Kissing Razors | Tony Perry

2) You think i'm pretty?

Sitting on my bed, I find myself staring at his message, my heart skipping a beat every time I read it. Does he truly think I'm pretty? Maybe he sent it to the wrong person? No, that can't be right. He was by my side all day yesterday.

A smile lights up my face as I excitedly scream into my pillow. He actually thinks I'm pretty? I think to myself for the 100th time. I get up and look into the mirror, feeling disappointed as usual with the reflection that stares back at me. The bags under my eyes appear darker than usual because I haven't slept, but I need to leave for the band event in an hour.

I let out a sigh and go to my drawers, picking out a simple baggy shirt, along with loose-fitting pants and some statement necklaces, along with my rings.

As I put on the clothes and glance back at the mirror, I notice the marks on my arm from last night. I had forgotten that I did that. With a heavy sigh, I take off my top and put on a simple long-sleeve one to wear underneath the baggy shirt.

"This will do, I guess," I mutter to myself. I sit at my desk, slipping on my shoes and applying my usual light coat of mascara and lip balm before heading downstairs to the kitchen, where I hear my mom cooking.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Would you like some eggs? We need to leave in about half an hour," she says, checking the time on her phone.

"No, I'm okay. I might walk there today, actually, if that's alright," I say, offering my mom a gentle smile.

"Oh," she responds, raising her eyebrows. "Yes, of course. Whatever you want to do," she says, sending me a soft smile before turning her attention back to the eggs.

Before I have a chance to respond or diffuse the sudden tension, the sound of footsteps reverberates through the house, signalling my dad's arrival. As he descends the stairs, the atmosphere undergoes a palpable shift. My mom's posture stiffens, her once relaxed demeanour replaced by an air of unease. Confusion clouds her eyes as she catches sight of me, still lingering in the living room.

"Well, off you go," she says curtly, her voice laced with a coldness that cuts through the warmth of the moment. Using her hand to shoo me out the door, she gives me a clear message that my presence is no longer welcome. A knot forms in my stomach, a mixture of disappointment and hurt settling within me.

My face instantly drops, and she gives me a slight look of sympathy saying she's sorry.

Without further ado, I swiftly walk out the door, slipping in my earphones. I press shuffle on my playlist, and "Jet Black Heart" by 5 Seconds of Summer begins to play—a song that holds a special place in my heart.

x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x

Walking into the now familiar, spacious room, I find my spot next to the guy I met yesterday, Tony. The room is filled with anticipation and the hum of conversation.

"Hey, you," Tony says, his warm gaze directed towards me as I take my place beside him. His smile is genuine, reaching his eyes, and it instantly puts me at ease.

I return Tony's smile, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. Before any more silence settles in, Zach clears the awkward air with a throat-clearing sound.

"Welcome back for day 2, everyone!," Zach announces energetically, breaking the tension. "Since you already know your groups, you can just get started now if you like," he adds, ending his statement with a friendly smile before making his way into a separate room with his own group.

Tony stands up first, extending his hand towards me. With a hint of hesitation, I reach out and take his hand, feeling a sense of security as he effortlessly lifts me up as though I weigh nothing. His touch provides instant comfort, and he places his hand on my back, guiding me towards the room where we will be working.