10:16 AM – Room 2B, Blossom Street

The first thing I felt wasn’t shame.

It was comfort.

A breeze brushed across my stomach.

Soft. Cool. Just enough to make me sigh.

The fan hummed above like a lazy lullaby.

The sheet was half-off.

My skin touched air like it belonged there.

I didn’t want to move.

Until I did.

My hand reached for the hem of my shirt—

and found nothing.

That’s when my eyes opened.

Slow. Sticky.

And I saw it.

No tank top.

No shorts.

Just the thin strap of underwear looped around one thigh like a joke.

I sat up fast.

The sheet fell.

And every inch of me woke up with a jolt.

Breasts out.

Stomach damp.

Inner thighs still slick.

I blinked at the mirror.

Then at my chest.

Then lower.

Oh.

Bona...

Why am I naked?

_________________________________________________________

10:19 AM – Still bed, still bare

I pulled the sheet to my chin, like it could rewind time.

My breath was uneven.

Not from panic.

From remembering.

Her thigh.

Pressed next to mine.

The heat in her eyes.

The slow lean.

She almost kissed me.

Almost.

But didn’t.

And yet here I am—

body acting like something happened anyway.

Between my legs: warm.

Not sore.

But sensitive.

Like I’d been touched.

Hard.

Deep.

More than once.

Except no one had touched me.

Not really.

Unless I did.

Unless… I didn’t stop myself after she left.

Unless my hand moved while my head said no.

Or said nothing.

I don’t remember.

But my body does.

My nipples are still tight.

My thighs still pressed like they’re hiding something.

And my hand, when it brushes my chest—

flinches.

Not because I’m scared.

Because it feels like a memory.

Bona…

what’s worse than being touched without consent?

Maybe… touching yourself without memory.

I wrap myself in the sheet like a secret.

But I still smell it.

Me.

Wanting.

It’s still there.

And no matter how much I cover myself…

It’s under my skin.

___________________________________________

10:28 AM – In front of the mirror

I look like someone who had sex.

With who?

With nothing.

With want.

With the sound of someone else’s bed slamming against a wall.

With a girl who didn’t kiss me but almost made me cry.

My nipples are red.

My thighs pink.

My lips bitten.

And none of it makes sense.

I dress slow.

Tank top, no bra.

Shorts, no underwear.

I can’t bring fabric that close again yet.

Not until the shame cools.

Bona…

I feel like I cheated on myself.

___________________________________________________

10:41 AM – Walking, no map

The air outside is loud.

Heat shouts against my skin.

I walk.

Nowhere in mind.

Just away.

From my sheets.

From the echo in my bones.

From the fan that spun like a silent witness.

Every step is sticky.

The kind of sticky that doesn’t come from sweat.

My body still remembers her.

Still clenches like she might touch me again.

But she didn’t.

I reach a corner.

Somewhere familiar.

Or not.

Then I see them.

___________________________________________________

11:28 AM – Rue38 Café, across the street

Three girls.

One metal table.

Laughter I don’t trust.

First girl: slouched, boots on bench, phone in hand like it’s a weapon.

I name her Trouble.

Second girl: soft cardigan, dreamy eyes, scribbling stars into a notebook.

She’s Smoke.

Third girl: blazer, tight bun, eyes like she invented judgment.

Absolutely Ice.

I freeze.

Because I’ve seen all three.

Separately.

From afar.

On accident.

But together?

This is a glitch.

They don’t match.

They don’t belong.

Which means they’re probably dangerous.

Bona…

Is it possible to be afraid of someone who hasn’t even spoken?

Then the café door opens.

She steps out.

Talia.

Hair damp.

Shirt loose.

Two iced drinks and a look that says she’s already winning.

  “Jakarta,” she grins.

  “You stalking me, or fate just wants us in the same frame again?”

I want to melt.

Or disappear.

Or crawl into the plastic straw of my dignity and drown.

The three girls look up.

Trouble smirks.

Smoke blinks, slow and soft.

Ice? She stares. Like I’m a pop quiz she didn’t approve.

  “You inviting her?” Ice asks.

  “Or just collecting sad cases now?”

  “She’s not a case,” Talia says.

  “She’s… interesting.”

  “Hmm.” Ice sips her drink.

  “Hope she doesn’t ruin the table symmetry.”

I almost walk away.

But then Smoke speaks.

  “She looks like someone who needs to sit down.

Before she disappears again.”

I step forward.

Because not moving hurts more.

I grab the only empty chair.

It screeches.

Everyone flinches.

  “She’s bold,” Trouble says.

  “Or deaf.”

Talia hands me a drink.

  “Matcha. No sugar.

You look like you punish yourself with taste.”

I take a sip.

It burns.

Even though it’s cold.

_______________________________________

11:36 AM – Sitting. Not belonging

They talk.

Not to me.

Around me.

Trouble starts a debate about threesomes.

Smoke quotes a dream she had last week.

Ice asks if anyone has hand sanitizer after touching the menu.

I just sit.

Matcha sweating in my hand.

My thighs buzz.

Not from arousal.

From leftover shame.

Like I brought it with me.

Bona…

I didn’t ask to belong.

But I don’t want to be dismissed either.

_____________________________________________

11:48 AM – Still the fourth chair

No one asks my name.

But no one kicks me out.

That’s… something.

Trouble lights a cigarette.

Smoke traces a star on the table with condensation.

Ice just scrolls.

Talia leans back.

Eyes on me, but not heavy.

Just… watching.

Bona…

I woke up naked, unsure if I broke a promise to myself.

Now I’m here—

clothed but exposed.

Still not sure if I’m a guest...

or a test.

But I stayed.

And that feels like more than I had this morning.

To be continued...