Panic Room

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Grayson and I didn't sleep as far away from each other as we could last night. I heard the door close in the middle of the night (I'm sure it was him leaving).

"Alison, wake up." Sloane's posh voice stirred me the next morning.

My head throbbed mercilessly. It felt like a rock, heavy and unyielding. Blinking against the morning light, the world seemed to spin, or maybe it was falling? A hangover would have been an understandable explanation, but this was worse.

"Alison, are you alright?" Sloane's voice, though distant, anchored me. I struggled to focus, pushing through the haze.

Groaning, I sat up and forced my eyes open, the effort sending waves of dizziness crashing over me.

"Bad decision," I muttered, the world a whirl of neon colors and disorientation.

The events of last night all came back to me. Taylor. The phone call. Grayson. What happened between us. My dreams were over. The other investor would call me later today. They won't like the answer. I'll lose everything I've worked for. I also definitely lost Gray. Forever

Sloane's hand on my back steadied me. "I'll have the staff buy some stress tabs," she offered.

"Sloane could you book a room at the shooting range today?" I asked.

"Of course." She asked like she had been asked for worse.

"What's on the agenda today?" I managed, attempting to push past the fog in my mind.

"The interview."

After a seemingly endless cycle of showering and styling, I noticed a golden band on Sloane's left ring finger.

"Are you married?" I asked curiously.

"Yes," she replied, her demeanor softening as she grabbed my chin to assess my face. "Liquid foundation."

As the beautician worked their magic, I engaged Sloane in conversation, looking for a distraction from the pressure.

"What's it like?" I probed. "Being married."

"In all honesty I can't really find the word for it." She paused for a second to think. " It feels ethereal. It's peaceful not in an ordinary way. We still fight but there is never a time I don't have faith that we will fix it. Love used to feel delicate and brittle, but when you meet your person it feels soft, warm, it feels entirely unreal."

I wanted to cry. My person, I thought that person was Gray. A stupid delusional part of me still think it is him. I wanted softness. I wanted warmth. I wanted to feel loved. Especially after talking to Taylor. I wanted peace. I wanted somebody. That's why I did what I did last night. Because I still believed he felt the way I felt about him.

The transformation in the mirror was startling, a polished facade that felt both foreign and familiar. The image staring back at me was striking, yet somehow hollow. The foundation and concealer made my skin look pore less. The blush made me look naturally flushed. The mascara and eyeliner made my eyes draw extra attention. My lipstick made my lips look just the right shade of pink. I had a face full of make-up but it was put together so well people would believe it was real. My dress highlighted my figure. Actually it made my figure look better. It was a light blue dress that stopped midthigh. It had a sweetheart neckline that dipped enough to see my collarbone but not my cleavage. The dress was tight in all the right areas. I wore the thinnest stilettos I had ever seen but also added so much height. It almost didn't feel like me.

As Sloane launched into a lecture on camera etiquette during the car ride, I found myself lost in a haze of memories and uncertainties. Grayson's presence beside me felt like an anchor in a storm, The space between us both reassuring and suffocating.

The interview began smoothly enough, but as the questions turned personal, a sense of unease settled over me like a shroud.

"According to our sources, the two of you had broken up. Now you're suddenly tying the knot. Care to explain?" the host prodded.

Grayson's arm around me felt both comforting and confining as he spun a romantic love story that was so much more fiction than reality. I wished it was real though I wish we were still in. I wish we had never broken up. I wished we were still getting married.

"And why the sudden urge to be serious?" the host pressed, oblivious to the charade.

"Because I'm seriously in love with this girl." He said giving me a featherlight kiss on the cheek.

Grayson's response felt like a punch to the gut a cruel reminder of what we once had—or what I thought we had atleast.

"What about you Alison, are you happy?" The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation.

Then my breath caught

Breath... breath... breath... breath...

Inhale—sharp, stabbing pain lanced through me left chest, gripping me with terror.

Am I... heart attack?

Cameras flash, lights glare—blinding, overwhelming.

Exhale—panic claws at me, desperate for escape.

Need... away...

Crash—sudden, a feel a strong impact, pain blossoming in its wake.

Down... blood... blood!?

Sensation fades, numbness encroaches.

Breath... breath... breath...

Inhale—wetness cascades down my cheeks, mingling with my terror.

Sobbing... am I... crying?

Exhale—desperate plea, lost amidst the turmoil.

Gray? Where... he... is?

Help... help... help... help...

Breath... air...

Breath... breath... breath... breath...

Am I... die?

(Short update today sorry I promise the next chapter is like 10x better)

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 10 ⏰

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