Our different worlds

Not rich enough

The world was collapsing around me, and I wasn't sure if I could keep up. What started as a quiet, beautiful love story between Alex and me had exploded into chaos, and now it felt like I was caught in a storm I couldn't control. The gossip, the rumors, the constant barrage of media and paparazzi-it was all too much. And it wasn't just the public's reaction that had me reeling. It was Alex's situation. Everything that had happened with Rose, the engagement, the contract. The documents that had surfaced, showing that Alex and Rose had signed a pact when he turned twenty to marry. It made everything seem so calculated, so wrong.

I wanted to scream. But I couldn't. Not in front of everyone.

It felt like the whole school had picked sides. Half of them were rallying behind Alex and Rose, claiming that their marriage was meant to be, that they were perfect for each other. The rest of the school seemed to be torn, wondering what it all meant for them, for Alex, for me. I didn't know who I was anymore, or what I was supposed to do in the face of all this madness.

I was just a girl who loved a guy who didn't fit into my world. And now, it seemed that world was closing in on me.

I couldn't bear to be in the cafeteria anymore, where people were talking in hushed whispers about Alex, Rose, and the whole engagement fiasco. I needed to get away, to think, to breathe. The treehouse was the only place where I could find some peace-some kind of sanctuary from the chaos that surrounded me.

I made my way out of the main building, walking quickly past the bustling crowds. It wasn't hard to get away; most people were too focused on the drama with Alex to notice me slipping away. When I reached the familiar path that led to the treehouse, I felt a small sense of relief. But as I reached the door, I froze.

The door was slightly ajar, and faint sobs reached my ears.

I pushed the door open carefully, not wanting to intrude, but the sound of crying was impossible to ignore.

Inside, I saw Charlotte. She was curled up on the bed, her face buried in her knees, crying loudly and uncontrollably, her body trembling with each sob. It was unlike anything I had ever seen from her. Charlotte, the girl who always had a bright smile on her face, the girl who was always so put together, was completely undone.

I hesitated at the door, unsure whether to intrude. Charlotte had always been a bit of an enigma to me, someone who kept her emotions tightly locked away behind a wall of charm and confidence. To see her like this, so broken and vulnerable, was almost surreal. But I couldn't turn away.

I stepped into the room, gently closing the door behind me. Charlotte didn't notice me at first. She just cried, the sound of her distress filling the room.

"Charlotte?" I asked quietly, taking a cautious step forward.

Her head snapped up, and her tear-streaked face looked at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice hoarse. "Go away."

I took another step closer, keeping a respectful distance but unable to just leave her like that. "I'm not going anywhere," I said softly. "You don't have to be alone right now."

Charlotte's face twisted in frustration. "I'm sure it's funny, right? Watching me fall apart. You must be loving this, huh? Seeing the 'perfect' Charlotte cry like some little kid?"

I shook my head, my heart aching for her. "That's not what I'm thinking at all, Charlotte," I said quietly. "I'm worried about you. You don't have to pretend everything's fine all the time."

She let out a bitter laugh, wiping at her eyes roughly, but her hands trembled. "I'm not pretending," she whispered. "I'm broken. You don't get it. I don't even get it."