𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 𖥔 (𝘝𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 x Reader)

• 27

★

"You wouldn't be here without Velvet. She made you."

They whispered, coiled, and tightened their grip, until you could feel them in your chest, in the hollows of your bones...

The baby pink dress draped over your skin like a delicate lie, beautiful in its fragility.

You had once admired the way it shimmered, the crystals catching the light like stars.

Now it felt like something borrowed.

Something that wasn't quite your own.

Your hand rested in your lap, fingers grazing the intricate lace, the way it bunched slightly under the pressure of your touch.

Each breath felt too loud in the confined space, like the limousine was holding its breath too—waiting. Just like you.

Your reflection in the window didn't offer comfort. It didn't even look like you. The face staring back seemed.. distant, barely tethered to reality.

You blinked, but the heaviness in your chest remained, like something was pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

Outside, the noise grew louder—distant, yet sharp, like waves crashing far off but rising, rising, ready to engulf you. The limo slowed, the cheers morphing into a frantic chorus that rattled the glass. Flashes of light punctuated the darkness, invasive, like a warning shot before the storm.

Would I really not be here without her..?

You pressed your fingers against the door handle, the cold metal biting into your skin. A part of you wanted to stay—stay in the safe. Where the world couldn't touch you, where you didn't have to be seen.

But you ended up swallowing your feelings, opening the limousine door and stepping out.

The world outside hit you like a wall of sound, light, and chaos.

The red carpet stretched out beneath you, long and endless. The color of it—deep, almost bleeding—felt wrong under your feet, like stepping onto something alive.

Cameras flashed, capturing you in bursts of harsh white light, and the crowd's cheers turned into a roar, swelling, drowning out every rational thought.

Your body moved, but your mind felt trapped somewhere behind, disconnected. Your foot touched the carpet, and it was as though the ground beneath you was shifting. The air was filled with voices, shouting, screaming, overlapping in a dizzying wave

"Who are you wearing?" "Look this way!" "Smile!"

Each command was a whip crack against your skin, and suddenly, the dress felt suffocating, its lace tightening like a noose.

Your heart slammed in your chest, and the world sped up, spinning too fast for you to keep up. The cameras were too close, the lights too bright, the eyes on you too sharp.

Each step felt heavier, your legs trembling as if the earth beneath your feet was tilting, trying to swallow you whole.

Your vision blurred.