ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁻ ᴮʳⁱᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᴰᵃˡᵗᵒⁿ

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ʳᵒˡˡᵉʳ⁻ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ʳᵘˢʰ

New album?

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I disabled the comments. I have been doing that for a while and everyone has been asking me about it. It's nice to know that they care.

The real reason was that I was tired. Sick and tired of fucking Kathy Santoni's messages about my body. I had gained so much weight over the past two weeks. I didn't want her pointing it out.

But I feel so bad. I'm not giving people what they want, and I really feel like I should. I swear to god, her comments never used to bother me before, but I don't know what happened to me. It's weird.

I laid sprawled across my couch as I continue to eat ice cream and binge the Jump Street movies again.

My buzzer suddenly buzzed and I heard a familiar voice outside my apartment door.

"Evie? It's Britain."

My heart beats faster for some reason as I quickly go to get the door.

"Brit!" I say, but not as enthusiastic as it should have been. He offers me a smile as I lock the door behind him.

"How you feeling?" He questions and I nod.

"Good. You?" He nods at me. I begin walking over to my room to freshen up a bit.

"One sec." I let him know, not closing my room door from behind me.

I grab a crop top and a pair of leggings and put them on. As soon as I attempted to put the leggings on, they stopped before going up my thighs.

"The hell?" I groan and put sweatpants on instead. I then look into my mirror.

Jesus Christ, I gained a shit ton of weight. There was noticable belly fat gathered at the bottom of my stomach and I had gained weight at my thighs.

Ugly.

While checking out my weight, I hear a voice.

"Evelyn?"

I quickly turn back to see Britain watching me watch myself.

"What're you doing?" He questions, walking towards me.

"I'm fat." I state, tears pooling my eyes.

"Ev, you're not fat. And so what, even if you were. You're fucking beautiful, alright?" Britain tells me, holding my hands.

"But I'm ugly! I can't be ugly, what's everyone gonna think?" I cry as he pulls me into a hug.

"Screw them." Britain says plainly. We pull apart and Britain speaks again. "Who cares what they think. The Evelyn I know wouldn't give two shits about what they think. If they can't love you the way you are, then who are they to judge?"

"You're quoting the Weeknd." I say, chuckling through my tears. Britain cracks a smile.

"There's my girl." He smiles. My heart skips a beat at his words. His girl?

"I'm sorry." I say softly.

"Evelyn, nothing is your fault. You didn't even do anything wrong." Britain tells me and for some reason I decide, huh let's believe him.

"Okay." I look up at him, into his crystal blue eyes.

"Your eyes are pretty." I say out loud, Britain laughing softly at my words.

"You're prettier." He states, causing a small blush to form on my cheeks.

"You're prettiest." I chime and he scoffs, laughing.

"That's not a word."

"It most definitely is."

"It's not."

"It is."

"It's a made up word."

"All words are made up words by someone who made them up."

"My brain stopped working for a sec there."

"Yeah, I could see that."

He scoffs, mock-offense on his face. "But seriously, Evelyn. You're really pretty."

"Shush." I tell him, a toothy grin plastered on my face.

"No, I think I'm gonna keep complimenting you." Britain continues, stepping forward, us only a few inches apart.

"Oh yeah. Continue." I state as a smile plays at his lips.

Suddenly, he leans forward, his lips literally fucking millimeters away from mine. My breath hitches as his lips brush against my cheek and lean towards my ear.

I feel his hot breath on the side of my face as he whispers, "I'll see you later, De Luca."

And just like that, he left.

What the actual fucking hell just happened?