Heartstrings and Secrets

Lost & Found

The storm loomed heavy above, mirroring the chaos inside me. My hands trembled as I gripped the wheel, tears spilling no matter how hard I tried to stop them. His words echoed relentlessly:

"It didn't mean anything." But the image of him with someone else couldn't be erased.

I didn't know where I was going, just driving aimlessly, trying to outrun the suffocating weight in my chest. When Teagen's name lit up on my phone, it felt like a lifeline. I reached for it, desperate for her voice, but in an instant, everything spiraled.

The car veered, tires screaming against the slick road. Panic consumed me as I fought for control, but it was useless. The car lurched to a violent halt, leaving me frozen in the aftermath. The neon lights of a bar blinked mockingly through the darkness, piercing the void inside me.

I stared at them, unable to move, the ache in my chest growing unbearable. I wanted to scream, to break something—anything to dull the pain. But I just sat there, trapped by grief and the crushing emptiness of everything I'd lost.

The storm hammered against the car windows as I sat, gripping the wheel, my breath hitching. Teagen's name flashed on the screen again. My hands trembled as I answered.

"Teagen..." My voice cracked.

"Lila? Where are you? What's going on?" she asked, her tone urgent but steady.

"I..." My throat tightened. "I don't know. I'm just driving. I couldn't stay. He—he said it didn't mean anything." The words felt jagged, cutting me from the inside.

Teagen's voice softened. "Pull over, okay? Just stop the car. You're not okay."

"I'm not okay," I admitted, tears spilling again.

"I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to figure it out right now," she said firmly.

"Just stop driving. Tell me where you are, and I'll come get you."

I hesitated, glancing out the window. The neon lights of a bar blinked in the distance.

"There's—"

The call ended abruptly, leaving a hollow, suffocating silence in its wake. Teagen didn't pick up, and for a long moment, I just stared at the screen, willing it to light up again. Some sign, some reassurance that I wasn't alone in this mess. But there was nothing. Just the trembling of my hand and the crushing weight of betrayal.

I needed to breathe. Or maybe I needed to stop breathing altogether. I didn't know anymore. The bar door swung open with a groan, and I stepped inside. The music hit me first, loud and jarring, followed by the sticky warmth of too many bodies packed into a too-small space. The air was heavy with sweat, alcohol, and stale cigarette smoke. My stomach churned, but I kept moving.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for—distraction, maybe? Something strong enough to drown out his face, his voice, the memory of his smug, guiltless confession. He cheated on me. The thought burned like acid, sharp and corrosive, eating away at the last shreds of my composure.

The bartender barely looked at me as I slid onto a stool, the cool wood grounding me just enough to speak.

"Whiskey. Neat."

He nodded, uninterested, and set the glass down with a thunk. I didn't hesitate. The burn of the liquor was immediate, cutting through the haze in my head and leaving a bitter heat in its wake. It wasn't enough to numb me, not even close, but it dulled the edges just enough to keep me from falling apart.

The bass of the music thumped through my body, vibrating in my chest. I stared at the empty glass for a moment before setting it down. The air was thick, the room spinning slightly, and I felt a pull I couldn't explain. The stage in the center of the room seemed to glow under the harsh spotlight, a siren call of movement and noise.