Silver Lining ❥ daerin

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔 - 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

𝕮𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆

The sound of the engine faded behind me as I pulled into the driveway, cutting the power to the Pagani. The once-familiar rumble of the car that had always made me feel alive now left me feeling hollow, like I was driving someone else's dream.

I stared at the house for a long moment, my fingers still gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white from the tension. The practice session had gone horribly, worse than I could have imagined, and it felt like every part of me was unraveling. I killed the engine, but I couldn't bring myself to get out just yet.

I leaned my head back against the seat, eyes closed, willing the tightness in my chest to go away. But it wouldn't. Everything felt too heavy—too real.

The crash, the fear, the uncertainty that seemed to cling to me like a second skin. I wasn't supposed to feel like this. I was Calista Avellino, the girl who took risks, who didn't flinch in the face of danger.

But that girl... she felt like a stranger now.

With a deep breath, I forced myself to move, stepping out of the car and into the fading daylight. The house loomed ahead, quiet and empty. My parents were still at work, as they usually were at this time of day.

I felt a brief flicker of relief at the thought of being alone. I wasn't sure if I could face anyone right now. Especially them. I walked through the front door, the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the walls. The house felt cavernous in its silence, amplifying the ache in my chest. I kicked off my shoes, leaving them abandoned by the door, and headed down the hallway.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of everything pressing down on me. At the end of the hall was my dad's study. The door was closed, as it always was when he wasn't home, but I knew what was behind it. I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the door handle, but the need to escape—to numb the pain—was stronger than my hesitation.

I pushed the door open.The study was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to keep the room cool. My dad's desk sat in the centre, papers and folders scattered across it, and on the shelf behind it, tucked away neatly, was the liquor cabinet. I'd never had much reason to go near it before. My dad's collection of expensive whiskey, brandy, and vodka was something I knew was off-limits, but today, I didn't care.I moved quietly, almost as if sneaking around would make it easier to forget how low I'd fallen.

My fingers traced the polished wood of the cabinet before I opened it, revealing rows of bottles, each more enticing than the last. I grabbed the first one my hand touched—a bottle of whiskey—and pulled it out, setting it on the desk.With shaky hands, I twisted off the cap and poured a generous amount into a glass. The amber liquid shimmered in the low light, and for a second, I hesitated. But then the memory of the track—the failure, the fear—rushed back, and I tipped the glass back, letting the burn of the alcohol fill my throat.

It was warm, almost comforting in the way it dulled everything, if only for a moment. I poured another, and then another, each sip blurring the edges of my thoughts until they no longer hurt as much.

I slumped into my dad's chair, the glass clutched in my hand, staring blankly at the wall. Who was I anymore?

The crash had stripped away everything I thought I was. The fearless racer. The one who didn't back down. But now I was... fragile. That word kept clawing at me, digging its way into my brain like a poison I couldn't escape. I drank more, letting the haze settle in.

The whiskey dulled the pain, but it couldn't erase it. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew this wasn't the answer. But I was tired of feeling everything. I just wanted it to stop for a while. Time passed in a blur—minutes, maybe hours. I wasn't sure anymore.