𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗿𝗮𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿.

𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

When I woke up the following day, I felt my eyes were too big for my head. It was challenging to think straight because my brain felt like it had been replaced with cotton balls and needles. It was hard even to recall what had happened the previous night. I could only remember what Conrad told me about his Dad. I could never forget that. Other than that, the whole time was a haze.

"Morning," a sudden and unexpected voice whispered in my ear. This was not happening right now. I swiftly turned my head to discover a shirtless Conrad Fisher lying next to me, his warm frame radiating heat. He was glowing—quite literally.

"What are you? " His hands delicately pressed against my temple interrupted me. This wasn't right. It felt so right, but it wasn't right. My eyes fixed on his. One glance at his shaded eyes told me a lifetime of struggle that had never been put into words. My soft exhale made him search for more. His fingertips brushed down to my lips, and he traced the outline. He began to move his face closer and closer.

"LANA!" A voice bawled. My whole body reset as I flinched at the screech that came from Steven. He was standing at my door, muffin in hand.

"Jesus, get out of bed. It's almost 12." He chortled and left me alone to bask in my disorientation. I held my forehead in my right hand and grazed my temple, recollecting the memories from my delusion. Why did it have to be a dream? It was official. Conrad Fisher had finally gained control over my subconscious. If anything, I was in anguish.. or maybe I was just confused. Either way, this was not a good thing. Last night, he had opened up to me for the first time in a while. My feelings towards Conrad should be the last thing on my mind. But he was all I could think about. I gained the sudden motivation to remove myself from the bed. Taylor must've crashed with Belly because her side of the bed was tidy and not in her usual messy state. One look in the mirror led me to brush my fingers through my tatted hair. Somehow, I managed to make it to the kitchen, where I was met with Laurel, holding her head in her hands.

"Morning", I mumbled. She whined in response. I wasn't the only one who was having a rough morning. I took the time to notice that no decorations were left in the house. There was Nothing left to suggest that there was even a party. Did we pull it off? I poured coffee for both of us and sat beside Laurel at the table.

"You're a godsend." She picks up the hot cup.

"Was the launch party good?" I asked, sipping the smoky beverage.

Laurel opens her eyes fully to look at me. "I can't remember.. was the party fun?"

I felt the coffee catch at the back of my throat. My only reaction was to cough and hold my hand against my chest. "How did you know?"

"I'm not completely oblivious, Lana." She smirks into her drink. We were so dead.

"Did that Cam boy pop the question yet?"

"I've known him for about two days. Give the guy a break." I pressed my hand against my head as it began to throb again. Cam was sweet—really sweet—but I couldn't help but wonder if we would just be better off as friends. My dream was like some wake-up call. I wanted everything I had with Cam, but just not with him.