what happened in the sky? Please, just answer the question.” “Are you insane, Maya? Why are you asking me that? Doesn’t Liam know? Who the hell do you think you are?” “STELLA!” Maya’s voice cracked with a fury Stella had never heard before. “He and I are just friends, you fucking paranoid bitch! What was the event in the sky?! We’re out of time!” The raw desperation in Maya’s voice stunned her into silence. The night they got their marriage license— I knew Stella wouldn't be able to answer. That night, there was a solar eclipse. A sun in the night sky. But Stella was in London. Ethan had staged a suicide attempt to get her on a plane. When she came back, exhausted and stressed, she had no idea what she’d missed. I’d asked her, “Stella, did you see the sun last night?” She’d just rubbed her tired eyes. “It was raining in London,” she’d said. “Overcast.” An answer that was not an answer. I was talking about LA. She was talking about London. 5 In the final moments of the countdown, Maya wanted to fly across the world and strangle Stella. I was confused. The System had never given second chances before. Maybe it was new at this, not yet immune to human tragedy. It had given Maya the instructions. Call Stella. Ask the question. Thirty seconds. If she answers correctly, Liam lives. No hints. No other questions. Just this. Maya thought it was a sure thing. What woman wouldn't remember the night she got married? Even she knew about the eclipse; it had been all over the news. But Stella wasn’t here. She wasn’t even looking at the same sky. “God damn you, Stella,” Maya whispered into the phone. “I hope you regret this for the rest of your life.” Time’s up, the System announced. Answer incorrect. The phone slipped from Maya’s hand. Through the window of the OR, she saw the head surgeon pull off his mask and shake his head. She heard the long, flat beep of the monitor, a sound that seemed to stretch into eternity. From the phone on the floor, Stella’s tinny voice asked, “Let me talk to Liam.” Maya started to laugh, tears splashing onto the sterile linoleum. “He’s dead,” she said, her voice hollow and calm.
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