•Social Media Sweethearts•

•Chapter 7: Panic Attack•

Molly Bear: Ben, can we please talk?

*no response*

Molly Bear: I'm really sorry if I went too far

*no response*

Molly Bear: Are you mad at me?

*no response*

Molly Bear: Ben, I need you. Can you please answer?

*no response*

—

Molly barely sleeps that night. Constantly getting up to see if Ben responded or to break out into tears.

And that morning, she wakes up feeling worse than she ever has before. She looks it too, having to wear more concealer than she has ever had to in order to cover her swollen tear strained cheeks and darkness under her eyes from lack of sleep.

Molly tries to stay positive as she gets ready. She wears a pink silk dress and a pink bow in her blonde hair.

She has this adorable clutch and these knee high white socks with pink platforms.

She heads down the stairs to see her mom eating oatmeal on the table.

"Good morning, mama," she says, sitting down across the table.

Her mom looks at her curiously.

"You okay, dear? Ben left in quite a hurry last night," she asks.

Molly bites her tongue.

"Yeah he uh...he threw up and didn't want to get me sick, so he left." She lies.

Molly's mother nods.

"Makes sense. Have any plans today?" Her mother asks.

Molly checks her phone.

—This morning—

Molly Bear: Are you still coming to the makeup convention?

*no response*

Molly Bear: Ben, I need you there. Please respond!

*no response*

—

Molly sighs.

"I'm thinking of going to a makeup convention right now actually-Can you drive me? It's only like 20 minutes away," Molly asks, doing her best to not cry.

"Sure! Let me go throw on a jacket!" Ms. Chapman says.

Molly pouts as she looks at herself in the mirror. She sends a final text to Ben.

—

Molly Bear: I'm assigned dressing room 4. I'll be there before my speech. Morphe asked me to give a speech on the new makeup line while I'm there. If you want to come. I'm sorry again.

*no response*

—

Molly's mother drives her to the makeup convention, the whole while the silence in the car being filled with random country music.

Once there, Molly heads inside and checks in.

She sees a couple mutuals from Instagram, she sees Ash, she sees Vickie LeBlanc even, but it doesn't matter. Not right now.

So, she rushes away to her dressing room back stage and shuts the door behind her.

She tries to take a few deep breaths. But she can't. She looks at herself in the mirror again, the world becoming fuzzy. She can't breathe.

She can't breathe. She clenches at her chest as she slinks against the far wall of the dressing room. The spurts of breath shed an obtain are fast and shallow. She feels like she's about to faint: