𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

6|Sofia

Why, oh why can't I get my mind off it? The way he was looking at me, those brown eyes lingering in my thoughts, it was so frustrating. I need to rest, or I'll go crazy like this. I muttered to myself, heading towards the bed. As I lay down, a sigh of relief escaped me. Much better. I gazed up at the ceiling, finding solace in the quietness surrounding me. It had been so long since I had just laid down on my bed since I had returned here since I had done anything at all.

Since my 18th birthday, it's like I couldn't do anything anymore. My head was constantly stuck in the past, not letting me move on. Music became my escape place, helping me escape my thoughts, forget the painful memories, and most importantly, forget the truth that would disappoint Mom and Dad once they found out.

Oh god, Dad... he wouldn't be able to handle it. But I couldn't decide whether or how to tell them, or if I should tell them at all. If I kept it a secret, it would never come out, right? But if Dad found out from someone else, it would shatter him. I love Mom and Dad so much, I never want to hurt them, but they deserve to know the truth too.

After four years of burying it deep in my heart, away from the people I love, away from my family, I still couldn't make sense of what was going on in my head. I grabbed the pillow beside me, screaming out my frustration. It felt so much better.

"Sof—" My thoughts were interrupted by my name, someone calling from outside the door. "Yes," I replied, putting the pillow back and heading to open the door.

"Oh my god—" I exclaimed as I saw Freya standing there. "Happy to see me?" she asked, looking into my eyes.

"Happy? Freya, I could kiss you right now and not regret it ever," I joked, as she scowled at my response. We hugged tightly, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Yes, Freya, I missed you too. Nice to see you," she said, with a hint of sarcasm. "Well, that's not the way we talk, is it?" I teased, as I gestured for her to sit on the bed. "Correction, that's not the way you talk. I talk like this," she rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You aren't planning on changing ever, are you?" I asked, knowing her response already. "You know what I'll say," she replied, confirming my expectations.

Freya Castillo, the daughter of Aunt Sloane and Uncle Xavier, was my childhood friend and like a sister to me. Mom always used to take us out for ice cream after school, and I used to tease her by stealing her ice cream after dropping mine on the floor. Those were the days of carefree fun, and now, time had flown by, turning 12 into 21, and soon enough, 21 would become 31.

Freya was a bit older than me, the same age as Nicko, both three years older than me. "Freya—" I said, giving her a suspicious look. "What's that for?" she responded, clearly understanding what I was implying.

"If you're here, then that means Damon is also here," I said with a smirk, only to receive an annoyed look from her. "Kiddo, why don't you focus on the things you have in your life and not bother with that guy," she advised, which immediately changed my expression to a frown.

"Oh, come on, are you two still on 'we hate each other' terms or what?" Freya and Damon had always despised each other, for reasons only known to them. But their actions always contradicted their claims.

"And yes, he's here too. I just came straight up here while he was parking the car in the basement," Freya explained, looking towards me and sighing as she justified her situation.

"Okay—" Before I could say anything else, a knock on the door interrupted us. "Coming," Freya replied, heading towards the door.

"Who is it?" I called out to Freya, hoping for a response, but all I heard in return was a loud thud, indicating the door closing.