Athena Tyler is an Italian-American musician who rose to fame as the lead singer of a girl band with her sisters, called 'Sorelle'. She has amassed millions of dollars and now lives alone in a luxurious mansion. Although she no longer sings, she has...
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With her brother's words echoing in her mind, Athena knew she had to make things right, not just for herself, but for Michael too. So she stood up from the red bleachers and made her way home, where she found Michael in his studio.
She hesitated as she sat down next to him, but she heard her brother's voice in her head again, saying "Woman up! Stop being stupid! If you don't swallow your pride, I will mess with the lights!"
"Michael?" Athena voiced.
Michael didn't reply, still using his father's advice. He needed her to see that being ignored and feeling unwanted was how she had made him feel for months now.
"Mikey?"
Despite the fact that Athena was genuinely remorseful and trying to get his attention, he simply continued working on his music, refusing to engage with her. Athena felt a pang of guilt in her chest, realizing the extent of the hurt she had caused him.
Taking a deep breath, she mustered up her courage and scooted closer before nuzzling into his side.
Michael dropped his pen at the sudden contact, "Oh, so now you want my attention?" he quipped, his voice tinged with hurt.
Athena winced at his words, knowing she deserved his cold demeanor after months of neglect, "I love you," she murmured, keeping her face buried in his side.
"Wha—well, if you love me so much then why have you been acting like you hate me?" Michael asked, his voice tinged with frustration and hurt, "Why do you all of a sudden want to be affectionate when you've been pushing me away for months?"
"Because Kayden told me I'm stupid. And the worst part is, he's not wrong," Athena admitted, "I....distanced myself because I was holding onto some kind of sisterly guilt after Kayden died and....I was punishing myself for it."
"Athena, look at me," Michael said, his voice still holding some frustration.
"No. I don't want you to see me like this," Athena muttered back, keeping her head hidden in his side, "My makeup is smudged. I look like a raccoon."
"Athena, let's not forget why you came in here," Michael said sternly, trying to keep his voice steady, even though the hurt and confusion were evident in his tone, "You can't just come in here and nuzzle up to me like that after all this time. I'm not some toy you can just pick up whenever you feel like it."
Athena could hear the pain in his voice, and it tore at her heart. She knew she had to make things right, for both of their sakes, "I know that," she muttered quietly.
Michael crossed his arms, "What are you doing, Athena?" he prompted, his voice softer now, "Please, look at me."
Finally, Athena lifted her head to meet his gaze. She saw the hurt and vulnerability in his eyes, mirroring her own feelings of guilt and regret.
