❝SAD BIRDS WILL STILL SING, THE FLOWERS WILL STILL BLOOM, AND THE SUN WILL STILL RISE WITHOUT YOU❞
When an accident left Grayson Reyes in critical condition, he woke up unable to remember the brown-eyed beauty who stayed by his side for three month...
AMBLING DOWN THE STEPS, THE FIRST THING THAT GREETS ME IS THE FAINT SMELL OF ALCOHOL. Overbearing to the point that I hold my breath as I push open the windows to let the heavy scent dissipate. The wooden floors are littered with empty beer cans, half-empty alcohol bottles, and torn-up papers. I feel my mind go blank when I notice the glass table. Stubs of cigarettes in a bowl and leftovers of a powdery mess. My heart is pounding, and I lean on the wall to support myself, swallowing the urge to empty my stomach.
Stumbling, I kneel down, eyes skimming on the several pieces of paper scattered. Searching, I find that it's a termination letter, and it has never been a secret that my father works under Trixie's father. I clench my knuckles, gnawing on the side of my cheek, knowing that this must be my fault. She's getting back at me, but she's going too far. And yet, there's nothing that I can possibly do about it or fix it. My father is blacked-out on the sofa with a permanent frown etched on his features. When I notice a stray tear fall from the corner of his eye, he hastily wipes it and shifts positions. "I'm sorry I let you down, Gracie. I'm a terrible father." He slurs incoherently under his breath, and it takes every last bit of me from yelling at him because he's doing his very best. I know that he's doing his best.
Slowly I back away, slipping up the stairs to grab my laptop and head back down. Placing my laptop on the counter, I prepare an avocado toast with a sunny-side-up on top. After getting my breakfast, I slump down on a bar chair. My fingers tap the marble counter, waiting for the load-up screen. And despite how unhappy my father would be if he found out I was searching for side jobs, I can't help but worry. Browsing through hiring careers, my eyes linger on a few in pet care and waitressing. I decide to send in my resume application, hoping that I get a callback.
Closing down the browser, I type in the website I have been dreading about. My hands are sweaty, shaking, and I feel like I might go into cardiac arrest at any moment. Although the applications have only been open for less than a month, I'm terrified to think I might get rejected. I continuously find myself religiously checking every week. It has become part of my routine. And relief fills me when I see the Julliard application that is still in progress. But it's eating me alive in anticipation.
Exhaling, I don't realize I'm holding my breath. I shut my laptop, scrambling out of my chair to wash up my dishes. After doing so, I peek a glance at my father and begin cleaning up the mess. Tossing it into a black garbage bag, I hang it on the door handle, reminding myself to take it out later.
I hum, ascending the stairs as I change into a pair of grey sweatpants and a matching sweater. Throwing on a warm overcoat, I pack a change of clothes, extra pointe shoes, and a water bottle into the gym bag. Slipping it over my shoulders, my determination swells, and I promise myself that I won't stop practicing until I'm hunching over hurling my guts.
Pulling on my UGG's, I turn to take a wary glance at the unmoving figure once more and stumble out the door, praying that everything will be okay.
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