Nothing To Prove

24 Please, Just Open Your Eyes

Samantha

I swirled my instant noodles with a fork, watching the carrot shreds fall. Cara sat across the foldable table, with a stern, expectant look. Her six roommates behind her were tapping their keyboards in the musty living room. A vinyl blind lay broken on a stained carpet by the window.

"Here's another one." A girl with glasses and corkscrew curls leaned toward her computer. "Lifestyle influencer vomiting on the street after forced to wear blindfolds for webcam." 

"The website banned Erika's account," the chunky guy beside her turned to me. "It's gone."

Me sobbing on the curbside in that ridiculous outfit played on someone else's phone. I winced at how desperate I sounded. Whoever filmed me last night posted it on TikTok. Hence all the media attention.

The video had gone viral. 

"Why were you still in those clothes?" The curly girl grimaced. 

"Because she ran out!" Cara snapped while I rubbed my eyes. "Jesus, Katie. What do you think?" 

"At least... she got famous, right?" The chunky guy shrugged. Everyone stared at him in disappointment. "What? She's bigger now than Cara's scandal. Isn't that—"

"John, just shush. Everyone shut up." Cara scrubbed her forehead. "Sam, eat."

"I'm too nauseous... It'd help if I smoke—"

"Are you kidding me? The whole reason you ended up in the Emergency Room was because of weed. You're not smoking shit, dude. I'm serious. Over my dead body."

True. The weed had not helped the panic attack. I'd felt like I was going to die. But according to the exasperated nurses who checked my vitals after midnight, it was dear anxiety. 

When I kept begging Erika to let me go, she slipped a black blindfold over my eyes to help my shyness. Little did she know, I'd accidentally punch her in the jaw and bolt down the stairs.

"Yeah, you're—" My words cut off with a knock on the door. 

Cara walked up to the peephole, then gave me a doubtful glance that explained who it was. 

"Hey..." She unlocked, shooting my pulse up.

"Is she here?" 

As if sensing my presence beside him on the cheap dining table, Ashton made eye-contact. Oh. Gray under eye bags said he hadn't slept. His black cotton shirt wrinkled. Lips narrow and slightly down in the corners. Never had I see him so defeated.

I clutched the styrofoam cup to my chest, slowly standing at his silent request. I felt like someone else. In Cara's black turtleneck and leggings. Perhaps it was the mild fever running through my body. 

~

We approached the courtyard in the apartment complex, surrounded by red-tiled roofs. I slumped on the edge of a tiered fountain. The smell of chlorine and rushing water bringing a necessary distraction. Everyone was inside, getting ready for bed. Ashton stood in front of me, hands in his pockets. His hollow cheeks even more pronounced from the window lights around.

"What happened?" he murmured.

"Um..." I took a breath for courage. "I went to see what Erika had to offer. She said there was a lot of money in it. And I thought..." I shrugged, replaying the events like a cruel montage. "I thought it'd fix my problems. Clearly, I was wrong."

"You weren't going to talk to me before becoming a webcam girl?" 

"Webcam? Oh God, no. I didn't even know, I thought I'm taking cute pictures in lingerie. You know, like the one I tried at home that one time? When I was pretending to read a book?"