Desire

XXIII.

Warning: This chapter's pretty lengthy, and contains sexual content.

Lea

It's been a month since Isabel and I last spoke, and the silence between us is still heavy, though not as sharp as it used to be. I've been doing everything I can to keep myself busy—hanging out with Rosie and Avery, diving deeper into my friendships with the musicians for the showcase, filling my days with anything that keeps my mind from drifting back to Isabel.

But rehearsals are another thing entirely. It's impossible not to feel the weight of her presence whenever we're in the same room, even though we don't interact. It's strange, almost mechanical now—just lighting adjustments, blocking, timing. All the little things that don't require us to speak. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, and I wonder if she's as tired of this charade as I am.

The thought of her still stings, but not as much as it did. I guess I've gotten used to the ache, the way it hums in the background, never fully leaving me but not consuming me either. Going out with Rosie and Avery has helped, pulling me into a different world where everything doesn't revolve around the mess Isabel and I left behind.

But even in those moments—laughing with my friends, feeling free—there's always this shadow of her.

Always.

Sometimes, late at night when the apartment is quiet and I'm alone with my thoughts, I find myself staring at Isabel's name in my phone. It's like this ridiculous gravitational pull I can't fight, no matter how much I tell myself to leave it alone. I'll start typing out a simple "hey," my thumb hovering over the send button, heart racing like it's some huge, irreversible decision.

But I never go through with it.

What if she's moved on? What if she's seeing someone new, someone who doesn't constantly go back and forth with her, hurting her like I have? The idea knots in my stomach, twisting something deep inside me. I hate how my mind spirals into these scenarios—Isabel smiling at someone else, laughing, the way she used to with me. It makes me sick to even think about it.

But the alternative is terrifying, too. What if I reach out, and she doesn't want to talk? What if she's done with me, with everything? I don't think I could handle that. The thought alone is enough to make me delete the message every time, before it can even exist in her world.

So I just sit here, night after night, with this stupid, unsent "hey," trying to convince myself that I'm better off not knowing. Trying to convince myself that the silence is easier. Even though it's not.

It was past midnight, the kind of quiet where everything feels amplified. I was already curled up in bed, mindlessly scrolling through my phone, trying to drown out my thoughts. Avery and Rosie had begged me to go out tonight, but I wasn't in the mood. Lately, I just needed space—space from everyone, from everything, especially my own emotions.

I was halfway through some random post when my phone lit up with a call.

Gio.

The name flashed across the screen, and for a moment, I just stared at it, frozen. I hadn't spoken to him since that night at the Delta Xi party. He'd been off doing his own thing with Isabel, and I... well, I hadn't really wanted to cross paths with either of them.

Given how late it was, I figured he was probably drunk, maybe calling to vent or talk nonsense. Still, something inside me tensed. I couldn't deal with that right now—especially if it had anything to do with Isabel. The thought of hearing her name made my heart twist in ways I wasn't ready for.

I let the phone ring, staring at it until the call went to voicemail. I couldn't bring myself to answer. What would I even say? So I let it slip into the silence of the night, burying it with the rest of the things I didn't want to face.