*Ophelia*“Get your ass into the living room!” Skylar nearly busts down my door, making me jump from my spot on the bed. I’m in the middle of writing some new music and figuring out the chorus, which I’ve been stuck on for about two hours now. But everything in my hands falls to the ground as I grasp my chest from the shock of her entrance. “Fuck, Skylar!”“Come on!” she whines, grabbing at my wrist and pulling.“What crawled up your butt?” I question, my eyes widening.She moves her loose ponytail away from her face, now using both hands and her full weight to rip me from my spot. “Just come here!”She quite literally throws me off the bed and into our living room. There, she has the TV, tuned into the sports channel that we normally watch the games on.“You dislocated my shoulders to have me look at the channel I watch most Sundays?” I deadpan.“Shut up!” She grabs the remote and turns up the volume.“Malachi Jordan had the chance to sit down and interview our favorite Slat
*Ophelia*I jump into Asher’s arms, kissing him as he spins me around like a romantic comedy. It feels like it’s been weeks since we’ve seen each other, and just being in his arms makes me feel a way I haven’t felt before.“I missed you,” he whispers into my ear, clutching the back of my head. He laces his fingers between my hair, and God does it feel so incredibly good.“Missed you more,” I reply.Asher’s in town for tonight and tomorrow, and luckily, his visit falls on one of my gigs at Aunt Jen’s. I’m pumped for this because besides seeing me at the plaza the night of Camila’s downfall, he hasn’t watched me perform yet. “So, besides seeing me at Aunt Jen’s, anything you wanna do while we’re in town?” I press as we head out of my apartment together holding hands. I’ve got my guitar case secured in the other hand, and we make our way out into the warm evening air.“I’ve got some ideas,” he taunts. “Been looking into a specific activity.”“Oh no, what’re you going to make me do
*Asher*When I hear the sound of Ophelia’s front door, my mind and body snap to attention. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Skylar had told me to throw on the TV and help myself to anything in the apartment while I waited.I look at the clock on the wall, and it’s late. Ophelia had said she wouldn’t be long, but it’s nearly midnight now. I feel my chest squeeze, worried for a moment about what happened. But she enters the room and throws her arms up in the air.“Asher!” she cheers, immediately causing me to lift my eyebrows at her sudden change in attitude. What’s going on?Ophelia grabs me into a hug, seemingly vibrating with excitement. “You’ll never believe it! He signed me! Mac Daddy, the guy we met at the plaza! He wanted to sign me, so we signed the contract tonight!”Her words slur together, and I find it complicated to place her sentence.“Ophelia, slow down, you’re drunk.” I push her away from my body, trying to get a good, complete look at her. Her face is wired, but
*Asher*As predicted, I struggle with sleeping even on the ground. Turning constantly, my mind taunting me through the night with horrid nightmares I awake from in a panic. It’s stressful and triggering.Our argument when Ophelia came home is what dances through each dream, but Courtney’s image morphs with Ophelia as my body and mind try to agree on who’s said what in the past. Sweat encases my back, and my head starts to grow heavy and pained.I sit up, leaning forward as I put my head in my hands, a wash of different emotions pushing and pulling me.This cannot happen again. I hate myself for this, but if there’s any hope for me to sleep, something’s got to give.I crawl into Ophelia’s bed, which stirs her. “Asher?” she murmurs, eyes half open as she looks at me. “What time is it?”“Late,” I respond. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”“What’s wrong?” She asks, rubbing at her eyes. “Nothing,” I lie, just wanting to sleep. “Go back to sleep, okay?”Ophelia sits up more, clearly sti
*Ophelia*My head is killing me.That’s the first thought that I have when I start coming to. God, what the hell is this headache?I slowly peel my eyes open, looking around my room for any sort of clues. But there’s nothing. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. There’s one thing that does stand out, and it’s the lack of Asher anywhere to be found.I sit up, noticing my underwear is wet, the room smells suspiciously of sex, and memories of Asher and I making love return to me. However, I also remember Asher yelling at me when I got home last night.I close my eyes again, trying to put the pieces back together.All I can remember from that is wanting him. But even that memory is far away, like on another goddamn planet.Fuck that. I open my eyes, annoyed that this is how my day is starting, but there’s nothing I’m going to do. Asher’s gone, and my life doesn’t revolve around him.I see the water bottle and aspirin on the nightstand, figuring I must have left it for myself for the
*Ophelia*Even with the looming possibility of moving to L.A. still ever-persistent in my head, I manage to put myself out there and get another waitress job at a diner not far off from my usual busking spot. In fact, it’s on my street; Broadway Diner Nashville has been around longer than Mama has. I’ve only been once or twice, but thankfully, I’ve got enough experience being a waitress that at the end of the interview, the manager, Harriet, offers me the job on the spot.“Come on in tomorrow at three. We’ll get you trained up, though all we’ll really need to do is show you around,” Harriet tells me with a gentle smile. She’s the first person I feel has looked at me with any mountain of kindness in days.I’m delighted to have another waitress gig to help with bills. I told Harriet this is only supposed to be part-time and that my main job has me busy, too. Translation: I don’t know when the hell Mac Daddy will ever call me and say I have one meeting or another.Since signing with
*Ophelia*I’ve been running myself rampant for days at this point. With everything going on, the last thing I’ve had to think about is my sanity. It’s only been a few days since the paparazzi followed me, and my heart rate still isn’t returning to normal. The anxiety and the stress are keeping me from being able to write songs or sleep well.Being in the spotlight was supposed to feel like a beautiful glow of light. I’d always imagined the idea of being someone who felt like a warm hug. Instead, it’s as if dark clouds hang above my head, reminding me of every little slip or fear I may have.I’ve been able to handle everything so far. But with Mama still in the hospital and Asher’s lack of responses, the stress continues to grow.I’m in the corner of the kitchen where the servers congregate and leave their belongings. I came back here to grab a hair tie and drink some more water. I’m so thirsty from the amount of talking I’ve been doing, and I just need to take a two-minute break.
*Ophelia*I wake up to my phone going off repeatedly. Each ding that plays doesn’t have time to fade out before several other notifications go off. What the hell is going on? Who needs to get ahold of me this badly?I rub the sleep from my eyes and grab the phone, unlocking it to see my social media accounts blowing up.As my vision begins to clear, I see awful comments coming up about me. From several accounts, I see hate, lies, and full-fledged threats emerging.I quickly scan the lines of text before me.“She looks like a cheap hooker.”“Her voice reminds me of a screeching monster.”“Flat-chested bitch.”“No talent, don’t understand what people see in her.”“The ugliest person I’ve ever seen.”“She’s definitely after the Slater’s money. Someone please tell Asher to kick her ass!”“Someone should shut her up.”“I’ve been thinking about how I’d kill you.”“Someone call SVU because we’re about to have a crime on our hands.”“Camila deserved better than you, whore.”I