𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝙼𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 (Complete)

𝙷𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚎

Eyes.

All I see are haunted eyes. All staring daggers through me.

The song dies away and suddenly everyone's focus is on me.

Their thoughts, are on me.

The spotlight, is on me.

Everything is...on me.

The pressure and expectation of those hundreds of thousands of eyes are like a tsunami. I can't handle it. It's too much.

I finally manage to break free from their mental hold, and I dash across the stage. I jump into the sea of people, silently begging for them to move out of the way. A gap appears, and I land on the hard floor. My eyes lock on a new target: the large pair of doors at the back of the auditorium. I bolt towards them, tears breaking free from where I had tried to keep them locked away. I swipe at them desperately and my eyes squeeze shut, pushing the salty liquid out and allowing them to trickle down my face. They burn like fire as they drip from my chin.

Ten more feet.

Seven more feet.

Four.

Two.

Step.

Step.

I push against the large doors and they swing open with great force. They hit the wall and bounce back, but I'm already far away, running wherever my legs will take me. I barely manage to see through the bars of my hair to avoid the street. I swerve away from it and stick to the sidewalk, trying my best to look as non-suspicious as possible.

I totally fail.

I see a patch of green appear in sight further down the road. It becomes my new goal and my legs set in motion towards it.

The large field is dotted with enough trees to hide me from the world. I race towards one at the furthest point and throw my back against it, a new set of sobs racking my body.

Why did I do that?

What did I even do...?

I was only half-conscious of my actions, and they feel fuzzy in my mind. I squeeze my eyes even tighter and let out a sudden scream. "Why?! Why did I let her get to me again?!" My hands turn into fists. "Why did I...Why..." My voice softens, and I slide down the side of the tree, ignoring the sharp bark stabbing into my back. "I feel so dumb and so..." I pause. "Well, embarrassed. Oh my gosh, did I really just do that?!" I picture the judging crowd, people with their phones all directed at me, whispers flying through the room from friends to friends, strangers to strangers. I stare down at my shaking hands harshly questioning myself in my mind, 'Why did you think that for a second, you could be happy standing on that stage? That all those people could be enjoying something you were a part of?'

"Dumb," I whisper. "That's what I am."

I use my sleeve to wipe at the stinging tears. Luckily, none follow behind.

I'm about to start walking home when the walkie-talkie strapped to my belt crackles to life. "Eyes on Paris? Does anyone have eyes on Paris? Send her 20 if you see her. I'm really worried."

Lucas.

I'm about to reply and say something like, 'I'm here!' or 'I'm okay!', but my words die on my lips.

Isn't this all partly his fault?

He called me on that stage. And for what reason? So I could sing with him?

Why did I ever agree to it?

I grab the walkie-talkie into the palm of my hand and throw it with all my might. I don't watch it long enough to see where it lands. I just run back to the sidewalk and don't stop running until I reach home.

———————

"Ugh," I groan into my pillow for the millionth time. An empty bag of chips lies beside me.

What? Never heard of a girl eating her heart out? We didn't have any ice cream so I opted for the next best thing.

The house is eerily quiet and sends shivers down my spine every time it creaks. I know it isn't anything ominous, but it still distracts me from the events earlier.

Suddenly my phone beeps. I sit up and look over at the glowing pocket of my jacket draped across my desk chair. I reach my hand forward lazily, wishing I could somehow make it float towards me. But, of course, nothing happens, and I have to get up and grab it myself.

As I flip it over, I see a long line of messages lighting up my screen.

Right. I had turned off my notifications until eight. It must have just turned back on.

The bottom ones are mostly asking if I'm alright from Lucas, Lillian, and Justin, but the last few catch my eye.

Paris, where are you?

Paris, please answer. You're scaring us.

Are you okay? What happened?

I stop, my eyes locking on the last message.

...Did you see the video?

Lucas had sent it ten minutes ago.

Video? What video? What is he talking about?

I swiftly type in my password and check Messages. Bouncing dots appear beside 'Second biggest dumb head in the world'. Then the message appears.

It's going viral. Paris, please answer.