faded echoes ¦ sk x ks

CHAPTER 26

Just like Ling, Orm had decided to move away from the overwhelming chaos of the industry, though her reasons were layered and more profound. She wasn't taking time for herself; she was retreating from the storm that had surprised her. Since their last conversation, Orm had felt numbness set deep within her, an emptiness that consumed every thought of hers. However, unlike Ling, who took a short time to recharge, Orm found herself taking three full months off-from her career and life altogether. The heavy pressures of the industry, constant stress, and expectations just became too much.

Public glare and glint became her reality when she was finally caught that night, dripping wet, ruffled, and broken. It wasn't the first time she'd felt the sting of the spotlight, but this was different. This time, she didn't even care. She had been so wrapped up in thoughts of Ling, thinking perhaps the silence and space would heal them, would somehow make things right. But the more she thought she could fix it, the worse it became. Ling's absence only heightened her feeling of defeat, and the guilt gnawed at her relentlessly.

She could not help but blame herself for everything that went wrong. She had convinced herself that if she could only find a way to reach Ling, to undo the damage, she could fix it all. But deep down, Orm knew it was never that simple.

In a final attempt to take back some semblance of control, Orm shut down all her social media accounts. Every notification, every message, felt like an intrusion into a life that had spiraled too far out of her grasp. Her mind was a swirling mess, and the chaos of the industry, combined with the pressure to be something she wasn't, pushed her further into isolation.

Her friends in the industry contacted her through Amanda, checking up on her. Her manager, being the professional that she is, would pop by from time to time and update her on the projects she had once been excited about. Her mother was worried beyond measure and called every day, her voice laced with concern. But nothing mattered. The outside world was a blur, and Orm was lost in her thoughts.

The pressure pushed her to such an extent that Orm wasn't even allowed to leave her apartment. The news reports and the photographers camped outside her condo building, changing the world in her eyes to a cage. It was the feeling all too familiar. It was as if she was slumping back. Back to when everything felt a little out of kilter; back to the point when everything started falling apart. She hated the feeling, hated the way it made her feel powerless and trapped in a cycle of hopelessness. It wasn't just the loss of Ling-it was the loss of herself.

Amanda, she was always good-natured and compliant and stayed with Orm. She had witnessed many days when her dear friend was miserable, but the experience this time was different. Orm had absolutely detached herself; her pain could be sensed in every inch of her body, and Amanda helplessly watched her cry herself to sleep night after night. Her heart ached at the miserable state of her friend, yet there was rising frustration within her. She could not keep watching Orm drown in her misery.

One evening, after yet another sleepless night, Amanda finally broke the silence. Orm sat on the couch, eyes vacant, frail body hunched, a mere shell of what Amanda once knew. Her face was pale; her eyes were red and swollen from crying for what seemed to be an eternity; her hair was a tangled mess of neglect. She looked broken-like a lost child. And Amanda could not stand seeing her like that anymore.

"You're hopeless," Amanda said in a sharp tone, cutting into the silence. Orm blinked twice and looked up at her with her eyes, but she saw no flame there; there was only anguish. "I hate seeing you like this. I don't want to see you like that again. What's going on with you? Your life doesn't depend on her, and I want you to know that," Amanda said steadily, unswerving in words.