Part One – Sky
I didn't mean to cry.
I just wanted to explain. To say sorry. To make it all go away.But my voice shook, and my throat closed up, and next thing I knew, my eyeliner was running like a river and I couldn't breathe past the panic.
People were watching. So many people.And I could feel them — the ones who weren't fans. The ones just here to laugh. To throw more.
I almost ended the livestream.
But then I saw the comments shift."She's crying, y'all this isn't funny.""Wait Rain's there???""She looks like a real person right now. Not a celebrity. A person."
And then they were there.Day behind me, arms crossed, jaw tense. Night looking like she'd kill someone. Rain... oh God.
He stood in front of the camera like it was a battlefield and he'd die protecting it.He didn't say much. Just:
"Say what you want. But she's more real than half of you watching. She is MARS. And none of you can handle that."
I think I stopped crying then.
Part Two – Rain
I hate seeing her like that.
I'd rather have her bouncing off the walls and knocking over mugs and giggling about whatever dude from Aries texted her some dumb emoji. I'd take a thousand of those versions over this one — sitting quiet in my kitchen, sleeves over her hands, holding tea like it's the only thing anchoring her to Earth.
"Did I mess everything up?" she asks, eyes big and wet.
"No."But my voice cracks. Damn it.I clear my throat. "You didn't."
"I kissed a guy and hit a high note on the sidewalk, Rain. We were at a CVS thirty minutes before that."
I should laugh. Maybe I do, a little. "That high note was insane."
She narrows her eyes. "You're not mad?"
"I was," I say honestly. "At first."
She sips her tea. "Because I embarrassed the band?"
I shake my head. "Because someone hurt you. And I couldn't stop it."
There's a pause. A long one. Then she leans her cheek on the counter and murmurs, "I think I love you."
My lungs stop.
She doesn't even realize what she said. Not fully. She's tired. Frayed. Probably doesn't even mean it. But it still hits like a meteor.
And me? I can't lie to her. Not tonight.
So I breathe out."Yeah," I whisper. "I know."The Storm and the Silence
Part One – Sky
I didn't mean to cry.
I just wanted to explain. To say sorry. To make it all go away.But my voice shook, and my throat closed up, and next thing I knew, my eyeliner was running like a river and I couldn't breathe past the panic.
People were watching. So many people.And I could feel them — the ones who weren't fans. The ones just here to laugh. To throw more.
I almost ended the livestream.
But then I saw the comments shift."She's crying, y'all this isn't funny.""Wait Rain's there???""She looks like a real person right now. Not a celebrity. A person."
And then they were there.Day behind me, arms crossed, jaw tense. Night looking like she'd kill someone. Rain... oh God.
He stood in front of the camera like it was a battlefield and he'd die protecting it.He didn't say much. Just:
"Say what you want. But she's more real than half of you watching. She is MARS. And none of you can handle that."
I think I stopped crying then.
Part Two – Rain
I hate seeing her like that.
I'd rather have her bouncing off the walls and knocking over mugs and giggling about whatever dude from Aries texted her some dumb emoji. I'd take a thousand of those versions over this one — sitting quiet in my kitchen, sleeves over her hands, holding tea like it's the only thing anchoring her to Earth.
"Did I mess everything up?" she asks, eyes big and wet.
"No."But my voice cracks. Damn it.I clear my throat. "You didn't."
"I kissed a guy and hit a high note on the sidewalk, Rain. We were at a CVS thirty minutes before that."
I should laugh. Maybe I do, a little. "That high note was insane."
She narrows her eyes. "You're not mad?"
"I was," I say honestly. "At first."
She sips her tea. "Because I embarrassed the band?"
I shake my head. "Because someone hurt you. And I couldn't stop it."
There's a pause. A long one. Then she leans her cheek on the counter and murmurs, "I think I love you."
My lungs stop.
She doesn't even realize what she said. Not fully. She's tired. Frayed. Probably doesn't even mean it. But it still hits like a meteor.
And me? I can't lie to her. Not tonight.
So I breathe out."Yeah," I whisper. "I know."