The floor is cold, a chilled breeze floats through the window left ajar. But my muscles burn with movement, sending heatwaves bounding over my skin. Here I sit, one leg by my side and the other outstretched, my same-side hand pulling at my toes. And it fucking hurts.

“I thought the cooldown was supposed to be relaxing,” I let out a bubble of breath as I switch legs.

Cindy stands a few feet in front of me, one arm pushed over and behind her head. “This is relaxing. You’ll feel it when we’re done.”

“I wish. I’ll need like a month in solitude to be relaxed again. And it’s Isaac’s birthday in a few weeks, anyone who knows of me now knows it too. At least I won’t forget it.” I stay put on the floor, too tired to get up, and move onto arm stretches, “Oh and text threads started popping up about ‘Birthday Surprises’ already. I thought a large number of my fanbase were underage teens – the shit that gets made is concerning.”

“When’s your dad picking you up? Please don’t tell me he’s stuck in traffic.” Cindy grabs her bottle, cooled in front of the window, and takes sips of revival.

My eyebrows raise, confused, “My dad? Oh!.. Oh. He’s my manager.”

“God knows you need it.”

“Hey! That’s not very professional of you.” I cross my arms, still on the floor, a pout pulling at my dry lips.

“I’m surprised someone didn’t expose you sooner after you told me your entire life story during this one class, unprompted. At least I don’t have to worry about your stamina.”

I finally drag myself up and seize my own sunset water bottle, drinking the last inch of water like I’d never tasted something so refreshing before. Nothing makes you appreciate water more than exhaustion. Hydrate, kids. “Do you want Fahim here because I’m annoying, or so you can flirt with him again?”

She gives me a look. Her mouth frowns but her eyes sparkle, like she’s trying not to smile at me. There’s something mischievous about it. “Maybe a bit of both. A lot of the first one.”

She finally breaks and grins at my offended, open-mouthed expression. But I also can’t fight away a laugh.

Cidy closes the window, grabbing her pale blue cardigan from a low hanging peg, “I guess, though, I should be thankful for your uselessness. I knew of Fahim, but I didn’t know him until you suddenly wanted to dance. Also because of you, I know he’d be good with my daughter.”

“Aw wait that’s cute. But I am scared to know how old she is.”

“6.” She laughs at my extremely offended face, “I’m kidding. About the bullying, my girl is 6. You’re talented and smart, Jem. Though you’re still annoying.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiles while I frown, my own sarcasm thrown back at me. She pulls her silky-black hair from her bun and regathers it into a high pony, the tips flick and shimmer in the light. “Since you already think I’m unprofessional, has Fahim said anything about me? You know they say dancers are great in bed - flexible. Pass that on for me.”

“Uhm. What.” Another grin spreads across her face, I really can’t tell if she’s messing with me or being serious. And I used to be scared of her! Past Jem, you're an idiot. “I don’t know how often you guys hang out but it seems there’s something he’s still working his way up to telling you.”

“And what is that?"

Shit. This is not my place. I force a smile, trying to hide my thoughts from becoming visible through my expression. Cindy raises her eyebrows. “I- uh. Can’t tell you. In fact, forget this conversation happened.” I bite my lip and pick my things up.

"Okay…"

Luckily, she doesn’t question me further and our conversations drift back to business-y ones: schedule updates and practice hours.

I can go back to the hell of worrying about social media’s attack on Isaac’s privacy in peace now.

~~~

Emimi, 13:20 Http://saveyourpurityanddontreadthisstory_Jesaac/onlyrealfanswritesmut It’s happening They’re so gross it’s amazing

Luke, 13:21 something tells me i do not want that on my history

You, 13:22 EMI NO

Emimi, 13:22 Emi yes? Okay I’ll look for more

You, 13:22
I WILL CONFISCATE YOuR DWVICES DEWVICES**  Fuck

Luke, 13:23 lmao

You, 13:23 D E V I C E S Im comin for em

Kieran, 13:23
There’s no stopping her. She’s behind a pillow fort  Giggling

Emimi, 13:24 Http://thechristmasconcert_Jesaaconeshot/genericfanficwebsite This ones about Jem doing a Christmas tour and singing Santa Baby which summons a ‘sex god’ Santa named Isaac to Jem’s apartment

You, 13:25 Im blocking you

Luke, 13:27 wow they even included pictures. jem as himself and isaac as a guy i dont know definitely a model probably for underwear

My phone’s screen flashes black, killed under the pressure of my thumb. I can’t be embarrassed about stories I can’t see! Though that doesn’t stop the heat swirling through my red cheeks.

I cannot believe my life has become this. Why am I even here? Why do I exist? Please tell me Isaac is just as embarrassed as I am. Unless he doesn’t care. Actually, that’d be better for my sanity.

I rub my forehead in small circles, as if that’d soothe the storm taking place underneath. Too much to think about. More will be added to the tornado of things swirling around in there soon because I have a meeting, how fun.

Apparently they found the culprit of who snuck into the breakroom and stole the screenshots.

Fahim approaches where I’m waiting in the lounge, his usual positive energy radiating from him. I wish I knew how to be as graceful as him. “Come on, let’s go.” He beckons for me to follow as he passes.

We sit in the same cold-feeling room as before, along with the same advisor. Somehow I like being alone with him even less.

“We were able to identify the person on the security footage. She was a new employee in marketing." He starts, his flat tone makes me all the more uncomfortable.

I can't sit still, fidgeting in the minimalist blue chairs. When I force myself to stop in a sad attempt to look more professional, I feel my toes squirming in my shoes. Like worms raked from the ground, flailing around for solid, safe dirt that they can burrow back into.

"She got money in exchange for information on you.” Merelson explains, hands crossed over the table. “Security did thorough checks over the previous weeks and found her around you numerous times. She was looking for things she could get, and probably memorised your phone password from looking over your shoulder.”

I take a long moment to digest this, swallowing hard to help my dry tongue. I was sort of being stalked? Is that what this means? I’m not even that popular and this shit is happening to me, what happens if I blow up? 

Heat fills my body so rapidly that I feel my hands start to shake. I keep them low, hiding them under the table

“Where is she now?” Fahim asks. Thank god he’s here, I doubt I’d still be so collected if he weren’t. Not that I am collected. At all. Oh my god.

“Fired. She betrayed her contract so we had to let her go. We’ll be keeping an eye on this for the future though. We don’t want this happening again.” He straightens up, the conclusion of this meeting coming soon.

I sure hope this doesn’t happen again, to me or anyone else. I don’t think I could handle anything like this a second time.

I’d officially move off grid to live in a forest in solitude. Maybe I could move to Latvia and get hugged by relatives I don’t know. 

“What measures are you putting in place?” Fahim once again asks, carrying the meeting without me. I really need to get my act together.

A bleak conversation ensues, about the in-depth details of new security procedures and hiring people and honestly I switched off 3 minutes in. I’m a little too busy trying to reassure myself that this is the end of the mess. Things will look up, people will lose interest in Isaac and my career will only grow - without dangerous scandals.

One can only dream though, right?

~~~

Not not me though, apparently. I lay awake in bed, thinking over the events of the day without really processing any of it. It feels like I just studied with a movie playing for background noise. I know a movie played, I remember a few lines and can fit the pieces together to form some sort of coherent storyline. But it isn't enough. I can't understand it.

It's keeping me awake. Every position I roll into feels more uncomfortable than the last, my favourite place in the entire world becoming hated in my tired haze.

A soft meow echoes from under my door, catching my entire attention. I'm up for any distraction life wants to give to me, especially if it comes in the form of the world's cutest cat.

I drag myself out of bed, feeling the fatigued weight of my body stumble down onto my feet. I ignore it, opening the door to let the fluffy blonde waltz in. 

She circles my bare leg, tail swirling around me with affection. Her warmth spreads through me like a stray sunray meeting a black shirt in the shade. I bend down to pet her, running my fingertips through the fur of her neck and feeling the pressure as she leans into it.

Cats' existence is a blessed thing. Where would I be if it weren't for these sweet moments?

A reminder plants itself in my head, once again halting any other thought from crossing. 

When Isaac first saw a picture of Turtle, he sketched her and then researched the bread: a Cornish Rex. Actually, first, he commented on how she looks like someone rolled a plucked chicken in some damp flocking, but I'm still pretending that never happened.

I pick Turtle up, hearing a quiet meow as I pull her into my arms and get back into bed. Warm and snuggled up, I'll be savoring this for as long as Turtle allows. She'll jump away any minute.

I use that as a distraction from the urge kicking through me to reach for my phone. Isaac is pretty used to my late night – or early morning – texts by this point; I still feel bad about doing it.

He's probably asleep after a long day of Uni work. I know he's gotten a lot of worksheets recently, practicing citations and how to write a good essay: stuff he's probably already good at and said he can't wait to move on from.

Turtle wriggles free from my arms, jumping out and climbing my desk to her yarn textured pillow, placed neatly next to the radiator. Although it isn't on, she still gravitates towards it.

With the cold seeping back to me, I finally give in and slip my hand under the edge of my pillow to where I had left my phone charging. I scroll through mine and Isaac's recent texts.

Neighbour Boy, 15:33 Don't think I'll make it through work. And I have more of the dumb essay stuff to write when I get back.  Jem please. Save me

You, 15:34 I have my own shit to worry about Dont even remember what I was supposed to be doing in my class Computer science is hard

Neighbour Boy, 15:36 Zoo science is hard too

You, 15:36 We shoulda picked something easy. Like film studies

Neighbour Boy, 15:37 That's more essays. 

You, 15:37 Essays I can do

Neighbour Boy, 15:37 Not with your spelling.  Gotta go, have fun struggling.

You, 15:38 Betrayed

A smile pulls at my lips despite the heaviness draped over my entire body. I've never had a friend like Isaac. Someone you can share so much with, from your deepest secrets to the tiniest, most insignificant details of your day. It's crazy to feel this way, considering the huge secret I kept from him for nearly 2 years.

And despite that, he still wants to be friends with me. He still wants to cheer me up and chat with me about the useless shit plaguing our minds. 

I scroll back down, hovering over the message bar, unsure of what to say. Either because of my permanently dazed state or extreme tiredness, nothing comes to mind. Still, I write out a message. Simple and short.

You, 03:18 Hey