Olivia sat on her bed, staring up at the white ceiling, filled with neon stars from her childhood, still shining beneath layers of white paint.

She had known this boy for almost her entire life.

If he would have liked her, he would have already.

He would have, for sure, when they were twelve and she confessed to him in Visual Arts class... a confession she later covered up as a joke.

Or maybe when they were juniors, after deluding herself once again. She had tried to tell him how she felt. He had laughed, telling her to stop joking.

It was hard to tell if her feelings were a joking matter for him, or he simply thought they were so alike that their brain synapses had fused into one.

Very friendly.

Extremely close.

But Olivia did not want to disappear.

She was her own person, with real, and big feelings to express. 

And well, that was Serina's role in this story.

To be heard, and to shine a light on the perfect shadows she cast.

Serina didn't have to be perfect. She was herself, and that was why Olivia didn't hate her.

Olivia might have envied her, but they were fundamentally different.

Olivia was a footnote on Miller's life.

A possible invite to his wedding.

An instagram story he would watch.

Someone he might meet at the supermarket.

She was his life until he met Serina.

And if all the novels Olivia read were right, Serina would be the rest of it.

Serina was the one star that escaped being covered by paint.

Even Olivia was surprised by how bright it was.

Miles must have been fascinated.

As for Olivia she was a common star, painted over and over again to make the ceiling smooth.