Forbidden Fruit (Travis Kelce)

I hate Boston

Arianna

I woke up to my phone ringing incessantly. Groggily, I reached over and saw my manager's name flashing on the screen. Something about the urgency of the call made my heart race.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice thick with sleep.

"Arianna, you need to brace yourself," my manager said, their tone grave. "We just got word that some very damaging photos of Travis are about to come out in the news. It's bad."

The words hit me like a freight train. I felt my body go numb, my mind struggling to process what I was hearing. "What do you mean? What photos?"

"Photos of him with another woman. They're... intimate. I'm so sorry, Arianna."

This couldn't be happening. Not Travis. Not the man I loved and trusted more than anything.

"You need to deactivate your social media accounts and avoid engaging with anything online," my manager continued, their voice barely penetrating the fog of shock. "We're here for you, whatever you need."

Numbly, I followed their advice, deactivating my accounts to avoid the impending storm. An hour later, the articles started flooding in. TMZ, Pop Crave, Sports Daily—all of them had the same damning headlines and photos. Photos of Travis with that woman, kissing her in the hallway, lying in bed together.

My stomach churned, and I felt like I might be sick. How could he do this to me? Kayla had warned me, but I refused to believe her. Now, the betrayal cut deeper than I ever thought possible.

I couldn't handle it. I crawled back into bed, the tears coming in relentless waves. I cried until my chest ached, my heart shattered into pieces. At some point, I felt someone climb into bed beside me. I turned to see Brittany, her eyes filled with sympathy and sadness.

She wrapped her arms around me, holding me as I sobbed uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Ari," she whispered, stroking my hair. "I'm here for you."

"I don't know what to do," I managed to choke out. "I want to talk to Travis, but I don't know if I'm strong enough."

"Take your time," Brittany said softly. "You don't have to decide anything right now. Let's get you something to eat."

She left the room to make me some soup, and I was left alone with my thoughts. The pain was unbearable. I felt like my whole world had come crashing down. I hated Boston now. Travis made me hate an entire city.

I reached for my notebook and a pen, needing to channel my feelings into something, anything. Lyrics began to flow, capturing the raw pain I felt.

How'd you make me hate Boston?
It's not its fault that
You don't love me
Had its charm but it lost it
It's not its fault
Just a casualty

How'd you make me hate Boston?
The whole thing is haunted
How do you sleep?
Oh, when you held me hostage
You must be exhausted
Don't you miss me?
And casual's the way you chose to leave
And you're all over every single street

I hate Boston by Renee Rapp 

The words came easily, pouring out of me like a torrent. Each line a testament to the heartbreak Travis had caused. The betrayal felt like a physical wound, deep and unrelenting.

Brittany returned with a bowl of soup, coaxing me to eat a few spoonfuls. "You need to keep your strength up," she said gently. "Just take it one step at a time."

I nodded, grateful for her presence. As I took small sips of the soup, I felt a glimmer of resolve. I didn't know what the future held, but I knew I had to face it. One way or another, I would find a way to heal.

Brittany stayed by my side, a comforting presence in the midst of my turmoil. Together, we navigated the first harrowing hours of what felt like the end of everything I had known and trusted.

As the day wore on, I tried to process everything that had happened. The pain was still raw, but the initial shock was beginning to fade. I knew I couldn't hide forever. At some point, I would have to face the reality of what Travis had done.

But not today. Today, I would take Brittany's advice and focus on myself. On healing. On finding the strength to move forward, no matter how impossible it seemed.

"Thank you, Brittany," I said quietly as we sat together, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

"Anything for you, Ari," she replied, squeezing my hand. "We'll get through this together."

I nodded, hoping that her words would prove true. For now, all I could do was take it one day at a time.

Just as I was beginning to find a semblance of calm, I heard the front door open. My heart skipped a beat, and I knew immediately who it was. Travis.

I braced myself, my body tensing as the reality of the situation crashed over me once again. The man I loved, the man I trusted, was now the source of my deepest pain. I didn't know if I was ready for this conversation, but it seemed I had no choice.

Brittany gave me a reassuring look as I stood up, my legs trembling. "You can do this," she said softly. "I'm right here if you need me."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded and walked toward the living room, every step feeling like a monumental effort. As I turned the corner, I saw Travis standing there, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and desperation.

"Arianna," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I didn't respond, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. This was it. The confrontation I had dreaded and needed all at once.

"Let's talk," I finally managed to say, my voice trembling but resolute. "We need to talk."

And with that, the door to our future—whatever it might hold—began to open.