---
I walked over to where I'd dropped my bag and pulled out my PJs. After the long day I'd had, all I wanted was to disappear beneath the blanket and let sleep swallow me whole. But the dull ache in my muscles begged for a hot shower first. With a tired sigh, I grabbed my towel and dragged myself to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, my skin was warm, my hair damp, and I was curled beneath the covers, my eyelids heavy and ready to give in.
Knock. Knock.
"Hello, room service." A woman's voice cut through the quiet, pulling me out of the edge of sleep.
I groaned, squinting at the sunlight, but the brightness stabbed through my eyelids. I slammed them shut again and growled under my breath.
"What time is it?" I mumbled, rolling away from the harsh light burning through my lashes. The knocking didn't stop. My head throbbed in rhythm with it.
With a mix of annoyance and resignation, I dragged myself to the door.
"What?" I snapped, my voice sharp.
A soft, polite voice answered, "I come to clean the room."
"Not now. Come another time," I muttered, shutting the door before she could say anything else.
When I turned back, the red digits of the clock glared at me. 2:00 PM. I'd slept almost an entire day. No dinner. No surprise. Skipping meals had become a quiet habit.
I collapsed back onto the bed and grabbed my phone. Notifications lit up the screen like tiny reminders of everything I ignored—texts and two missed calls from Sandy. Predictable. But one missed call made my chest tighten. Mom.
She never called. Ever. She always said phone calls were "a waste of time." So why now?
My fingers hovered, then typed anyway: [Hey, saw your missed call.] I hit send and pretended I wasn't overthinking it.
My stomach twisted, reminding me it existed. Call Sandy first or eat? Food won. I needed the energy to deal with her.
I ordered room service, and a short while later, a knock echoed through the room again.
"Room service," a male voice announced.
"Come in," I said, pushing my phone aside.
A young man with pale skin and messy blond hair walked in, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black trousers. He set the tray on the table, mumbled a polite greeting, and left.
The aroma hit me like a warm hug—pasta, sausages, and a thick vanilla milkshake. My stomach growled loud enough to make me laugh at myself.
But before I could take the first bite, my phone buzzed. Sandy. Of course.
"Hey, bitch! You decided not to pick up or text today, huh?" Her voice was bright and playful—like sunlight after a storm.
"And I can hear you decided not to stay mad at me anymore," I teased, grinning even though she couldn't see it.
"Stop," she warned, but her laugh gave her away.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," I chuckled. "I was sleeping. Just woke up."
"I knew it," she said smugly. "That's why I didn't come drag you out myself. So… can I come now?"
Her voice softened into that dangerous mix of sweet and persistent. She knew exactly how to corner me.
"I can't go out today. Tomorrow," I sighed. "But you can come over. We'll watch something."
"Fine," she said with a smile I could hear through the phone. "Let me check in with my mom first."
---
Two hours later, Sandy burst through the door like a shot of energy. She always did.
We watched a movie, played a few games, and talked. She didn't waste any time before bringing it up.
"There's a party tomorrow," she said, her eyes lighting up. "You're not spending another night alone in this cave."
I raised an eyebrow at her dramatic tone.
"Free drinks. Free snacks. Cute girls." She smirked.
I tried to fight the smile tugging at my lips. Failed.
"And if you're lucky," she added, leaning closer, "someone might make your night… unforgettable."
I laughed, but something inside me cracked a little. It had been so long since I'd let anyone close. I'd built walls around myself so thick, even I struggled to breathe inside them. But maybe… just maybe… it was time to step out.
"Fine," I finally said. "I'll come. But you're helping me look for an apartment first."
She squealed like she'd just won a prize. "Yes! Finally! My friends are going to lose their minds when they meet you. They were starting to think you were imaginary."
I narrowed my eyes playfully. "What exactly did you tell them?"
She just laughed.
Then she glanced at her phone, her smile widening. "Mike's taking me to dinner tonight."
"And here I thought you dressed up for me," I teased.
She burst out laughing. "I have thirty minutes to get ready. Don't miss me too much."
We spent the rest of the time talking about the party. She showed me photos of her friends—names I couldn't remember but faces I probably wouldn't forget.
After she left, silence filled the room again. It wasn't the comforting kind. It was the kind that reminded you how alone you really were.
I turned the TV back on. Movies were my escape. No fake smiles. No forced conversations. No expectations. Just me, the screen, and quiet.
I'd never been good at people. Friends came with responsibilities, conversations, showing up. I hated that. But Sandy… she was different. She never asked me to change. She just stayed. Persistent. Gentle. Real.
Sometimes I wonder why she's still here. But then again, maybe she's the only person who's ever seen me without the mask.
I fell asleep to the glow of the TV, alarms set for the next day. I needed to find an apartment. I was tired of being woken by polite knocks and forced smiles.
And even though I wouldn't admit it out loud, the thought of the party sparked something in me. A thrill I hadn't felt in a long time.
Girls always threw themselves at me. But this time… maybe I'd let one of them stay.
---