*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
*Asher*Is this real right now? Or does the universe enjoy fucking with me at any expense? Here I am, trying to figure out what to do with Ophelia, and these fucking pictures show up on my phone to tell a completely different story.I know I can’t lose it right now, but I also know that Ophelia continues to spin her web of lies and manipulate me with what is and isn’t the truth.“Ophelia,” I ask, doing my best to remain as calm as I can muster. “What am I looking at? What’s been going on with you two?”“Seriously?” she asks. “You know the answer. Nothing has ever been going on with Jake. He’s a friend. It’s nothing you need to worry about, Asher.”My blood burns inside me, my heart pounding harder and faster while trying to put the pieces together. This was the guy she was playing with on the street. She and the guy ran off together when I started asking her questions.So then, why not tell me the truth?I had hoped there could be a way to work everything through with Ophelia. B
*Ophelia*I am such a hothead. Sometimes, I forget just how different our worlds are and the various ways we’re relied on. He just made me so ANGRY. Asher has expectations he has to live up to, but saying what he did? It hurt me. And I wanted him to hurt, too.But the phone call, while explosive, also revealed my heart still isn’t over Asher. It’s so nonsensical to be into a guy who clearly doesn’t want to continue this relationship, but I’ve learned that when it comes to Asher, my heart never makes any rational sense.Jake has never been an option. I see him as a musician and a person, but I’ve never looked at him and imagined a future. He’s a great and talented person, but no romantic feelings have blossomed in the few years I’ve known him. Why doesn’t Asher believe me?It’s always been important to me to be upfront and candid with other individuals. Even when we were essentially strangers, I told Asher about my mom, something I don’t trust others to know. Camila was the except
*Asher*I haven’t heard from Ophelia in days. I want to allow her time to cool off and talk to me when she’s ready. But here I am, struggling to get through every day while she’s gone.Mark’s been trying to talk with me since that first day in the changing room, but nothing has come of it. I don’t want to deal with this without talking to Ophelia. Mark is my best friend, but he doesn’t get it. He’s never understood the pressure, even if he claims to.My sleep has been essentially non-existent, making focusing on the game impossible. Coach continues to scream at my mistakes and attitude. I give him nothing back—no words, no thoughts, no insults. “Slater, if you don’t figure out your bullshit by Sunday’s game, we’re going to have a real problem!” he barks in the locker room. The other players stay silent, too, but I watch them exchange worried glances.I only nod to Coach, not wanting to dig myself into a deeper shit hole. But what does everyone expect from me? I’m a human being, a