𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈 everyone knows who she is. Worldwide model, covered in many vogue magazines, walked catwalks, and runaway. But people don't know what happens behind the curtains. Despite the many scandals that have plagued her reputation...
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I stood still, rooted to the spot as their words played over and over in my mind. Minutes passed—ten, twenty—each second pressing down on my chest like a weight. I felt frozen, unable to move, to breathe. Bella's voice echoed in my head, laced with hurt and something else I didn't want to name.
"I don't understand why she doesn't open up to us. Do we not matter?" Chloe's tone was softer, as if she was trying to make sense of something that didn't have an answer.
"We do, but we don't come in the form of a powder she can snort or a pill she can digest, and that will always matter more." Bella's response hit like a punch to the gut, raw and unfiltered.
It was like hearing the truth spoken aloud for the first time, and it hurt more than I expected. My breath hitched, but I didn't move, didn't make a sound. I couldn't bear for them to know I'd heard, to know how much it hurt. Because as much as I wanted to deny it, to scream that they were wrong, a small part of me knew they weren't. And that part of me was the most terrifying of all.
I took a deep, shaky breath, but it didn't help. Cold sweat formed on my forehead, and I could feel it sliding down the side of my face. My chest tightened, like a vise was closing around my lungs, and I could feel the panic starting to creep in. It was slow at first, just a nagging fear in the back of my mind. But then it grew, swelling until it became a wave of terror crashing over me, threatening to drown me.
My hands started to shake, fingers twitching uncontrollably as my heart pounded in my chest, each beat louder and more frantic than the last. I felt like the walls were closing in, the room shrinking around me. My thoughts raced, spinning out of control. I push them away so they don't have to deal with me, so they don't have to see how messed up I really am. I'm trying to protect them. I'm trying to be selfless.
But now, it feels like everything's turned upside down. They think I'm selfish for keeping everything to myself, for not letting them in. But I don't know what else to do. I don't know how to let them in without dragging them down with me.
My breathing gets shorter, quicker, like I can't get enough air. My vision starts to blur, and I can feel myself slipping, losing control. My lungs burn as I gasp for breath, but it feels like no matter how hard I try, I just can't breathe.
I stumble back into Bella's living room, my legs barely holding me up as I move. The room is dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Shadows stretch across the walls, twisting and warping with each shaky step I take. I can barely see where I'm going, my vision still blurred, but I don't care. I just need to find somewhere—anywhere—to hide.
I trip over something and nearly fall, catching myself just in time, but it doesn't stop the panic clawing at my chest. My breath is coming in sharp, ragged gasps, and I feel like I'm suffocating, like the walls are closing in even tighter now.
Finally, I reach a corner of the room, my back hitting the wall as I slide down to the floor. My legs give out completely, and I collapse, curling in on myself as I try to catch my breath. But I can't. My chest heaves, my throat tightens, and I can feel the tears burning in my eyes. I can't stop it—I'm having a panic attack, and it's too much, everything is too much.
