• THALIA •
As soon as we entered the elegant ballroom, Warren got swamped with guests.
So I told him I needed to go to the toilet. Instead, I did a little exploring of the hidden hallways of the venue.
The whole place is absolutely breathtaking. It feels like I'm wandering the halls of a lost kingdom. And my prince is right outside.
I've been putting off going back out there for a while now. I need to brave it. I'll kick myself if I waste tonight.
So I walk back towards the ballroom, taking deep breaths and repeating the same words in my head:
No one's going to look at you
No one cares
That's what I tell myself whenever I'm out in public. I always dress safely. Wear my hair safely. Because in my head, I think everyone going to look at me. Judge me. Make fun of me.
But no one fucking cares.
No one's going to look at you
No one cares
I reach the double doors.
No one's going to look at you
No one cares
I pull open the right door and enter the ballroom.
My eyes frantically search for Warren, despite the fact that standing next to him will bring me more attention.
I find him instantly, he's like a magnet. There's a huge force that pulls me towards him. And it's hard to get away.
He's stood with a bunch of tall males.
I force my feet to move towards him.
No one's going to look at you
No one cares
Whenever someone laughs I think they're laughing at me.
No one's looking
No one cares
They're not laughing at me
Warren spots me and I see his lips move. Whatever he says causes all the men to turn their heads and look at me.
Oh my god
The breath gets knocked out of me.
Is the room spinning or is that just me?
Is my mind playing tricks on me?
Is that actually...them?!
Am I going crazy?
Mad?
Ballistic?
Tears sting my eyes.
No no no no no no no no
I can't cry
I can't
My eyes scan over all their faces. I don't think I'm going crazy, mad, or even ballistic.
They can't be seen with me. They can't. They're going to get hurt.
How do I get away? What do I do? I'm freaking out.
My heart is beating faster than I know it should.
I'm sweating profusely.
My legs is bouncing.
My eyes are wet.
My stomach feels like a knifes just been lodged into it.
"I'm uh- I'm gonna - I need the toilet." I splutter out, turn on my heel then get the fuck out of there.
I think I'm going to be sick
I rush to the bathroom. That's a lie, I rush to find the bathroom.
I check multiple doors, what's behind each one disappointing me every time.
I can feel the bile rising in my throat.
Don't
Have
Time
To find
A
Bathroom
I open another door, it leads to a little storage room.
I throw myself through the doorway and find a blue bucket with a mop in. I lift the mop out of the bucket and throw it to the side before crouching and throwing up.
I choke on my sick and use a hand to hold my hair back and the other hand to hold the rim of the bucket.
After getting rid of all food I've eaten for the last 24 hours, I lean against the wall and hug my legs to my chest. My cheeks are stained with tears and I know my eyes are surely bloodshot. My limbs are shaking and I just feel fucking sad.
The door swings open and a worried looking Warren stands in the doorway.
When his eyes meet mine he fuses to me and crouches on the floor. "Hey hey hey!" He says, desperately trying to soothe me. I think this is the first time Warren Rico hasn't had a smile on his face. And that scares the shit out of me.
My body melts into his chest as he runs his hand through my hair.
I sob into his shirt and clutch it with my hand.
He rubs circles on my back soothingly, making me feel safe.
The only other people that have made me feel safe are right outside.
"What's wrong, baby?" He asks quietly, his voice is calm but his eyes tell a different story.
"You need to get me out of here, nobody can see me." I stress, taking my head out off his chest.
"Why?"
"I just - I can't..."
My words and my shaken up state are enough for him to move to do what I asked. "Okay..."
But then the door bursts open.
7 men stand in the doorway looking like an army ready to kill. There's eyes telling a different story. To an outsider, they'd think that these boys were deadly calm. But to me, I know they're anything but. That scares me, freaks me out, and pushes me into a wall, the fact I know them.
I know their favoruite colours.
Favoruite food.
Favoruite shows.
Hobbies.
Little habits.
I know the way they love. And it's hard, a force of sweetness that hugs you and doesn't let you go. Not tight enough to make you feel claustrophobic. There's a leeway of space to let you breath. But the hug is still tight enough to protect you. From yourself. From the world. From the evil.
Each of their blue eyes tell different stories.
Matteo looks guilty.
Dom looks mad.
Bennu looks shocked.
Axel looks like he's about to punch a hole in the wall.
Nikolai looks annoyed but in an oddly calm way.
Gio looks hurt.
None of their expressions make me feel better than the other.
What I'm about to do dawns on me. Eats me up. Swallows me whole.
"You need to go."