"i'm lost in my own fantasies, i can't escape"
in which a young girl is a famous musician, only to be anonymous. she grew up, used the funds to run away, finding herself in finland.
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mentions of abuse and depression within the story, warnings will...
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"you have nothing to be sorry for"
MENTIONS OF «»
act three chapter 'kaksikymmentäyhdeksän' twenty-nine
packing didn't seem like something you'd do after something that, but it looked to be the best option. shoving her most treasured objects in bags, it appeared messy, lazy.
the girl was stressed, paranoid after what had happened. her movements were frantic, rushing around the house like a crazy woman.
what could she take? what could she leave? this shouldn't be something unplanned, but who knows how fast her father can work.
kaylah shouldn't know where she lives, but they're only a five-minute walk from her house currently. it was a dangerous situation, he could easily catch her 'alone' at any time.
"vasiliki?" a voice called from her front door, knocking a few times to gain her attention, "vasiliki, please answer."
at least she won't be 'alone' for a whole.
but she didn't want to, she didn't want to talk. ignoring the person at the door, she continued packing as much as she could.
at least she got more than half a year out of this house. the girl was resourceful, not spending the bulk money right after she released her album.
she still had plenty left, but not enough to comfortably buy another house. could she sell this one? it still isn't guaranteed she'll receive the money quick enough. it was a gamble, a risky one at that, but what other option is there?
"i'm alone," the person called again, banging on the wood one last time, "i promise."
if she just waits long enough, then they'll just leave, right? it's what she wanted to believe, longing to hear the fading footsteps. they never came through, and the girl was surprised they even stayed this long.
the person was persistent, a quality that could go either way. in this case, it was negative, vasiliki just wanting to be left alone.
"vi," they called once more, the tone almost pleading my this point, "please?"
the redhead stormed up to the entrance as silently as possible, which wasn't very quiet. her anger got the better of her, the lingering figure not helping. she was still stressed, and felt it was better to deal with it on her own.
"what do you want, olli?" she asked, swinging the door open with dramatics. she knew who it was for a while, partial for the reason she didn't want to answer the door.
the bassist sighed, chest sinking with it. he looked to have many things to say, his mind racing for the best starter. "to talk."
well obviously, why else would he be here? a better way to phrase that would be 'can you let me inside so we can talk properly?'. that's what the girl assumed anyways.
