his cheerleader|| travis kelce

9

Zoe's pov
trav comes in the next morning "cmon to practice with us Bee" sitting on my bed and i shake my head. "you can't hide forever baby. cmon out for some air. your squad is worried too" he tells me his eyes worried. i tell him "i don't want to go like this trav...i wanna stay here...maybe go for a walk in a bit and clear my head" he kisses my hand "i can stay if you need me to baby" i shake my head "every practice is important now trav. your next game is in 10 days" he says "you're what's important" "i'll be fine trav. go to practice...i think being alone right now will do me some good" i say sitting up. he tells me "you don't have to do this alone baby" i don't deserve him. or anyone. they're right.

they're all too good for me. i'm fucked up. if i had drawn a division with trav and wouldn't have pushed colsons jealousy...he wouldn't have cheated. and i wouldn't have kissed trav and let him touch me the way he did and he wouldn't have done what he did. i wouldn't be alone...and i wouldn't be so hated. i'm only gonna fuck up travis and patrick at this rate so distance would be good. i tell him "yes i do" i don't deserve anything else.

he shakes his head "you don't. you deserve all the support in the world baby" i tell him "im fine trav. i'll call you later while you have lunch...and text during the day too okay? go to work" he relents reluctantly. "if you need anything...anything at all...you call me and i will answer and come back to you...no matter how inconvenient you think it may be okay"
i nod and send him a soft smile "i will" and he pecks my lips "i'll see you later baby" i nod and he's gone. he kissed me. i smile and get dressed in sweats and a baggy hoodie of travis' grinning to myself after a shower. the smile wipes off my face as i check my notifications on my phone. a message on instagram

hope you don't eat today you fat whore.

and then another comes through

you should just die everyone would be better off without your slutty ass

a tear falls and doesn't stop. i stand in the mirror and lift my sweater. i pinch at my sides...i could lose a bit of weight i do have a bit of meat on me. i kneel in front of the toilet and shove my fingers down my throat and gag before puking. i breathe heavily at the action and do it again, and again. until i cant anymore. i sigh and stand on the scale...im 15 pounds down from what i was...what if it's not enough? another message comes through

why don't you tie a rope around your throat and kick the chair from under you? better yet slit your wrists and bleed like the pig you are. whore

more tears. a knock sounds at the door and i furrow my eyebrows hearing "delivery!" what? i put on my shoes deciding to just go on a run now and leave my phone behind. clear my head. i open the door seeing a FED EX guy. "can i help you?" i ask confused and he says "you Zoe Mahomes?" i nod "yeah?" he hands me the box "this is for you" i nod confused and sign for it. i set the box on the table and open it seeing a bag of razors and a typed note

USE ME

at that moment every message, every thought, what happened with colson, what he's said in interviews come to mind all at once and doesn't stop. it all just...hurts. i want it to stop and i can't make it. the fans that loved me all want me dead. travis and patrick are probably getting sick of me and want me gone too by this point. maybe they are right. they are better off without me. i don't deserve love, or anything or anyone. i open the bag taking a razor to the bathroom. i roll up my sleeves in a depressed haze. just wanting this pain gone. and i cut. vertically up my arm.

"Bee?" that voice says as i cut the other one and panic rises in me as dots fill my vision my heart beating faster. regret palpable...the pain isn't stopping.

travis' pov
instead of eating at the stadium during practice i decided to bring lunch to the hotel for us. i open the door and see a box is opened. when did we get a package? why? i call "bee?" no answer. curiosity gets the best of me as i set the food and drinks down and look in the box. it's a bag of razors with a sticky note saying

USE ME

she wouldn't...right? i hear fumbling around in the bathroom. "Zoe?" i call worry filling me. white noise. i knock on the door "baby?" all i hear is water and more fumbling around. making me worry even more. please don't tell me she did. who the fuck sent her that anyway? why? i knock frantically "baby open the door." i call to her. the fumbling stops but i hear a loud bang. fuck. i kick the door in and my heart shatters. her wrists are cut open deeply and bleeding profusely. she's passed out on the floor, pale. i run to her sliding to her "baby? baby wake up!" tears falling. "why? zoe! zoe! cmon you gotta wake up!" grabbing towels and wrapping her arms as much as i can to try and stop the bleeding. shaking. crying. god i feel fucking sick. i shouldn't have fucking left her!

i scoop her up and run to my car ignoring the looks i get and how some people take out their phones to record or call for help. i don't give a shit. i drive and make it to the hospital and she's taken from me. her blood on my shirt and hands as i pace anxiously. i shakily call patrick. "yo man you're late for practice you on your way?"

i sniffle "Travis?" he asks softly. i cry choking on a sob and let out "it's Zoe man...she uh...she's in the hospital. St Jude's" "what? man what the hell is going on? i thought she was just okay this morning" he says i hear him run and tell Andy what's going on. "i went to the room for lunch...pat...she cut herself...badly...patrick there was so much blood and" i cry. my heart hurting. "she's okay...right? trav she's okay right? tell me my little sister is okay" he says in disbelief and sadness in his voice. he sniffles and i choke "she was passed out...didn't wake up...i don't know pat...i don't know"