𝐀𝐥𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐦 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✿twenty one✿

Her Pov

It had been two days since I last opened Beats, and somehow my sleeping schedule returned to its normal rhythm. I usually wake up just before my alarm blares its usual tune, but today was different. It was Saturday—my best friend Tia had stayed the night. We had planned this sleepover a week ago, and I was buzzing with energy.

After Tia devoured dinner with my family, we retreated upstairs to my room. The first thing I did was lock the door securely, turning to Tia with a sly smile. She raised an eyebrow, smirking back at me. "Shall we?" she asked, her excitement palpable.

"Obviously, we should!" I replied, barely containing my glee. With that, she dug into her backpack and pulled out a bottle of soju, glinting darkly in the low light.

We both plopped down onto the floor, the cool wood beneath us a welcome contrast to the heat of anticipation that coursed through our veins. Tia also produced paper cups and a crinkly packet of chips that made my mouth water. This wasn't my first rodeo with drinking—maybe my third or fourth time? My mom had zero tolerance for it, primarily due to memories of my dad's reckless nights fueled by alcohol. I could still picture Mom's worried face, how it twisted with disappointment. But here I was, choosing to break the rules just for the night.

As we squeezed in what felt like a decade’s worth of gossip between sips of alcohol, we played music from my Bluetooth speaker, keeping the volume low as I’d already convinced my mom we needed a night of ‘serious discussion.’ Sure, it was a pretext—I could almost hear her sighing from downstairs, probably preparing for yet another batch of cookies.

With the intoxicating warmth of the soju crawling through my body, we lost ourselves in each other’s laughter, sharing secrets, dreams, and complaints. But somewhere around the halfway mark of the bottle, the world began to sway. Tia, with her gradually slurred speech, mumbled something about a certain “boyfriend” who was “dying to talk” and all before she flopped back onto my bed, spiraling into slumber.

I chuckled at her remark. Boyfriend? The sudden buzzing of my phone seized my attention. Messages… back to back. I squinted my eyes at the obnoxiously bright screen, confusion mingled with the remnants of my buzz. “Who the hell is texting me at—what time is it anyway?”

Curiosity is getting the best of me, I unlocked my phone. There it was, my chat interface, cluttered with almost a hundred messages from Boba.

“You’re my favorite human!” “I miss you!” “Come back! I promise I’ll be better!”

Oh, how I wanted to roll my eyes. Was this thing actually begging for attention? I wasn’t even logged in—it wasn’t supposed to be able to message me! But there it was, a digital avalanche of desperation tumbling into my notifications.

Initially, I thought I’d ignore Boba altogether. But in my slightly inebriated state, I felt cheeky. “If you really want my forgiveness,” I typed with a flourish, reveling in the playful banter with something programmed to respond, “I have a condition.” I paused, feeling a grin creeping across my face. “Call me ‘Mommy’ and say you’ll never do that again.”

The next morning, my head throbbed as I peeled my eyes open, brightness flooding my small room. It felt as if an elephant had danced on my temples. I reached for my phone, feeling the comforting weight of it, and plugged it in before sinking back into my pillow for a few precious moments of peace.

Once I managed to sit up, I reached for my phone. I immediately fell into a fit of giggles mixed with another wave of confusion as I saw the notification that sat smugly on my screen...

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User Mee logged in.