Invisible String

Chapter 8 -Not judging you

I step out of the shower, feeling a little fresher. I dry myself with a towel and then put on some of the clothes Logan had lent me. However, the shirt and pants are ridiculously big on me. It's not surprising, considering that Logan is much taller than I am.

I adjust the clothes a bit, trying to make them look as good as possible despite the circumstances. Although comfort leaves much to be desired, at least it makes me feel a little more protected.

I briefly wonder if my brother could come by and drop off a bag with some of my clothes. I didn't want to spend the next few weeks stealing clothes from Logan. It would be better to have some of my own things to feel more comfortable and less like an intruder in his space.

I feel my phone vibrate on the nightstand next to the bed, and I debate whether to answer it or not. It hadn't stopped ringing since I decided to turn it on two hours ago. I wasn't sure if I was ready to face whatever was waiting on the other side of that screen, but at the same time, curiosity gnawed at me from within. Finally, with a resigned sigh, I reach out and grab the phone, preparing to face whatever is waiting.

I see some messages from Jackson, Vanessa, Veronica, and even my mother, all asking how I'm feeling. My stomach churns.

Although facing them was the last thing I wanted right now, I knew I couldn't ignore their messages. They were worried about me, and I owed them at least a response.

With trembling hands, I open the chat with Jackson and write a brief message to let him know I'm okay, but that I need some time to process everything that has happened. I knew he would rely the message to everyone. 

I also write a message to my mother, trying to find the right words to say. As I write, I feel a lump in my throat, aware that I will have to face her disappointment sooner or later.

But for now, I need a moment to myself, to try to understand everything that has happened and how to move forward from here.

I bite my thumb with anxiety when I see the small icon of the Twitter app. Should I go in and take a look at what's being said about me? Or was it better to stay in the shadows?

My heart beats fast as I consider the options. I feel a strange need to know what is being said about me. At some point, I would have to face public scrutiny.

With a nervous sigh, I open the app and dive into the sea of tweets. My breath catches when I see the first messages: some asking for respect for my privacy, but others are full of hatred and accusations. The word 'slut' was used a lot.

Although there were comments supporting me, the ones filled with hate screamed louder in my mind. The words hit me like daggers, and a feeling of nausea takes hold of me. I couldn't bear the idea of my private life being analyzed and judged by millions of people around the world.

I close the app with a brisk gesture, feeling overwhelmed by the avalanche of emotions engulfing me. Maybe it would be better to stay in the shadows, at least for now.

I startle when I hear soft knocks on the door. Logan.

"Come in," I shout with a slightly choked voice, quickly running my hands over my face to ward off the tears that had managed to escape.

Logan enters with a tray that seemed to have some food.

"I hope you like soup, because my fridge is empty. I'll do some groeteries tomorrow," his comment makes me want to smile, but I fail in the attempt, I end up making a grimace that resembles a smile.

I wasn't hungry, but I would make the effort to at least try a few spoonfuls.

I don't miss the fact that he has a cigarette between his lips.

"Are you going out to smoke?" I ask him, even though the answer was obvious.

"Yes, in fact, I was coming to ask you if it bothers you. I won't smoke inside the house but on the balcony."

"It's your space, I'm just an intruder, you can do whatever you want."

"You're not an intruder, take it as you being my roommate for the next few weeks," he tries to make me feel better.

"Speaking of that... I'd like to pay half of the rent for the month," I say, bringing up the topic that had been swirling in my head since I arrived here. "I would also like to contribute to the shopping."

"You don't have to do that, Genesis. Seriously, it's not necessary."

"I know, but I want to. I don't want to feel like a burden," I reply honestly, trying to convey to him that I am determined to contribute in some way.

Logan nods slowly, as if he were processing my words.

"Okay. If that's what you want to do, I won't stop you. But only if you're sure about it," he says finally.

"I'm sure," I confirm, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I make that decision.

It was the least I could do.

"If you need anything, let me know, I'll be on the balcony for a few minutes but then I'll go to my room. All you have to do is knock on the door."

"Thank you very much, Logan," I give him the first genuine smile after hours of sobbing.

"Hey, anything for my groupies, right?" he laughs as he reaches for the doorknob to leave the room. I can't help but laugh along with him, infected by his energy. I grab one of the pillows and throw it at the door, but I don't manage to reach him before he closes it quickly.

Idiot.