Elara Hayes (POV)
I got home later than usual, and the apartment was very quiet.
"Maya? Claire…" I called but got no response. This was unusual. At this hour, someone was always around. Usually, Maya would be listening to Kai Monroe's album. Claire on the other hand will be on the couch with her phone in hand, giving live commentary about the guys flooding her DMS.
I dropped my bag on the chair and kicked off my shoes. My shoulders sagged with exhaustion. I was about to retreat to my room when I heard a sound. A muffled sob which made me stop right on track. My heart skipped a bit the moment I realized it came from the room next to mine.
"That sounds like Maya's voice," I said to myself.
"Maya, is that you?" I called again, stepping closer, tapping my feet lightly against the tile.
I knocked but got no answer, then slowly I pushed the door open. The sight that welcomed me made my jaw fall.
Maya was curled up on the edge of her bed. Her hair hung loose and messy. Her face was red and swollen, eyelashes clumped with dried tears. She looked like she has been crying for a long time.
"Maya…" I whispered, my eyes widening in shock.
I walked towards her bed and sat beside her. " Oh my goodness, what happened?"
Different thoughts were racing through my mind at the same time.
Did she have a falling out with a friend? Lost a job? Lost a relative?
I just needed her to speak before my imagination would go wild
She shook her head and covered her face as another sob broke out.
I pulled her into my arms without thinking, holding her while she cried into my shoulder.
"I'm here, babe. Take your time." I said, calming rubbing my palm on her back.
Her body shook uncontrollably, but I held her firmly, letting her lean into me.
After a long pause, she pulled back, wiping her face.
"Talk to me," I said softly.
"I… I don't know how to say it," she whispered.
"You don't have to explain perfectly. Just say it anyhow," I insisted.
Her fingers twisted in her lap, "He ended it last night," she finally said.
My chest tightened. "Who?"
"My… boyfriend," she replied, her voice trembling.
I blinked. "Boyfriend?"
"Yes. Well, last night…" She swallowed hard. "We… we slept together."
I didn't react immediately, almost wearing a deadpan expression. I mean why should I be surprised they slept together? Although Maya isn't the type to give herself away to just any guy.
"It felt different," she continued, her voice cracking. "I thought he meant it. He held me like I was the only one in the world."
Tears streamed freely now. "He said things… things you don't say unless you mean them."
I reached for her hands, holding them tight. "Maya.." I paused for a second looking into her eyes. You're not stupid for believing in someone who made you feel loved."
She shook her head. "I feel…used. Dumped like trash."
I didn't want to interrupt but I was curious to know who this guy was so I asked, "Maya, you never mentioned that you had a boyfriend. Who exactly is this guy?
She hesitated for a while and tears began rolling down her cheeks for the umpteenth time.
"It... it's...Kai Monroe," she stammered, unable to look me in the eyes.
"What?" I exclaimed.
Her words hit me like a punch. Kai Monroe… my favorite artist… had done this to her. How? When? So many questions started forming in my mind.
"Tell me everything," I urge, leaning closer. "How did it go this far? When did all these happen that I never even got a wind of it?"
She bowed her head, eyes fixed on the floor, as though meeting my gaze would expose her.
"It started that night at the performance," she replied.
"Wait a minute. You met him? When? But you were with me throughout the show." Then it hit me. She had gone back inside, saying she forgot her phone.
"So it was a lie all along? You didn't actually forget your phone?"
She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't stop myself.
I couldn't believe my ears. "What happened after that?" I asked, feeling curious.
"He kissed me and I kissed him back. He gave me his contact, and we started meeting privately. Then yesterday, we got intimate."
Her hands trembled in mine as she spoke "Afterwards, he left," she continued, her voice thinning.
"I'm so sorry, El. I let my emotions get the best of me," she apologized between sniffles. "But Kai Monroe isn't the person we thought he was. I had my first doubt when he walked out of the bed immediately after it happened."
"He said things like…" She faltered, then forced the words out. "Your pain. My healing."
The words burned in my chest not because of what she'd done, but because of how easily she'd been used.
I moved closer and drew her into me. "It's okay," I consoled her. "Don't blame yourself."
An hour later, she stopped crying and fell asleep. I stayed with her, watching how soundly she slept like a baby. I still couldn't believe Kai Monroe could do something like this.
I wanted space to think so I slipped into my room, went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The warm water ran over me, but I barely felt it.
My hands braced against the tiles, eyes closed. Maya's pain echoed in my mind: the way her shoulders had trembled, lips quivering, eyes avoiding mine.
I thought of all the rumors I had brushed off before, about the girl who died months ago, heartbroken. I had rolled my eyes then, dismissed it and called it obsession.
But now… I wasn't so sure anymore.
I let the water run hotter, trying to wash away the heaviness settling in my chest.
Stepping out, I dried off the droplets, pulled on my night dress, and didn't care that the fabric clung lightly to my skin. My mind was racing too fast to think about that.
I sat at my desk and powered my system. The screen lit up the dark room. I hesitated for just a second before typing his name.
'Kai Monroe."
Articles popped up instantly. Including interviews, photos of him with smiling faces, sold out shows and past and present Performances.
I strolled downwards but I couldn't find what I was looking for so I refined the search, typing in...'Kai Monroe allegations.'
This time around, blog posts, old tweets and fan page comments surfaced, revealing stories that sounded too similar to be coincidence.
"He promised he wouldn't leave."
"He said I was different."
"He stopped answering my calls."
"People said I was lying."
My fingers hovered over the mouse as I read. Some posts were filled with anger, others with indifference. A few ended midway, like the writers have given up.
One post caught my eye so I clicked on it. The girl wrote about meeting Kai Monroe after a show and later ending up in a hotel room. She mentioned that he whispered sweet words to her ears in the dark; words that made her believe she mattered. .
I leaned back, hands gripping the armrests. I could see Maya in those words. Her pain wasn't isolated. This pattern had been repeated too many times.
I picked up my phone and without thinking twice, I deleted all his songs which I once loved and played on repeat.
"He doesn't mean anything to me anymore," I said to myself.
I set the phone down and turned back to my screen. People might have ignored the first stories but they wouldn't ignore the next one. Not when it came from me.
I straightened in my chair, knowing fully well that things were about to change. I thought of Maya sleeping in the next room, the girl from the headline, and all the others whose voices had been ignored.
"Kai Monroe," I murmured, eyes fixed on the screen, heart steady now. "Brace yourself for what's
coming tomorrow."
I leaned back, fingers tapping the desk, already planning my next move. By the time the sun rose, nothing would be the same.