𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

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HER LOST

real life












Stevie sat alone in her small, dimly lit studio, the smoke from her cigarette curling up toward the ceiling in soft, lazy spirals. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held it to her lips, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly, watching the haze cloud her view of the scattered notebooks, music sheets, and half-finished songs strewn across the table. The party was over, the apartment now silent except for the faint hum of the city outside. But inside her chest, the echo of Mikey's words reverberated louder than anything else.

She still couldn't fully wrap her head around it. The confession. The truth she hadn't wanted to hear. Mikey doesn't feel that way about me.

Stevie ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head as if to clear the fog settling in her brain, but it was no use. Everything just felt too heavy. The weight of unspoken emotions, of unsaid words, lingered, suffocating her as she sat there, alone with her thoughts.

The door creaked open softly behind her, but she didn't turn. She knew it was Jenna and Orma; they'd stayed behind after the party to help clean up, and she figured they'd come looking for her eventually. She hadn't told them what happened—hadn't even found the strength to say anything to anyone. The only thing keeping her from completely breaking down was the cigarette in her hand.

"Stevie?" Jenna's voice was soft, cautious, as if she was afraid to break through the wall of silence that had surrounded her sister all evening. Orma was quiet, following Jenna inside, the concern in her eyes clear as she glanced at Stevie hunched over on the small couch.

𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌. Mikey MadisonWhere stories live. Discover now