✧ * 𝐒 𝐚 𝐟 𝐞 𝐚 𝐧 𝐝 𝐒 𝐨 𝐮 𝐧 𝐝 *✧

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠

After finishing the first hand and setting it aside to dry, I start painting Taylor's other hand.

 "Beautiful baby!" Taylor exclaimed, her words affirming my skill in nail artistry. With a grateful smile, I responded, 

"Thank you," before shifting focus to the other hand. As I delicately painted each nail, Taylor and I relished the comfortable stillness that enveloped us.

"Your talent is insane, Rain," Taylor commended, her eyes admiring the finished nails. 

 "Thank you; painting nails for dance competitions has certainly helped my nail polish skills over time." I completed the second hand, taking a moment to appreciate the flawless outcome.

With the final stroke of polish and the lid securely back in place, I announced,

 "All done!" Taylor's eyes lit up with excitement as she looked at the finished look.

"Amazing, I love it!" She said exitingly. 

Me and Taylor sit comfortably on the soft, plush carpeted floor, the air filled with the sweet scent of freshly painted nails, waiting patiently for her vibrant nails to dry completely for what seems like an eternity, but in reality only about 10 minutes.

"Are they dry yet?" I ask eagerly, unable to contain my curiosity, my impatience apparent in my questioning tone.

Taylor chuckles, her laughter infectious and warm, "Rain, if you ask me that one more time, I might just tickle you!" Her playful threat elicits more laughter from me.

I can't help but ask once more, "But are they dry now?" My voice filled with anticipation as I watch Taylor delicately slide her finger over one of her freshly painted nails, relief flooding me when it remains flawlessly intact.

With a satisfied smile, Taylor gathers the array of colorful polishes scattered around us, neatly placing them back in their basket. Rising gracefully to her feet, she proceeds to carefully return the polishes to its designated spot. Meanwhile, I remain seated on the cozy floor, absentmindedly picking at the fading remnants of nail polish from last week's dance competition. Returning from the bathroom, Taylor's face lights up with a gentle smile as she gazes at me.

"Alright, darling, I'm going to slip into my comfy pajamas. Can you hold still here for a few moments while I change?" Taylor's asks. I nod at her request as she disappears into her walk-in closet.

I start to get bored as I wait for Taylor as she changes. I slide my back down the wall that I was resting on and lay on the floor, feeling the coolness seep through my clothes. Suddenly, my phone dings besides me, the sound piercing the silence around me. I roll over onto my stomach, the rough texture of the carpet pressing against my skin, and pick up my phone. I gaze over the lockscreen of me and Taylor, the photo on it capturing a happy moment, and find an unsettling text that sends a chill down my spine.

Harper❤️: Hey, Lilah told me that Emma, Sophia, and Tasha told you about what I said. I just wanted to tell you that it wasn't right for you to hear it from them. Even though what I said was true. You should've heard it from me. So now me and Lilah aren't talking to them. But that doesn't excuse what you did to me and the things you said at my house. Just because you didn't hear what I said from me, doesn't mean it's not true. And I hope those words really sink in. You are a terrible person. You don't deserve any friends. And I hope soon the day comes when you notice that, and you realize that nobody in your life wants you. You should listen to me and them and do us a favor with the information. Nobody wants you in their life, on this earth, so you should leave.

Was she implying I should kill myself? The weight of her words hits me like a ton of bricks, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. It feels as though a dagger has been thrust into my heart, the pain spreading like a wildfire. The overwhelming emotion catches up with me, and my throat tightens with the sobs that I've been holding back. Tears soon come pouring out uncontrollably, wetting my cheeks and pajama shirt, mingling with the salty taste streaming down my face. I attempt to cover my mouth to stifle the cries, but the floodgate has opened, and the tears keep coming. She was my best friend just last week, and now she wants me to be dead, leaving me in a sea of hurt and betrayal.