𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 [peso pluma]

44

fresh out the slammer ; taylor swift
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
0:08─ㅇ────── 3:30

"now pretty baby i'm running back home to you
fresh out the slammer
i know who my first call will be to..."

june 26th, 2023 ; 2:36pm

Celine slept in late the next day, her body and mind completely drained. The sunlight streaming through the curtains was harsh against her still-puffy eyes, a reminder of the storm she'd endured the night before. She groaned softly as she reached for her phone on the bedside table, its cracked screen lighting up with notifications.

Her chest tightened as she scrolled through the messages from friends who had been watching her stream and noticed the abrupt end.

They were checking on her, asking if everything was okay. She sighed, guilt tugging at her chest. She hadn't meant to worry anyone, but she realized that leaving her stream so abruptly had raised questions. After a few moments of reading through the messages, she typed out quick replies, reassuring them she was fine. Then, she opened Instagram and posted a short story.

" Hola mis amores. Siento haber terminado el stream tan repentinamente ayer. Tuve que ocuparme de algunas cosas personales, pero todo está bien ahora. Gracias por su comprensión <3"

[Hi my loves. Sorry for ending the stream so suddenly yesterday! I had to handle some personal things, but everything's okay now. Thanks for understanding <3.]

She posted it and set her phone aside, sinking back into the bed with a deep sigh. But the sense of relief she expected didn't come. Instead, the weight of the previous night settled on her chest like a boulder.

Her eyes drifted to the mess scattered across her room. Clothes were strewn across the floor, and the contents of the box—the photos, letters, and memorabilia from Hassan—lay scattered a top them like a haunting reminder.

Her stomach churned at the sight, and she quickly averted her eyes. She couldn't deal with it. Not now. Maybe later.

Instead, she stayed in bed, pulling the covers tightly around her and queuing up her favorite comfort shows. The hours passed in a blur of familiar dialogue and soft laughter from her laptop, though it did little to quiet her restless thoughts. Her phone buzzed a few more times, but she ignored it, not ready to face anyone yet.