The sound of crinkling paper fills the room as I trace my hand along the poster tacked to the wall. It’s only one of many posters hanging there, but it remains my favorite, even after getting the newest one.
She’s lying down in the photo, her black hair sprawled out above her as she gazes into the camera. A few tears captured in the moment, falling down her face. Gorgeous.
Perhaps I resonated with it more than I thought, the way the picture of her expresses this deep loneliness. I feel that way, too.
“Paityn, have you heard back from her yet?”
“No, Mom. Not yet.” I turn to see my mom standing in the doorway, her brown hair back in a loose bun with a few of her curls peeking out through her bangs.
“I’m sorry, Sweetie. I don’t understand the change.” I could see the hurt in her brown eyes, and I didn’t know what to do to help. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t force the girl to stay friends with me, no matter how much I wish I could.
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” It’s mine.
She just smiles, but then her eyes fix on something behind me.
“So, her new album comes out next week, doesn’t it?” I respect the subject change, and anything related to her brightens my mood.
“Yeah, she’s been releasing snippets from a couple songs and it’s gonna be so good, I can tell. But, it’s Blake, anything she puts out is immune to being shitty.”
“We’ll dedicate the day to streaming her, okay? Now, do you want anything to eat?” I smile at that.
“Not right now, I’ll fix something later. Thanks, Mom.”
“Course, let me know if you change your mind.” And just like that, I’m alone in my room again.
My eyes refocus on the same poster as before and for the first time in months, I’m actually looking forward to something.
It’s 3 o’clock in the morning when I wake up to my throat feeling like sandpaper. I gulp down the water next to me and can’t help myself as I reach over for my phone.
It reads “3:47 AM” and I take a deep breath in when the phone vibrates in my hands.
Is it her?
“Blake posted a photo to their story,” the notification reads. My stomach drops, and although I’m always happy to see Blake active on social media, it feels as if no matter what I say or do, Kacey just will not respond to me.
The last thing she said to me was, “I’ve just been going through it, Girl. But I promise it’s not you.”
The first couple times she said that, I believed her.
But, it’s been months now and—as bad as it is—I’ve stalked her socials. She’s not ignoring everyone else. She’s been out with her boyfriend and friends multiple times, but whenever I ask her, she tells me she’s busy.
I know the reality of what this means, but for a long time I put the situation in the back of my mind, hoping something would change and Kacey and I would go back to how we used to be.
Me giving her all the updates on Blake and other artists we both share interest in, and her telling me what’s going on in her life. Now, I hardly know anymore.
It’s like she’s moving up in life and I’m just stuck here, not sure what to do or where to go. I thought she would bring me with her, but I guess I was wrong.
A bright light reflects off my glasses once I open Blake’s story, and—to think of anything other than what I have been the last few days—I go back through some of her more recent posts.
It’s mainly been about her new album, the color green shows up a lot which we now know is because of the new album color, but she’s also added photos of her with her friends and family. Those posts are definitely few and far in between, but when I see them, I can’t help the little twang of jealousy that sparks through me like static electricity.
I’ve always wanted relationships like that, people to confide in with similar interests and plans to see the world. I really thought Kacey was that person. But, now I’m back where I started.
Shaking my head of those thoughts, I open up Spotify and play Blake’s discography in order. If anything will help my train of thought, it’s going to be Blake. One way or another, at least.
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