FORCED MARRIAGE | Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

13

Sometimes bad choices become good ones, and good ones become bad ones. -Y/N

For hours on end, I scoured the streets in search of Jenna. Every shop, every restaurant, every obscure corner of this city was meticulously combed, yet she remained elusive. A pang of emptiness and guilt gnawed at my insides, far beyond mere hunger.

Once more, I shattered her trust. Acting impulsively, heedless of her sensitivity, I let my own foolishness, stubbornness, and paranoia reign supreme. I subjected her to mistreatment, once again reducing her to mere objectification. The turmoil in my mind bewilders me; the cycle of self-loathing repeats endlessly. Here I sit now, back in the hotel room, consumed by remorse.

All I can do is wait, hope against hope for Jenna's return. I ache to hold her close, to offer sincere apologies for my egregious behavior. Glancing at my phone, the clock reads 1:44 PM. With a heavy heart, I open Safari and search for "Jenna Ortega actress." A plethora of movies and photographs flood the screen, each showcasing her radiant beauty. Familiar faces—Tyler, Emma, Joy—only amplify the ache within me, a testament to Jenna's captivating smile. She appears to thrive in her career, surrounded by friends and passion. I save a few images, then retrieve my earphones from my jacket, seeking solace in music.

"Watch out ! I'm jumping."

Damn, I drifted off. I nodded off while Jenna ventured out with a stranger in an unfamiliar town. I feel terrible. I've been a real jerk.

"I really want a dick or pussy, or both," an unfamiliar voice declares. "I think I'm going to get laid."

I suddenly notice a blonde-haired girl on the sofa, the same sofa where Jenna and I had our moment. I rise and approach her. She's on the phone but glances at me. She has blue eyes, delicate lips, and she's... stunning.

"Hold on, my love, there's a hottie next to me. I'll call you back later," she says huskily.

She's clearly intoxicated. Is she the girl Jenna went out with? What time is it?

"Um, who are you?" I inquire.

With a smile, she responds, "Cara, Cara Delevingne."

She's really intoxicated. Where's Jenna? I need to get this girl out of here. Jenna must have brought her here. I sigh, grab some cookies from a cupboard.

"Here, eat this. It might help sober you up," I offer. She takes the Oreo packet and starts munching.

"Cara, let's go to another room."

And then I hear her voice behind me, and my heart skips a beat. She's here, and her voice sounds huskier than usual. She's drunk, probably, but I don't care because all that matters is that she's here with me.

"Jenna, my god, I've been looking for you all day," I say as I walk towards her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

I approach her with open arms for a hug, but she pushes me away and slaps me. Is she out of her mind? Even though the pain is minimal, nobody has ever laid hands on me before. I know I've messed up, but I don't deserve to be hit.

"Damn, you're completely out of control!" I touch my cheek.

Her eyes well up with tears again, but this time, I see hatred. I see hatred in her eyes, and it terrifies me because I think Jenna hates me now. I don't want her to hate me.

"You treated me like shit!" she screams. "You used me!" Tears stream down her bloodshot eyes.

My heart shatters. I understand why she says that because it's true. It hurts so much that I feel like vomiting. I approach her, taking her wrists just like she did to me at the mall. She's smaller than me, but it seems she doesn't care because she doesn't resist.