Chapter BGM:
"Tadow" – Masego & FKJ
For glances that linger, drinks that tease, and tension smooth as saxophone.
—
"Vodka and Old Memories——some memories burn slower than the vodka that sparked them."
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Downstairs, Soirée had turned wild. Lights flashing. Shots clinking. Laughter too loud to mean anything.
But upstairs—
A different rhythm pulsed.
The Moon Room was quieter. Dimmer. Like memory lit in amber.
Nolan was gone.
"Where's Nolan?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"Upstairs with Jett," someone said. "He heard you were drunk."
"Drunk? Please. I'm fine."
While the crowd played and shouted, Celeste slipped out the side door.
She took the back stairs up.
The Moon Room was quieter. Softer. A warm glow lit the bar where Nolan and Jett sat, clinking glasses. A bottle of imported vodka stood between them.
Jett noticed her first. " Cel! Finally decided to grace us? Want something strong?"
"Only if you're sharing the good stuff," she said, leaning in between them.
"You can have anything. It's vodka from Canada," Jett said, pouring her a glass. Nolan watched her carefully, expression unreadable.
Celeste was already a little tipsy—nothing dramatic, just that gentle flush of warmth in her cheeks and a hint of boldness in her tone. She'd had a few drinks, sure, but the moment she heard it was vodka, her eyes sparkled with interest. Not because she hadn't had good liquor before, but because… it was Nolan who brought it.
She narrowed her eyes playfully, lips curving into a pout. "Something sweet, please," she said, turning to the bartender. "Can you make me a Long Island Iced Tea with this vodka? Thanks."
Jett raised his brows with a grin. "Damn, Miss Celeste's going straight for the heavy hitters now."
A few more drinks in, Jett was all loosened up, his usual sharp tone mellowed by alcohol. He started rambling stories from when he and Celeste were kids, lounging in his seat with a lazy arm slung over the backrest, swirling his drink like he owned the night.
"You know," he said, voice drawling, "the year she was born, my mom made me hold her. I was barely walking—just a wobbling little mess."
Celeste cut in fast, mock-glaring. "No, no, no—tell it right. Your parents brought in that fortune-teller who said I was born with open palms—'hands that attract wealth and blessings' or something like that. You holding me meant—"
"Boom. Jackpot." Jett laughed. "The family accounts blew up that year. Money pouring in like rain."
He leaned forward, glass catching the light. "You know what this lounge is called? Moon Room. Not a coincidence—your name has 'moon' in it."
Celeste rolled her eyes. "Oh please. It's because the roof opens on clear nights. You can literally see the stars. And by the way—remember to give me equity."
She shot Nolan a look, as if to say don't believe a word of this. But Nolan just smiled quietly, eyes never leaving her.
"She used to beg to ride horses," Jett went on. "But she was too little, so she treated the dogs like ponies."
Nolan listened intently. He'd never seen this version of her before—not the poised "Boss Cel" or the polished socialite—but a muddy-kneed little girl with wild eyes and a loud laugh.
"And didn't she stab a hole in the wall once? With the sword?" Nolan asked.
Celeste laughed, half flustered, half dramatic: "Okay wow, are we really doing the roast-Celeste hour tonight? I swear, I was a very cool child."
"We could," Jett teased. "I have enough material for a whole press conference."
Celeste rolled her eyes dramatically. "Changing the topic. Did you at least send Leah a breakup gift?"
"Probably. LV? Dior? Whatever she picked out herself." Jett rubbed at his temples like he was already regretting bringing it up.
Celeste raised her brows. "Wrong choice, clearly. She was still stirring things up with Muriel just now. I nearly grabbed her by the hair—"
Nolan leaned back in his seat, nursing the last of his drink. Celeste caught his eye and gave a playful sigh.
"Jett, I surrender. You deal with this." She nudged her half-full glass toward Nolan—with just enough pressure to make it clear who she wanted to finish it.
Her eyes were a little glazed from the alcohol, but her smirk was sharp. "But seriously—whatever bottle you brought tonight? Not bad."
Jett raised his eyebrows. "Ohhh?" His gaze bounced between them, catching on Celeste's smile like he knew something was up.
She didn't say "Drink it."
She didn't have to.
That half-empty glass already knew who it belonged to.
Nolan picked up the glass, gaze still fixed on her. His voice dropped to something soft.
"Didn't you say… if I behaved tonight, I'd get another sip?"
Then, without waiting for a reply, he took her glass.
He raised the glass slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
And drank.
Jett nearly choked on his own laughter. "Dude—okay then."
Celeste froze. Just for a beat.Then her eyes flicked away, lashes lowering, hiding the smile already tugging at her lips.Her heart did something weird—like skipped and sped up at the same time.
She used to think being into someone meant growing up side-by-side. Like with Jett—years of teasing, fights, inside jokes, shared wins and bruises. That kind of closeness.
But this—this was different.This was quiet. Unexpected.The way Nolan lowered his gaze, the ease with which he reached for her drink—like there was nothing strange about it.Like it was just them.
She glanced back at him.
His eyes hadn't moved.
There was something about the way he looked at her. Steady. Unshaken. Like he wasn't just seeing her in this moment—but had already figured out what she meant to him.
Too many boys liked her. She never really cared.
But for the first time, she found herself wondering: Was this just another passing crush?
Or was it something that might stay?
She picked up her own drink and took a small sip, her voice light as she joked,"Good stuff. But pace yourself, hmm? Don't get greedy."
A joke, sure.But even she could hear the nervous flutter behind it.
There were games you played at bars.
And then—
There were games that played you.
Outside, snow kept falling. Inside, the room was golden and slow, steeped in laughter and vodka and something neither of them could quite name yet.
Was it just a drink… or something more?
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If Nolan made your heart skip a beat, vote, comment, or tag a friend who needs to meet their own "Moon Room" moment. 🌙✨