Finding My Way

Ghost of Us (Part Two)

Y/N's POV

Chase and I sit across from each other at the dining table, his parents sat on either end. This dinner night was abnormally quiet, no one daring to break the heavy silence between the four of us. The only noise was the occasional ting of a fork on the ceramic plates as someone scoops up some macaroni and cheese to shovel into our mouths.
"I, uh," I start nervously, "I have an announcement to make."
"And what's that, sweetie?" Chase's mom asks sweetly.
I look around the table and realize everyone is looking at me, waiting for my announcement, with their silverware poised mid-air right above their plates.
I take a deep, shaky breath before saying, "I'm moving out. Tomorrow."
Chase's fork clatters on his plate and I nervously meet his wide-eyed gaze.
"You're what?" He breathes out.
"Sweetie, you don't have to do that. We enjoy having you here," his mother says quickly.
"I hope we haven't done anything to make you feel unwelcome here, honey," his dad adds.
"No, no," I shake my head quickly. "You guys have made me feel so welcome here, and I can't thank you enough. With my job, I've been able to save up money to get my own place so you guys have one less mouth to feed and everything. I really appreciate you letting me stay for as long as I have, but I feel like I'm ready to have my own place and not have to depend on anyone else or feel like an inconvenience."
"You've never been an inconvenience, y/n," Tammy reassures me.
I smile gratefully at her, "thank you, I just feel like this is something I have to do. And it's not too far away from here, only about a fifteen minute drive."
"Well, if you need any help moving, Chase and I would be glad to help," Cole says.
"Thank you."
"Y/n, can we talk about this? In private?" Chase speaks up for the first time since my announcement.
"Uh, yeah. Sure." I slowly rise from my seat and follow him upstairs to his bedroom.
As soon as I walk into the room he closes the door behind me.
He stares at me and I stare back, waiting for him to say what he wants to say to me.
He sighs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair before finally saying, "isn't this something you usually talk to your boyfriend about before fully deciding?"
I cross my arms over my chest and scoff, "so when I don't communicate it's a problem?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know what it means, Hudson. I'm not as dumb as you pretend I am." I reply, a little harsher than intended. Instead, I charge ahead, "you've been keeping secrets from me ever since I started working and since then I haven't been able to get on social media." I don't have to say I know he compelled me, it's written all over his face.
"How did you find out?" He asks in disbelief.
"I didn't, but thanks for confirming it," I shake my head at him. "I can't believe you broke that promise to me."
He sighs defeatedly, "it's complicated."
"Then un-complicate it," I demand.
"Are you sure you want that?"
"More than anything."
"I think we should break up," he says bluntly.
I take a step back away from him, "you what?" I never wanted to hear those words again, and it's the first time they're coming from his mouth. Every single time, I did the breaking up. But this? This was a first.
"Why?" I ask in a small voice, not daring to meet his gaze.
"The fans think you're only with me because of some Stockholm syndrome bullshit. That you're with me because I was your only option."
His words sting, and I fight to blink away tears as I turn my back to him.
"So you're doing this because of your fans?" I ask, my bottom lip quivering.
When he hesitates to reply, I know my answer.
"Because that's all you care about, right? How your fans see you. The image you put out into the world."
He sighs and the floor creaks as he moves closer to me, "you know that's not true, y/n."
I scoff, "I don't know that. I don't know anything about you anymore. We used to be best friends, Chase. We never kept secrets from each other." I take a deep breath in hopes of calming myself down, "you've changed."
"And you haven't?" He asks gently.
"At least I can still recognize myself when I look in the mirror," I spit out, channeling my sadness into anger.
I storm past him and open his bedroom door, "move out day is today. I hope you're happy."
I stomp down the stairs and leave, letting my feet take me away from the one person that actually felt like home to me.