Love is Lost | Reloaded

10 - The Bad, The Badder, and The Worst

Naya

My eyes were so puffy that it looked like I was involuntarily squinting at the television screen. I was watching the news—well, partially watching it given the marshmallow eyelids. Danica was making breakfast that smelled divine, but I couldn't stomach any food with the way I was dead inside.

No theatrics at all.

Last night was supposed to be the night of my entire life. My entire life was on that stage, and it died the minute everything went to shit.

I still can feel the weight of the paint hitting my head and shoulders, can still see the ghost of the red splotches on my hair and skin even though I scrubbed them off. Sometimes I feel like my footprint leaves a red step the way it did yesterday, like I was at the scene of my own crime. Yet I had nothing to do with it.

I was being framed for someone else's wrongdoings and I was forced to take the blame last night.

When the curtain shrouded the humiliation that was put on display, the same pandemonium that was in the crowd was backstage. People ran back and forth, the majority coming up to my side and asking if I was okay. Or at least I think they did. My ears had only adjusted to the mute sound ringing in my head as I wiped the paint away from my eyes.

I was led back to the main backstage room where everyone was waiting for me. There was literally a seat in the middle of the crowd that I seemed to slice when I walked over and sat in it. People were still around me, asking me things that I paid no mind to while some cursed amongst each other. Probably at me too.

In the midst of it all, my best friend came up by my side, rushing over to me and pushing past the people who were inferior to her. When she got there, my sense of hearing returned and I heard all of her soothing words plus the hubbub that circulated the room, like "Who did this to her!?" or "What the fuck happened!?".

It all zapped me back to reality and the comforting bubble I got from being deaf to the noise was popped. What happened actually happened, and now I was forced to face the music.

Tears pricked my eyes when Danica hugged me, holding me against her because I was so defeated. As if the night couldn't get any worse, Jaxon came up beside me and started unnecessary drama.

"Naya, my god! Are you okay?" He shouted despite the chaos. I had no interest in what he was saying, uninterested in whether or not he was being genuine because I knew I needed people who really mattered to me now. He was, and would never be, that.

He bothered me some more and Danica got in the mix to stop it but he wouldn't have it, claiming that he just wanted to be there for me more than anything. It washed over me like the paint did. He wouldn't stop for some reason other than vanity and pride before it was all stopped by the one person I knew could end it.

He descended upon me like a dark knight, the group of people moving away from his path like the sea did for Moses. I stood up as soon as I saw him, Danica and Jaxon seeing me and following my movements. His steps halted when he stopped in front of me and we just stared at each other.

His face was etched in a cold, worry-filled mask of rage, his deep blue eyes darkening and showcasing nothing but that. He looked like he was barely breathing, standing so still. I had no idea how he even found me but I couldn't care less, knowing I needed him above all. The one person who's gotten me in such a short amount of time.

"Naya" he started, my name an angry whisper on his lips. The noise in the room dulled as I only focused on him. "Who did this?"

His words were casual but the fury of emotion behind them threw that inclination out the window. He looked and sounded like he was plotting, calculating, scheming how to fix this for me, and at that moment, my intuition leaned on the fact that his vengeance would no know bounds.