Breaking free - Gracie Abrams

002 Miss And Regret

Miss And Regret
002

"this isn't something you just... grow out of, gabriella," he continued, his voice colder than she'd ever heard. "this is permanent. it's the kind of decision that changes everything. do you even realize what you're risking? your future, your career, your entire life—gone. all because of this... phase."

the actress woke up abruptly, trying to steady her breathing as she shook off the remnants of a nightmare that clung to her mind. her head was pounding, the hangover hitting hard. she rubbed her forehead, blinking to adjust to the room—and then realized it wasn't her hotel room. she glanced to the other side and saw sophie asleep on the couch, with charlotte stretched out on the other side of the bed. charlotte's room, she guessed.

moving quickly, she grabbed her things—her shoes, purse—and tiptoed out. once back in her own room, she slipped out of her dress, leaving herself in just her underwear. she headed straight to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and plugged in her phone to play some music, taking an aspirin as she waited for the water to warm up. she caught her reflection in the mirror and let out a sigh—but then her eyes drifted down to her forearm, and she froze, staring at the fresh tattoo etched into her skin.

"what the fuck?!" she whispered, panic rising.

she stared at the tattoo, with a shaky breath, stop the shower and leaning against the counter. she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to piece together last night's hazy fragments, but the memories slipped through her mind like water through her fingers.

charlotte. sophie. the club. the drinks. they'd laughed, stumbled down streets, and ended up... somewhere. she remembered wanting something meaningful, a reminder, something beautiful, but what had she actually gotten? she rubbed her temples, willing the pieces to fall into place, yet every flash of memory was murky and disconnected.

sinking onto the bed with her phone in hand, opening her browser with fingers that felt far too stiff for the simple task. she typed tattoo into the search bar, scrolling through results and trying to match what she saw with what was on her arm. every translation looking a little different. she was getting nowhere.

a sudden dread settled over her as she realized she might have no clue what this actually meant. she moved onto the next search: how to remove a tattoo.

the results were disheartening—laser treatments, pain, multiple sessions. she skimmed through descriptions of recovery, costs, and potential scarring, the mention of "sharp stings" and "burning sensations" making her queasy.

"okay, i'm not doing that," she said.

she closed her phone, dropping it beside her with a sigh as she let her arm rest on her thigh, the skin stinging. so, love and peace—or whatever this actually is—was staying. it's only been hours, she thought, glancing down at her bruised skin. removing it now would be impossible.

then she went back to her phone, taking a picture do the tattoo, fingers tapping impatiently as the image loaded, the spinning circle bothering her. it has to mean love and peace, she thought, reassuring herself. but part of her didn't believe it, not after the foggy blur of last night.

finally, the translation popped up, simple and clear, staring back at her like it was mocking her. gracie.

her breath caught, eyes widening. "oh my god," she whispered, hands flying up to her face as she groaned, sinking into the mattress. this can't be real. she rubbed her temples. gracie. of all things.

she stared at the tattoo again, the letters now taking on a weight she hadn't expected.

the first thing that crossed her mind was calling nate, and she did, pressing his number with shaky fingers. the phone rang four times, each one stretching out as her nerves tightened, until a faint rustling and muffled laughter came through.