The urge to follow the stars hasn’t been weighing on me like it used to. For one thing, I feel the pull much less often here, so my idea of moving somewhere the stars fall less frequently seems to have worked.
But I think it has to do with Ro, too. Even when I do feel the pull, it’s not as urgent. Ro has shared some of his therapist’s techniques and coping skills with me, which help, but he’s also made me question everything I thought I knew.
He thinks I can embrace being a star-chaser, like he’s embracing being a demon. A few months ago I would have denied it was possible, but now… I’m not so sure. I wonder if the star-chaser madness was due to always being alone. Or maybe because we never knew what to do with the stardust when we found it.
It’s not like being a star-chaser comes with an instruction manual.
Ro encourages me to meditate, to let my instincts guide me. I hated it at first, but now I think there might be some magic in it. After every star fall, when we get back home with the stardust—my ancestors’ remains—I let the universe tell me what to do. Most often, I’m inclined to mix the stardust into the earth in a special garden we have along the edge of the tree line. Sometimes I follow the urge to sprinkle it through the trees deep in the forest, or into a river that runs about a mile back.
Everywhere the stardust touches, after being reverently spread or mixed into the earth, beautiful plants grow. Flowers that glow in the dark, thick moss that covers the ground in a protective layer, trees that grow far faster than normal and have strange, hollow centers like they’re meant to house tiny creatures.
I don’t know what to make of it, but it feels right like nothing else ever has. It helps me feel settled, a sense of comfort, like I’m giving myself and my people a protected home where we can always see the sky. A home where we can be together in the only way possible.
Inevitably, my thoughts turn to my mom, and my heart skips a beat when I wonder where she is. Kahlo, perhaps sensing the distressing turn of my thoughts, rises in a languid stretch, then pads over and jumps into my lap. They give me a threatening side eye before kneading my legs and settling into a fluffy cat loaf. I crook a small smile; we’re learning to show our appreciation for each other in more healthy ways now.
I haven’t heard from my mom in many months, longer than normal. I have no way of reaching out to her, as her old phone number is disconnected. I hope she’s okay, and I wish she’d call so I could tell her what I learned. I don’t know if she’d listen, and I don’t know if I’m ready to talk to her yet, but I want her to be okay. I haven’t forgiven her for abandoning me, but I think I might be able to, in time.
I don’t know if my anxiety will ever fully go away, but I already feel less inclined to madness with Ro by my side—or, more accurately, stalking me.
Because yeah, that hasn’t stopped.
Although it tends to be more of a planned stalking these days, rather than whatever unhinged nonsense he was doing back in Chicago. I truly don’t know what I’d do without him. If I’m honest with myself, I know he saved my life.
He’s like a bridge holding all the different parts of me together, turning something I despised and resented about myself into something I look forward to. He’s somehow able to twist the most mundane or uncontrollable moments into joyful memories, and it makes my heart skip a beat for a different reason when I think about our plans to go star-chasing after the rain lets up.
I look down at Kahlo when they start purring, a tiny motor rumbling on top of my legs. Then I glance at Ro, with his bright green nails and glinting piercings. His easy grin and demonic urges. He’s a contradiction I can’t get enough of.
When he first showed me this place, and I expressed my worry about not being able to stay in one spot forever, he made it easy.
“We can always go, and we can always come back.” He said it so simply, so matter of fact, that I had no choice but to accept it as truth. Those words have become my lifeline, my mantra. A consistent reminder of his love, and devotion, and acceptance.
“You want to head out after we eat? Looks like the rain is done for now,” Ro says, his eager voice interrupting my reflections.
I glance outside to see sunlight streaming through the trees.
“Yeah,” I say, turning to narrow my eyes at Ro’s wicked grin. My lips twitch up in an answering smile of my own. “Let’s go.”
Ro
My stomach flips as my heart races with excitement. I’ve been planning this outing for weeks, figuring out how I can make it work with the knowledge that I can’t plan where the stars willfall. It needs to be flexible, but still cover all the bases for safety, and I think I’ve got it.
Lor throws a suspicious look my way as I dump extra food into Kahlo’s bowl, then drop a kiss on their head.
“No parties!” I say, then amend my statement. “Actually, you can party, just don’t wreck the house.”
“We’re not going to be gone that long,” Lor says, eyeing me.
I hum a noncommittal noise as I grab her hand and our go-bags, then skip out the door to our bikes. We take off down the gravel driveway, winding our way through trees and mountains as Lor follows the pull in her blood, and I follow her. My mind wanders as my body sways on autopilot with the movements of my bike, but I can’t contain the grin stretching across my face.
I never expected to create a life like this, one I’d be happy with. Where I like who I am, and have learned to work with my demon urges instead of suppressing them. They’re mostly satisfied by our “stalking” games, plus setting controlled fires when we go camping or stardust hunting.
Lor loves curling up against my warm flames; she claims they feel different than a regular fire. It’s helped me realize I can do good with my urges, that my demonic side doesn’t define who I am as a person, and I don’t have to change who I am to be good. That I can embrace all parts of me equally.
My parents are just pleased I’ve found someone and am happy. I realize now how they were modeling for me all along that being demons isn’t bad, but none of us knew how to handle my inclinations for fire and stealing. They also ask far too many questions about my sex life, and love to give unsolicited advice.
I no longer wish I was a sex demon like them, though, because if that was the case, I wouldn’t have ended up here with Lor. I tighten my hold on the handlebars as excitement floods my veins.
Finally, she pulls off the road into a forest of towering trees. I swear, every time we drive somewhere new, the trees are bigger than the last place. I take in the surroundings, my brain whirring as Lor pulls over and kills the engine, then saunters off into the trees. Her tight black pants look painted on, the curve of her ass making my mouth water in the dappled sunlight as I follow her further into the forest.
