You Belong With Me

Touchdown

The plane touched down with a thud, and I felt the familiar pull of gravity, the weight of my past settling back onto my shoulders. Los Angeles had been my dream—a glittering promise of fame and freedom—but the reality had been far from the fantasy I had envisioned at sixteen. My heart raced as I grabbed my worn duffel bag, the only remnant of my childhood, and stepped into the small airport that once felt like a world away. 

The air was different here, a mix of pine and something sweetly nostalgic. I took a deep breath, the scent wrapping around me like an old quilt. I hadn't realized how much I missed this place—the faded storefronts, the cracked sidewalks, and the way the mountains loomed like protective giants. Everything looked the same yet felt painfully altered, as if my absence had cast a shadow over every corner.

 As I made my way through the terminal,-security right behind me- I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes, judgment and curiosity simmering beneath the surface. My heart thudded with anxiety, a steady reminder of the whirlwind I'd left behind. In L.A., I had learned how to smile through the pain, to play the part of the perfect pop star, but here, in this hometown, I was just Lana. A girl who had chased a dream and stumbled over it. The memories flooded back uninvited: laughter echoing through the halls of middle school, sun-soaked days at the park, and Wes. Always Wes.

 I'd had a crush on him since we were twelve, that innocent kind of love that felt so grand and impossible. I remembered the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, how his smile could erase the worst of days. It had been years since I'd last seen him, but I still felt the echo of that youthful infatuation pulsing in my chest, mingled with the hurt of everything that had followed. I stepped outside, squinting against the bright afternoon sun. The world felt different under this sky, somehow softer. I fumbled for my phone, its screen cracked but still functional. I had messages from old friends, some excited, some curious, others dripping with a hint of jealousy. Fame had its price, and I'd paid it, but what had I really gained? I could hardly recognize the girl I used to be. I had red hair when I was little but as soon as I got to LA they made me dye it blonde.

 As I walked through the small town, the streets seemed to whisper secrets I had long forgotten. Each familiar sight stirred a mixture of joy and longing. I could almost hear Wes's laughter in the distance, feel the warmth of his presence as if it had never left. But how could I face him after everything? My heart twisted at the thought of confronting the memories we'd shared. I paused at the corner of Main Street, where the old diner stood, a place where we had spent countless afternoons, sipping milkshakes and dreaming of the future. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was home, ready to reclaim what I had lost.

 Just then, I spotted a figure leaning against the wall, his silhouette unmistakable against the sunlit backdrop. Wes. I'd recongnize him anywhere. The fluffy brown hair that glowed in the sun, the tan skin, the eyes. Time seemed to freeze as I took a step closer. My heart raced, memories colliding with the present. The boy from my past, the man before me now, was everything I had remembered and more. A rush of emotions surged within me—excitement, fear, and the pang of what could have been. And then, as our eyes met, the world around us faded away.