Finding Us (Interracial Romance)

The Weight of Quiet and Words

Cecilia

It's quiet after my friends leave. Too quiet. I lean against the closed door, my body sinking to the floor, and I let out a sigh that feels like it's been stuck in my chest for days. The air still smells faintly of Sylvia's lavender perfume, Jacqueline's signature vanilla lotion, and Athena's minty chapstick. Their scents linger even though they're gone, leaving behind memories of the way they tried to comfort me. But no amount of soft words or reassuring hugs could take away the chaos swirling inside me.

I reach for my phone on the coffee table, half expecting another text from them, or maybe a new wave of comments on my latest Instagram post: Cecilia Evans announces hiatus to focus on faith and spirituality. It's making waves. The notifications pile up faster than I can read them. Disbelief. Anger. Support. Skepticism. They're all there, an avalanche of opinions from people who think they know me, who feel entitled to every ounce of my energy and my music.

The phone buzzes in my hand, jolting me. I brace myself, heart pounding, before glancing at the screen. It's a call from my manager, Bryce. I brace myself, draw in a shaky breath, and answer.

"Cecilia." Bryce's voice comes through the speaker, clipped and tense. "What's this I'm hearing about you stepping away from music?"

I swallow. "It's true," I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I'm taking a break. A long one."

There's a beat of silence that stretches, suffocates. "You can't be serious," Bryce says finally. "Do you realize what this means for your career? You just won a Grammy. Your momentum is at an all-time high. You've got projects lined up, commitments—"

"I know," I interrupt, my voice cracking. "I know. But I can't do it anymore. Not right now. I need to focus on my faith, on healing. It's...it's what I believe in."

"Cecilia," he sighs, "we have the 'Women in Music' event next month, the LA Film Festival red carpet in April, and your role as a guest judge on Singing Royale set to film in May. Not to mention your single collaboration with Nico planned for the summer." His frustration cuts through the line. "Are you pulling out of everything?"

"Yes," I whisper. "I am."

Another pause, heavier this time. I can hear Bryce mutter something under his breath that I don't catch. "Fine. We'll talk later." The call ends abruptly, leaving me staring at the screen, a fresh wave of dread washing over me. I set the phone down and run my hands through my hair, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

The call ends, but the knot in my stomach only tightens. It's not over. Not yet. Because the phone rings again. This time, it's my parents. The familiar sight of my mom's picture — her wide, warm smile — makes my throat tighten. I pick up, trying to sound stronger than I feel.

"Mija," my mom's voice is soft, yet laced with concern. "We just saw your post. Is it true? Are you really stepping away from music?"

"Yes, Mami." I fight back tears. "I'm really doing it. I need to."

My dad's voice cuts in, gentle and steady. "Ceci, are you okay?"

I close my eyes, the familiar comfort of their voices tugging at the frayed edges of my heart. "I'm...I'm trying to be," I admit. "It's just, everything feels wrong. I feel so lost in the industry. Like it's stealing parts of me and I can't find myself anymore."

My mom's voice softens even more. "Sometimes, stepping away is the bravest thing you can do," she says. "But, mija, please don't isolate yourself too much. You're welcome to come stay with us if you're feeling lonely."

I nod, even though they can't see me. "Thank you," I murmur. "I'll think about it."

"We love you," my dad adds. "And we're proud of you, no matter what."