The night started out perfectly.
Chappell had been so excited for you to come with her to this party, practically dragging you out of the door. She'd even put extra effort into her outfit—a bright, shimmering top that caught the light every time she moved, making her look like something out of a dream. Her energy was contagious, and as you walked into the crowded house together, her hand warm in yours, you couldn't help but feel like tonight was going to be a memory you'd keep forever.
But somewhere along the way, things started to unravel.
It began when you saw a few old friends across the room. You gave Chappell's hand a squeeze and promised you'd be back in just a minute. You figured she'd be fine—she always had people around her, people who adored her. She was magnetic, someone everyone naturally gravitated towards.
Minutes slipped by, though, turning into an hour, then longer. You got caught up, laughing and reminiscing, and when you finally realized how much time had passed, you couldn't find Chappell anywhere. Your heart sank. The last thing you remembered was her excited smile as she led you into the party, that hopeful spark in her eyes as if she was looking forward to every second with you.
Panic growing in your chest, you pulled out your phone and shot her a quick text: Where are you?
Almost immediately, three dots appeared, then disappeared. Finally, her response came through: Don't worry about it.
Your stomach twisted with guilt. You found her sitting alone on a couch in the far corner, staring into her drink, her shoulders slouched in a way you rarely saw. She didn't look up when you approached, and that hurt more than you wanted to admit.
"Hey," you said softly, sitting down beside her. "I'm sorry. I lost track of time—"
"Of course you did," she cut you off, her voice low but laced with hurt. Her gaze stayed fixed on her glass, fingers tapping rhythmically on the rim. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"Chappell, come on," you pleaded, reaching out to take her hand, but she pulled it away, crossing her arms instead.
She finally looked up at you, and her eyes—usually bright, mischievous—were clouded with anger and sadness. "You just left me here. You promised you'd stick with me tonight."
"I know, I'm sorry," you said, frustration bubbling up at your own mistake. "I didn't mean to leave you alone. I just... I thought you'd be okay."
She laughed, but there was no humor in it, only bitterness. "That's the problem, isn't it? You just assumed I'd be fine." Her voice cracked a little, betraying the vulnerability beneath her anger. "You didn't even notice how much tonight meant to me."
Her words cut deep. You wanted to defend yourself, to explain that it wasn't intentional, that you hadn't meant to hurt her. But you couldn't deny that you'd made her feel this way, and that stung.
"I wanted to share this night with you," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper now. "But you left me alone. You made me feel like I didn't matter."
Your heart ached. You'd never seen her look so... defeated. "You mean everything to me, Chappell," you said, desperate to fix this, to take away the pain in her eyes. "I messed up. I know I did. Please, can we just... go somewhere quiet and talk?"
For a moment, she hesitated, eyes flickering with the tiniest glimmer of hope. But then, she shook her head, her lips pressing into a sad, bitter smile. "I don't think you understand. You keep saying that, but you never show it. Not really."
Her words felt like a slap, the realization hitting you like a cold wave. She didn't just want words. She wanted to feel like she was your priority, that she was worth more than just fleeting apologies. You'd been so careless, assuming she'd always be there, always forgiving, always patient.
"Chappell, please," you tried, voice shaking. "I'll prove it to you, I swear."
She looked at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before finally whispering, "Then prove it. But tonight... tonight I'm going home alone."
The finality of her words left you frozen, unable to do anything but watch as she stood, grabbing her coat and slipping out of the door. It felt like the room around you blurred, the noise of the party dulling to a distant hum as you realized just how badly you'd hurt her.
As you watched her disappear into the night, you knew that if you really wanted her to believe she meant everything to you, it would take more than apologies. It would take more than words.
For the first time, you realized that if you didn't act now, you could lose her for good. And that was a possibility you didn't think you could bear.
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a/n
im sorry for this being basic ass angst 😔
i cant think of anything 🙏🙏
