The Number One Star in the Interstellar Era [BL]

THE opening scene began with Abby sitting alone in a seaside café, absorbed in a physical book – a rare sight in this futuristic world where everyone used Terminals to read. The regular customers barely noticed her anymore; they’d grown accustomed to her old-fashioned habit.

Outside, the roar of a combustion engine broke the quiet morning – an impossible sound in this age of hover vehicles. A black motorcycle with actual wheels pulled up, ridden by a young man about Abby’s age. He removed his helmet, revealing sweaty black hair and striking features that immediately drew attention from everyone in the café.

As he entered, his eyes scanned the room before landing on Abby’s book. He began walking toward her just as a distracted waiter, staring at the newcomer, tripped and sent a tray of drinks flying directly at Abby’s booth. At the last second, the young man stepped in front of her, taking the full brunt of the spill.

Now dripping with various beverages, he stood before a stunned Abby. Though soaked, he seemed unbothered as he studied her with an expression that was both playful and kind. Abby found herself unexpectedly captivated by this strange boy who had appeared so suddenly in her quiet world.

The sticky mess of iced coffee, fruit smoothie, and whipped cream dripped from Jace’s hair onto the café tiles. Abby stared at the caramel-colored puddle expanding near his boots before snapping to attention.

“I’m Abby,” she blurted out before she could think properly, clutching her book to her chest. “You—you can’t stay like that. I have clothes at my house. Not that they’d fit you, but…” She hesitated, her throat tightening. They were my brother’s. The words lodged themselves behind her teeth. Her grip on the book turned white-knuckled for a second before she forced her voice steady. “They’re just… spares. It’s kind of far, though.” She gestured vaguely northeast, toward the cliffs.

The moment the words left her mouth, Abby regretted them. Why was she inviting a complete stranger to her house? But he had saved her from getting drenched. Returning the favor was only fair—wasn’t it? Even as she reasoned with herself, the logic felt flimsy. Too late now. Taking it back would only make things more awkward.

The other seemed to think the same as he looked at her with confusion and amusement. But as he wiped a glob of whipped cream from his eyebrow and flicked it away, he still introduced himself.

“I’m Jace,” he said. “And ‘far’ won’t be a problem.” He tilted his head outside where his motorcycle waited, its chrome handlebars still gleaming despite the dust.

Jace… so, that’s his name — Abby thought.

When they stepped outside, the sea wind hit Abby’s face, carrying the scent of salt. Jace crouched by his bike’s rear compartment and unearthed a second helmet. He held it out, but Abby hesitated, eyeing the way his fingers left sticky prints on the visor.

“It’s clean.” Which was an obvious lie. He even grinned when she grimaced. “Mostly.”

She took it, the helmet heavier than expected, and fumbled with the straps. Jace swung onto the bike in one fluid motion, kicking the stand up with his heel. The engine snarled to life beneath him.

“Well?” he called over the noise.

Abby bit her lip. The seat looked impossibly small. She lifted one knee, aborted the movement, then finally climbed on, perching precariously at the very edge.

Jace glanced over his shoulder. “You’re gonna fall at the first turn,” he said. Before she could protest, he grabbed her wrists and yanked her forward until her chest pressed against his back. “Hold on here.” He slapped her hands against his waist.

Abby’s entire face burned. She could feel the damp fabric of his shirt, the heat of his skin beneath it.

“Better,” Jace said, and then they were moving, the bike lurching forward so abruptly her arms locked around him in a death grip.

And that was how Abby and Jace first met – the beginning of a friendship between a girl who loved old books and a boy who rode an ancient motorcycle.

***

The next day, Abby spotted the motorcycle first—that antique black thing with actual wheels, parked between two hover-bikes like it owned the place. When she pushed into the café, there he was, slouched in her usual booth like he’d been waiting.

Jace looked up from his Terminal. “Hey. The waiter told me this is your spot. Hope you don’t mind me camping here.” He rubbed his neck. “I’ve been staring at this screen so long my eyes are crossing.”

Abby hesitated before sitting across from him and asking, “What are you working on?”

“Some comparative cultures paper. Had to pick a small town to profile—somewhere with ‘distinct local character.'” He gestured to the café’s window, where Harborview’s fishing boats floated under the orange sky. “Found this place in the archives. Two space warp jumps from the capital, which means…” His voice trailed off for a second before he flashed a grin. “No chance of my dad dropping by unannounced.”

Abby didn’t know what to make of that, so she stayed silent. Though he’d said it playfully, something about the way he mentioned his father felt heavier than his tone suggested.

“Hey, Abby, are you busy this summer?” Jace suddenly asked.

Abby shook her head. “Not really.”

“Then can you be my tour guide? I don’t really know anything about this place, and you’re the only one I know here. If you take me around the place, I have a feeling I could write my paper better.”

When Abby didn’t answer right away, Jace clasped his hands together like he was praying and fixed her with an earnest look. His big, dark eyes blinked rapidly—like a puppy begging for treats. The intensity of his gaze made Abby feel like she was being bombarded by tiny starlights, so bright she almost wanted to shut her eyes.

Abby hesitated, then gave a small nod. Jace’s face then lit up with a smile so bright it sent her pulse skittering—her heart hammered against her ribs like it wanted to escape, traitorous and loud in the quiet café. She immediately looked away, pretending to adjust her sleeve.

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