someone PLEASE make an edit of pazzi with these songs (i’ve been cooking up a list and pls tell me if there alr some good ones w them) or a fic based on these songs i’ll explain which one for each i have an idea for lol and these songs are also just like play in the background while reading type thing too lol and tag me if you use these ideas pleaseee and im sorry if i repeat songs i tried my best not to lol
you are in love - taylor swift
close to you - gracie abrams
i love you i’m sorry - gracie abrams (i think there is one i just can’t find it again 😔)
make you mine - public
red wine supernova - chappell roan 💞❤️🔥
king of my heart - taylor swift
good luck babe - chappell roan (self explanatory atp)
afterglow - taylor swift (a to p)
daylight - taylor swift
cornelia street - taylor swift (like never going back to uconn if that makes sense or something stupid idk figure it out lol)
les - childish gambino 💞❤️🔥 (like they’re in the club or ted’s)
heartbeat - childish gambino ❤️🩹💞❤️🔥 (in the club or ted’s and paige is forcing azzi out of there bc she is ready to go yk lol and also she is sorta jealous of az getting hit on by guys after they got into a fight or just take the lyrics like that but end up good in the end)
electric touch - taylor swift (i’ve been thinking ab this for like ever and im too lazy to make my own edit lol and if it was a fic like explaining how whenever they touch each other or are near each other they get extreme butterflies lol)
i can see you - taylor swift
we fell in love in october - girl in red (explaining their love story kinda)
you belong with me - taylor swift (each lyric describing paige pining over azzi in high school while listening to azzi complain abt her boyfriend)
fearless - taylor swift
enchanted - taylor swift
here with me - d4vd (sweet moment at the beach or something like the album cover)
national anthem - lana del ray (paige being fascinated by az [who wouldn’t be])
tongue tied - grouplove (lyrics)
animal - neon trees (lyrics)
pink pony club - chappell roan (all of uconn wbb kinda like the ‘pink pony club’ would be uconn bc its like college and you can be yourself)
until i found you (em beihold version) - stephen sanchez (i hate happy couples)
boyfriend - dove cameron (jealous p before she found out she was in love w az)
hey there delilah - plain white tees (like imagine them writing letters back and forth)
slim pickins - sabrina carpenter (one shot of them doing the tiktok trend)
sweet nothing - taylor swift (i pretty sure there is one but i just can’t find it 😔)
lover - taylor swift
paper rings - taylor swift
the alchemy - taylor swift (lyrics)
guilty as sin? - taylor swift
style - taylor swift
wildest dreams - taylor swift
harvey - alex g (yk that tt trend w this song like that but it’s written out w azzi taking care of paige if that makes sense)
treehouse - alex g
ribs - lorde (young pazzi)
so american - olivia rodrigo
birds of a feather - billie eilish
picture you - chappell roan
guilty pleasure - chappell roan
she’s my collar - gorillaz
r u mine? - artic monkeys
lovers rock - tv girl
a kiss - the driver era
feel you now - driver era
yellow - coldplay
lovesong - the cure
just like heaven - the cure
friday i’m in love - the cure
apocalypse - cigarettes after sex
sunsetz - cigarettes after sex
linger - the cranberries
snow on the beach - taylor swift ft lana del ray
golden - harry styles
time to pretend - mgmt
kids - mgmt
disco - surf curse
invisible string - taylor swift
die with a smile - bruno mars ft lady gaga
beautiful boy - john lennon
sofia - clairo
kids - current joys
girls and boys - blur
sailor song - gigi perez (i alr know there’s a few but still yk)
pretty fly (for a white guy) - the offspring (more just for an edit for paige but still lol)
as it was - harry styles
livin la vida loca - ricky martin
closer - nine inch nails (for p really and ik someone will make it lol)
lunch - billie eilish
love story - taylor swift
delicate - taylor swift
mastermind - taylor swift
bags - clairo
glue song - beabadoobee
watch you sleep - girl in red
california girls - the beach boys
don’t trust a hoe - 30h!3
my strange addiction- billie eilish
love me anyway - chappell roan
bad kids - black lips (more of a whole uconn wbb edit song)
my love mine all mine - mitski
the great war - taylor swift
piano man - billy joel (i think i have to explain it bc it sounds like it’ll be sad which yes in my head it would be but also sweet like the lyrics ‘bill i believe this is killing me’ but instead of bill it would be azzi and the clip would be p at the bench when she couldn’t play w her torn acl [im sorry 😓] and and it would just be a sad edit really of p like not playing with az the whole time there tg and how she’s leaving and their injuries)
i love you so - the walters (bittersweet leaving for the wnba)
pretty girls - renee rapp
not my fault - renee rapp (more of an azzi edit just like fun and girly yk)
never grow up - taylor swift
how you get the girl - taylor swift
i wanna be your girlfriend - girl in red
girls - girl in red
say anything - girl in red
juna - clairo
after midnight - chappell roan
kaleidoscope- chappell roan
i invented sex - trey songz ft drake
ecstasy (slowed) - suicidal-idol
cupids chokehold/breakfast in america - gym class heroes
the adults are talking - the strokes
talk too much - coin
mr brightside - the killers
somebody told me - the killers
agora hills - doja cat
freak - doja cat
chemistry - gigi perez
fable - gigi perez ❤️🩹(p)
mirrorball - taylor swift
tumblr girls - g-eazy
nobody gets me - sza
love language - sza
halley’s comet - billie eilish
my boo - usher feat alicia keys
iris - pastel ghost
ocean eyes - billie eilish
it’s nice to have a friend - taylor swift
i think he knows - taylor swift
all the stars - kendrick lamar ft sza
sidelines - phoebe bridgers
teenage girl - cherry glazer
every breath you take - the police
teenage dirtbag - wheatus
dress - taylor swift
no. 1 party anthem - artic monkeys
last nite - the strokes
505 - artic monkeys
why’d you only call me when you’re high - artic monkeys
guess - charli xcx ft billie eilish
anxious - ginuwine
white girl - shy glizzy
wrong way - sublime
you’re invited - the dare
girls - the dare
just can’t get enough- depeche mode
the diner - billie eilish
pretty boy - the neighbourhood
femininomenon - chappell roan
cake by the ocean - dnce
please me - cardi b and bruno mars
sweater weather - the neighbourhood
you get me so high - the neighbourhood
21 guns - green day
symphonia IX - current joys
oxytocin - billie eilish
need a freak - mighty bay
hot demon b!tches near u ! ! ! - corpse
pornstar - nessa barrett
everlong - foo fighters
we are the people - empire of the sun
call it what you want - taylor swift
so i’m too lazy to explain the rest of them so pls message me if you want me to elaborate bc i have so many ideas im just too lazy to write them out here lol and i might come back later to write out some explanations too
I can't get her out of my mind, I think about the girl all the time ᥫ᭡
pairing: mechanic! paige bueckers x model! azzi fudd
synopsis: azzi’s old and beat up car has a lot of problems. thankfully, there’s a really hot mechanic who can fix said problems. —> playlist to listen to while you read
contains: Azzi being down bad horrendously, Azzi has a praise kink, suggestive language, teasing, munch! azzi, mutual filthy thoughts, dirty jokes & dirty talk, azzi being a giver, fingering, slight overstimulation, a little bit of dom azzi.
wc: 13.1k
authors note: hello, I hope you guys enjoy reading this story as much as i enjoyed writing it. :) like always feel free to come to my inbox to tell your thoughts on this story.
…
A loud strike sound came from the sky as it grumbled. Another fall of heavy rain fell onto Azzi's— already soaked—body. The bright glow of the full moon reflected onto her body, along with the other headlights that came from the cars passing her.
Azzi was currently standing on the side of the highway with the front hood of the car up and propped against a metal stick. "Fuck," she cursed under her breath. A gust of wind flew through the air causing her body to shiver.
Of course, this damn car would break down in a middle of a thunderstorm, Azzi thought. She stared at the unknown parts in front of her— lost, not knowing what to even do.
She let out a sigh that was filled with annoyance. Azzi closed the hood of the car and walked over to the driver's door and got in. She whipped her wet hands onto her jeans before she grabbed her phone and dialed the closest dealership to her.
After two ringers someone picked up the phone. "Hello?" Azzi said, her heart pumped rapidly with adrenaline as she talked.
"Hello, this is Paige Bueckers speaking, how may I help you?”
Azzi bit her lip. "Um…so I'm kinda like stuck on the side of the highway and my car won't start. Usually, I can hit the dashboard a few times and then it will turn on but it's not working." Her voice shook as she talked through the speaker.
A faint laugh was heard at the other end. "Do you want me to come get you? We do offer a towing service so we can get your car and bring it back to the shop. But there will cos—"
"Paige. Just come get me. I’m scared right now because these cars beside me are flying by and I'm cold." Azzi said, cutting Paige off. Her voice was stern but also filled with anxiety that she wasn't trying to show.
"Okay, what highway are you on?"
"Highway I-34. Now, please hurry," She pleaded. The rain outside was getting worse and another strike of lightning sparked in the dark gray sky.
The sound of a loud door closing came from the other end. "Do you want me to stay on the phone with you? I'm on my way now," Paige rasped out before the engine of her truck roared.
"Yes, please," Azzi said softly.
A few minutes of silence had passed by. Azzi's eyes stared outside the window beside her, watching all of the chaos that was happening on the road. "What kinda car do you drive again? I'm just now merging onto the highway so it shouldn't take me long to get you."
"I'm pulled over on a side of a bridge. My car is white and it has a huge dent beside the license plate. I'm also right in front of this green sign that says, 'exit 412 is in 1.5 miles.'"
Paige let out a hum in understanding. "Okay, I know where that is. I'm speeding right now so I should be there in about five minutes."
The sound of Paige's voice sooth Azzi's anxiety a little. "Okay," she said. Azzi closed her eyes for second listening to the sound of Paige breathing on the other end of the phone.
The brunette didn't even know she had fallen asleep until she woke up from a knocking sound coming from her window. One of her hands shot up to rest just above her racing heart. Jesus, she thought.
Azzi turned her head over to the window and jumped a little when she saw a figure standing outside of her car with a hoodie over its head.
Oh, wait, Azzi thought to herself when she realized it was Paige. She grabbed her phone, and purse and opened the door.
"Fuck, you scared me in there. I thought you had passed out," Paige said, reaching her arms out to help Azzi out of the car.
Once Azzi's feet planted on the ground Paige took her hands off of the girl's waist. She inched her hands down to pull the oversized hoodie she had on over her head. Paige then pulled her hoodie over Azzi's body that was shaking. The brunette was in nothing but jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
"Here you go," Paige said, not even batting an eye at how the rain was soaking her clothes. The bright orange hazard lights of Paige's tow truck reflected onto their bodies causing Azzi to squint a little.
Azzi smiled up at the blonde, making her dimples pop out. "But, wait-. Now you are getting soaked," she said referring to the way Paige's white shirt was now see through and hugging her body.
Paige shook her head. "It's fine don't worry about it." She brushed off. "Here, go sit in the truck while I hook your car onto the back of mine. I don't want you being out in the rain anymore longer you're going to get sick."
The brunette's cheeks turned a faint rosy, red color at that and her breath was caught in her throat. "Okay," she said she was too tired to even argue that Paige will—more than likely—get sick as well.
When Azzi got into the truck it smelt faintly of men's cologne. She turned her head over the passenger seat watching as Paige hooked her car up to the trailer. Her eyes lingered on the way Paige's arms flexed. They trailed down to the blonde's stomach where you could see the girls faint abs that were on display through her shirt.
Fuck, she's hot.
She bit the inside of her lip watching Paige like she was the most interesting and beautiful person she's has ever seen. Her eyes widened a bit when Paige started walking over to the drive side of the truck.
Azzi sat upright in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. She dropped her eyes down to her lap, picking at her cuticles and tried to act as nonchalant as possible. When the door opened, she cocked her head over to Paige, watching as she held the handle on the side of the door to get in the truck.
Paige let out a grunt when her ass hit the seat. "You do know that the back window isn't tinted right?"
Oh, fuck me, Azzi thought.
"How was I supposed to know that?" Azzi huffed out. She kissed her teeth and frowned at Paige. "I was just trying to make sure nothing bad was gonna happen to you," she lied.
The blonde just shot Azzi a look. "Right," Paige said, before she shifted her truck into drive and put on her left turning signal.
Azzi tapped her fingers on her thighs not really knowing what to do. She just met the girl, and she already got caught checking her out. But in all honesty, she was just admiring the view.
Paige cleared her throat, "so…what's your name? I don't think you told me it yet," she said, breaking the silence.
"M' names Azzi." One of her legs started to bounce up and down while she bit her bottom lip until it stung.
"Oh! Like Jenifer Azzi."
The brunette tilted her head to the side. She looked at Paige with a confused look. "Who?" She asked.
Now it was Paige's turn to become embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just I'm a really big fan or women's basketball and that's a basketball player," she explained.
"Ohh. Now that you say that I remember my parents telling me multiple times that they name me after her. They are also fans of women's basketball and the WNBA." Azzi said softly. The painful beating in her chest started to calm down as she felt herself start to become comfortable.
Paige took her eyes off of the road to look at Azzi for a second. She shot her a smile so big that it made her nose scrunch up.
Can this girl get any cuter?, Azzi thought at how cute Paige looked with her nose scrunched.
"That's so cool," Paige said. Her voice was filled with excitement. The conversation between them started to flow more to where the two were laughing at each other's jokes.
When Paige pulled up to the dealership, she put her truck in park and looked at Azzi. "Wait here," she said, before she got out the car and walked over to Azzi's passenger door. She opened the door and helped Azzi out of the car like she couldn't do it for herself.
"Thank you," Azzi said.
They walked side by side over to the entrance door. Paige held the door open for Azzi allowing her to walk into the dealership first before she trailed behind her. "Okay, let's get you some clean clothes," Paige said, grabbing onto Azzi's hand to walk her over to her office—well that's what Azzi assumed they were going.
Azzi shivered as she stood in front of Paige's desk. The room was ice cold from the air conditioner that was in the wall. She watched as Paige went behind her desk and pulled out a pile of clothes that were neatly folded in one of her desks draws.
"You have extra clothes in your office?" Azzi asked as she reached out to take the clothes Paige held out for her.
Paige nodded her head. "Yeah, sometimes when I'm working on cars and I'm by myself I change into more comfortable clothes only when what I'm doing is not anything dangerous to wear I need protective clothing. And when I'm doing oil changes things can get…messy so I just have an extra pair just in case to be safe," she explained.
The whole time she talked Azzi couldn't help but admire the way her arms flexed uncontrollably. "That makes sense," Azzi responded. What didn't make sense was how she was already down bad for this girl she had just met. It was unlike her and it honestly confused her on why her body was acting this way.
Am I ovulating? Azzi thought, thinking of reasons on why she was acting like this. She made a small mental note in her head to check her Flo app when she goes to change.
"The bathroom are down the hall to the right," Paige informed. She pointed out down the hall that they could see through the glass door of her office. "And I will be in here," she then pointed at the service department." she then said pointing to the door that was on the left side of them.
Azzi nodded her head. "Where do you want me to go after that?"
Paige smirked. "You can wait out in the lobby, or you can go me while I work on your car. Either one is fine," she said with a shrug.
"Okay," Azzi said. She gave Paige one last smile before she opened the door and headed to the restrooms. The brunette took about ten minutes in the bathroom to change into the gray baggy sweats Paige gave her and a black wife beater.
She held her wet clothes in her arms as she made her way back into Paige's office and to the door that would lead her to Paige. Azzi sat her clothes down onto a chair that was up-against a wall. She eased her way over to Paige who was in front of her car where her hood was popped open.
"Do you think you know why it won't start?" Azzi asked.
Paige jumped a bit. "Shit-, you scared me." Her arms and fingers were coated with oil, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail.
"Sorry," she apologized. Azzi stopped to where now she was standing beside Paige. The raided pounding that was in her chest earlier was now back from how there arms touched.
"I'm pretty sure it's your battery. I'm gonna have to replace it. With how the battery looks I can tell that you have jump started your car many times and that can cause your battery to become weak."
Azzi's cheeks flushed, "ooh, that makes sense." She lied.
Paige turned her head to look over at Azzi because of how unconvincing her voice sounded. "You don't understand a word I'm sayin', huh?" Paige let a small laugh at the end of her sentence. Her arms were now crossed in front of her chest as she bit the bottom of her lip to hold back a small grin.
"Damn, was it that obvious?"
Paige laughed at the pout that formed on Azzi's face. "Yeah, but it's okay. Do you wanna help me while I replace your battery?"
Azzi raised an eyebrow at that. "By doing what? I don't know shit about cars," she said blankly causing Paige to let out another laugh, but this one was louder and more real. "Plus, I can't get my nails dirty. I have a photo shoot in a few days, and they would lose their minds if my hands and nails get fucked up." She added on, looking down at her nails.
"Ma, that's why we have gloves. They will protect your precious hands, and we have goggles that will protect your eyes and most of your face." Paige didn't even register the nickname she said to Azzi it just slipped out like it was natural. It felt natural to call her that.
The brunette bit her lip. "I guess. But if anything happens you're taking the blame for it," she said with a fake serious tone.
Paige put her hands up in surrender, "for sure," she said before she walked off to grab the safety equipment, and her toolbox.
After ten minutes had passed by Azzi was more off to the side by a blue toolbox dressed in protective gear. her eyes were locked on Paige's arms, daydreaming and imaging how they would feel if they were wrapped around her neck.
"Ma, can you hand me the socket wrench?" Paige called out. She extended her free hand out and opened her palm for Azzi to place the tool in.
Azzi blinked. "The what?" She asked, her brows were wrinkled. She looked at Paige and then down at the toolbox just starting at the tools—that she did not know the name of.
Paige stopped what she was doing to walk closer over to Azzi. She rammed through the toolbox, "this is what it looks like," she said holding the tool up to Azzi so she could see better.
"Ohh, I'm sorry. I'm not really good at this whole knowing the names of the tools and knowing what they look like game," Azzi apologized.
The blonde shrugged her shoulders, "it's okay mama. We can work on it," she said before she went back to changing the battery.
Azzi stared down at the concrete floor below her lost in her own mind. What does she mean that? she thought. Eventually, Azzi had shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Stop assuming things Fudd, she thought before bringing her attention back onto Paige to admire the view.
It wasn't until five minutes later Paige said something again. "Can you hand me the flathead screwdriver, princess?" She asked, already holding her hand out but didn't take her eye off of the parts in front of her.
The brunette looked down in the toolbox and grabbed the screwdriver. She placed it into Paige's hand without saying anything; she just watched the mechanic beside her.
Paige turned her head to look at the tool in her hand. "Good job, mama," she praised, referring to Azzi giving her the right tool.
Azzi's cheeks burned at the praise. Her heart went into a complete stop while she just froze. She stayed like that until Paige was done fixing her car. The praise repeated in her head multiple times causing her ears to ring.
The loud noise that came from Paige closing her hood brought her back to life. "Alright, that should do it," she said as she took off her gloves and goggles.
"It's good?" Azzi asked, her words were shaky.
The blonde nodded her head once. "Yep. It shouldn't give you anymore issues," Paige trailed off as she examined Azzi's car, "I hope…" she added.
"What do I do if it does give me issues?" She asked. After Azzi had said her question her cheeks burned an even more red color at how stupid the question was.
Paige turned her head at Azzi and licked her lips. "You go to the nearest repair shop, duh," she teased. Before Azzi could say anything Paige quickly added: "sorry ma, you walked right into that one but if anything does happen, I can fix it, I got you."
Azzi relaxed a bit at Paige's words. "Thank you," she said politely, rocking a bit on her heels out of awkwardness. "Do you have a business card I can take? Just in case if something does happen."
The blonde smiled as she reached into her pocket and handed Azzi her business card. "Do you feel comfortable driving in the rain?"
"Yeah, I should be fine. I live like five minutes away from here."
Just as Paige was about to start walking Azzi out a realization hit her. "Wait-, I need to pay you," Azzi said stopping dead in her tracks.
"nah-, don't worry about it. It's free," Paige said, waving her off.
Azzi raised an eyebrow and gave Paige a look. "What? That doesn't even make sense," she brought her hand up to scratch her head.
Paige rolled her eyes and gave Azzi a look. "Ma, just say 'okay.' I'm not gonna argue about this with you. I already made my decision," her voice was hard and filled with seriousness.
"Fine. But can I at least pay for the towing fee," she pleaded, rolling her eyes up at Paige and pouted.
The blonde narrowed her eyes while she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Write down you're address so I can mail you the bill." Paige walked over to grab a pen and paper so Azzi could do as she said.
Azzi smirked and took the pen and paper. She did what she was told and handed it back to Paige. "Thank you again for helping me." She said, once she and Paige finally made it back to the service department where her car was.
Paige nodded her head and gave the brunette a smile. "Of course, Azzi. It was nice meeting you," she said, shaking hands with the girl before they parted ways.
From Paige's office window she watched as Azzi drove off. She let out a sigh and crumbled the paper that had Azzi's address on it and threw it away. Paige packed up her things and walked out to her car. Her head was pounding from exhaustion. her shift had ended right as Azzi called her pleading for help and how could she say 'no'.
Which she was honestly really happy that she did pick up the phone because of the beautiful girl she had just met.
…
A MONTH LATER
"Caroline, you don't understand that was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." Azzi explained, before she took another sip of her tea. She had been talking about Paige non-stop ever since she left the dealership.
Caroline rolled her eyes. "Azzi. You say that about every blonde headed masc you see out in public," she grumbled.
A small groan fell from Azzi's mouth. She set her own empty mug into her sink, "but she was different and so sweet but also a tease at the same time." She was blushing from just talking about Paige.
"Maybe you should go see her again."
Azzi's eyes widened at that. "Ugh, I want to. I'm just nervous," she explained, crossing her arms around her chest for comfort.
Caroline just gave Azzi a look. "Az. Stop making up excuses and go see her. You know you are gonna regret it if you don't. Just follow what your heart tells you and your gut."
"Damn, that was... actually good advice" Azzi mumbled out, stunned at the words that fell from Caroline's mouth.
"Well, I'm tired of you sulking that you are single but then when you actually meet someone you chicken out and don't make a move. Like I love you, I really do but Azzi the way you are talking about Paige I don't think you should pass this chance up."
Azzi bit her lip, "I guess you're right. I'll go by the dealership today."
Later that afternoon, Azzi had stopped by her mailbox after she was done running her errands. She skimmed through the envelopes looking to see Paige's name on one of them but there wasn't. She kissed her teeth going through that stack again just for extra measures. And she was right Paige never sent her the bill like she was supposed to.
Welp, I guess now I do have an excuse to go to the dealership, she thought.
When she drove home, she ran inside her house really quick to grab the—already washed— clothes Paige had given her that night and the business card that she kept. It was about two minutes into her drive when an unknown warning light came up on her dash.
You have got to be kidding me.
Azzi let out a groan and stepped on the gas. When she got to the dealership she parked her car, grabbed her purse and phone and made her way inside the building. She walked up to the front desk that was right in front of the door. "Hello, sorry to bother but I'm looking for Paige," Azzi said politely to the women who was behind the desk.
The worker looked up from her computer, "do you have an appointment?" she asked in a not so nice way.
"Um, no I do not." Azzi responded weakly. The way the elder women was looking at her made her throat tighten.
"Sorry ma'am but you have to have an appoint—," the worker was cut off by another voice interfering with their conversation.
"Azzi?" Paige asked.
When Azzi turned her head over to where Paige's voice was heard her breath hitched. Paige had on a backwards hat. And had her hair in a low messy bun. She licked her lips at the sight. "Hey, sorry do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you."
Paige nodded her head. "Yeah, I have a second. Let's go to my office," she said, waving Azzi over to follow after her.
Azzi walked behind Paige and once the blonde closed the door behind her, she dropped her act. "Paige," she hissed crossing her arms over her chest while she gave her a grumpy look.
"What's wrong, ma?"
The brunette ignored the fuzzy feeling of Paige called her that nickname. "Why did you never send me the bill like you said you would?"
Paige let out a small laugh. "Damn, I didn't know you were gonna be this upset." She mumbled underneath her breath causing Azzi to narrow her eyes at her.
"M'sorry, I forgot." She lied with a shrug.
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Well now that I'm here, I can just pay for it upfront." She said, unzipping her purse to grab her wallet.
The blonde quickly walked over to Azzi and stopped her from taking her wallet out. "Nah-, don't worry 'bout it. It's fine I promise."
Azzi rolled her eyes up at Paige and just stared at her. "But I want to pay for it Paige," she said softly way softer than she was just talking a few seconds ago. Azzi was too focused on how there was no space in between them to even realize that Paige was still holding onto her wrist.
Paige's eyes fell to her lips then back up to her eyes. "Fine. I guess you can pay for it," she grumbled, folding instantly from how Azzi was looking at her. Paige shook her head in disbelief as she walked over to her desk to her computer. She then walked back to Azzi with a phone in her hand that had a card reader.
She clicked a few button before she flipped the phone over to Azzi allowing her to pay. Paige walked back over to her desk to grab the receipt that had printed out after Azzi paid. "Here you go princess." Paige said as she handed her the paper. She made sure to show her annoyance as she talked wanting Azzi to know that she wasn't happy.
"Thank you," Azzi said with a small. She took the paper from Paige hand with a satisfied grin on her face. "Oh! and now that I'm here are you able to look at my car really quick? A random emoji popped up on my dashboard on my way over here and I don't know what it means," Azzi explained.
Paige tilted her head to the side a little in confusion. "Do you mean a warning light?"
"Ohh, that's what it's called."
Paige face palmed her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Azzi, babe. You're actually starting to scare me because you don't know this stuff."
Azzi just rolled her eyes. "Why do I need to know that stuff when I have you?"
The blonde raised both of her brows at the girl in front of her and licked her lips. "I guess that's a fair point. Come on let's go see what's wrong with your car," Paige said before she held the door open for Azzi.
Paige and Azzi walked close together in the parking lot. Azzi had opened the drives door for Paige allowing her to get in and start the car. "It's just telling you that you need an engine oil change."
Azzi let out a sigh in relief, "thank goodness, It's nothing major."
"Yeah, if you want you can come back tomorrow and I can change it." Paige told her as she got out the car.
The brunette nodded her head. "That sounds good. Can I come around one?"
"Yeah, that's fine. I'll make sure to make you an appointment when I go back inside so the front desk lady doesn't give you any trouble."
Azzi smiled at that. "Thank you so much," she said, wrapping her arms around Paige's waist to hug her. Paige leaned into the hug wrapping her arms around Azzi's neck. She left herself relax at the feeling of Azzi's body against hers.
When they parted, they were both a blushing mess. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Azzi said, before she stepped foot into her car.
Paige bit the inside of her cheek. "I can't wait," she replied, giving her one last wave before she walked off.
When Azzi shut her car door she felt like she could finally breathe properly again. She watched Paige walk back into the building not being able to help herself. Azzi then leaned over her consol to unzip her purse. She took out the recipe Paige had given her earlier and inspected it.
Oh, you got to be kidding me, she thought when she saw that Paige had given her a fifty percent discount.
...
THE NEXT DAY
Azzi woke up bright and early the next day. She sat on her couch binge watching her favorite tv show while she waited for time to pass. Once the clock hit eleven am she started to get ready. Azzi picked out a dark brown mini skirt and paired it with a white shirt sleeve button up. The neckline on the shirt was a V-neck causing the valley of her breast to be on display—but not too much.
She put on white fuzzy leg warmers that stopped just under her kneecap. For her shoes she went with a pair of black vintage boots that stopped just below where the leg warmers stopped. For her accessories, she put on some random gold hoops and necklaces. Azzi turned in front of her mirror to look over her outfit one last time before she left the house.
As she walked over to her front door, she grabbed her purse that was hanging on a hook and grabbed her keys. The drive to the shop was smooth luckily no other warning light popped up on her there. Azzi touched up on her lip liner and lip gloss before she got out the car and headed inside the building.
"Hello, I have an appointment at one today," Azzi said kindly to the lady who had gave her trouble yesterday.
The worker behind the desk stopped typing on her keyboard and looked up at Azzi for a split second. "Name?"
"Azzi Fudd." She responded with a small smile. It fell off her face when the worker didn't give her one back. Damn, what is up her ass today?" Azzi thought to herself.
"Okay, you can take a seat in the lobby and Paige should be with you shortly."
Azzi nodded her head once in response. She picked a seat that was in a corner away from the other people who were also waiting. When she sat down, she crossed her legs together and started to flatten out the nonexistent wrinkles on her shirt.
She instantly fixed her posture in her chair when she saw a familiar blonde in the corner of her eye. Azzi lost her train of thought as she took in Paige's outfit. She was in a white tank top that hugged her body. Her arms were painted with—what looked like—oil and the arms of her gray safety coveralls were wrapped around her waist.
When Paige got closer to her butterflies started to swarm in Azzi's stomach. Paige's blonde hair was slicked back into a low bun, and she had the same backwards hat on from yesterday. "Wasssup, ma, you look beautiful," Paige said.
Azzi blushed. "Hey," she said softly. Just when Azzi was about to lean in to hug Paige the blonde stopped her.
"I'm covered in oil princess. I don't wanna ruin your shirt," she explained.
The brunette just rolled her eyes and hugged Paige anyway. "It's fine. I could care less about the shirt," she mumbled, resting the side of her cheek onto Paige's chest before pulling away after a second.
Paige bit back a smile. "So…do you have your keys on you so I can move your car?" Her voice wasn't filled with the confidence it always has it was shy and filled with nervousness.
Azzi reached in her purse to give her keys to Paige. "Here you go. Do you want me to wait in the lobby while you work on it?"
"I mean, you can go in the shop with me if you want. There's no one in there except me for right now." Paige offered. Her face was a vibrant red color as she spoke.
"I won't be a bother if I go with you, right?"
Paige just gave Azzi a look. "Be for real ma, you would never be a bother. Here you can go wait in my office while I get your car in the shop," she said, reaching into her pant pocket and placed a silver key into Azzi's palm.
"Okay," Azzi responded before they parted ways. She waited patiently in Paige's office and practically ran out the office when Paige got out of her car.
"Do you wanna be my little assistant for a bit?" Paige asked Azzi as she walked around the shop to grab the tools and supplies she needed.
Azzi bit the inside of her cheek her eyes watches as Paige moved effortlessly around the room not knowing what she was doing to her. How can someone look so hot without even trying?
"Azzi," Paige said with a stern tone in her voice. A small pout was on her face from the brunette ignoring her.
Azzi jumped. "Oh shit-, sorry I zoned out. What were you trying to tell me?"
Paige just shook her head and let out a small laugh. "I asked if you wanted to be my assistant for a second." She repeated for the second time.
"Oh, yes, of course. I would like that," Azzi automatically regretted her words when they left her mouth. She mumbled out a small 'fuck,' silently hoping that Paige didn't take her words the wrong way.
The blonde smirked. "You would like that? Being my helper?" A small grin was on her face while she looked at Azzi. The brunette could tell just by looking at Paige's eyes that there were many thoughts swarming in her head.
Well, yes actually, Azzi thought. I would actually love it.
Azzi raised one of her eyebrows. "Yeah," she trailed off not really knowing what Paige was going on about. "I like being able to help people whenever I can. I actually love helping people. It's one of my favorite things to do," she added on, trying to clarify what she meant. Her voice was filled with innocents.
Paige's grin deepened. "Yeah? Are you like that in every type of situation you're in?" She said as she licked her lips.
Azzi tilted her head to the side staring at Paige with a confused look as she tried to figure out what she was talking about. After a second it hit her causing her body to freeze up and her face all the way down to her neck turned red.
She was at lost for words. Azzi eyes bulged out of her head. She cleared her throat to find her voice, "do you wanna find out?" Now it was her turn to have a shit eating grin on her face.
Paige bit the bottom of her lip until it hurt. Her blue eyes looked up and down at Azzi bluntly checking the girl out in front of her not caring about Azzi catching her. "Anyways, let's fix your car it's not gonna fix itself," she said, changing the subject.
She probably wouldn't have a job if she didn't change the subject. Well, unless they went into her office and shut all of the blinds-, Paige had to quickly shut that thought off before she actually went through with it.
Paige rested her back against a gray creeper and pushed herself underneath Azzi's car. "Hey ma, can you pass me that black bin that is beside your feet?" Paige called out.
Azzi did the best she could to push the bin further over by Paige's waist. "Sorry, my skirt is too short for me to bend over," she apologized.
"It's okay," Paige brushed off. She grabbed the side of the bin and put it directly under the plug that held bad oil. Once all the oil poured into the bucket she lightly pushed back towards Azzi. "Be careful I don't want that oil to stain your shirt."
"I will," Azzi said softly as she carefully pushed the filled bucket over to the side out of everyone way.
She helped Paige up from her creeper when she wheeled back from underneath the car. Azzi let go of Paige's hand to hold the side of the girl's face.
Her thumb whipped across Paige's cheek and without even realizing she had pulled Paige closer to her with only an inch and a half between them.
Azzi didn't even bat an eye at the closeness until she looked up and made eye contact with Paige's hooded eyes. "Sorry, you had oil on your face. I was tryin' to help," Azzi mumbled. Her breath hitched at how Paige's eyes dropped from her lips and stayed there.
When she licked her bottom lip Paige's eyes followed her tongue. Azzi moved to place her left hand onto the side of Paige's neck while her other one still held onto the girl's face. "Can I kiss you?" Azzi asked.
Paige nodded her head and launched herself forward closing the gap between them. She kissed Azzi like her lips were made of glass. The brunette followed her slow pace allowing Paige to take the lead and call the shots.
The pace changed when Paige grabbed onto Azzi's waist and pulled her front closer to her. She rested her hands low on Azzi's hips whipping her tongue over Azzi's bottom lip silently asking for entrance.
Azzi let out a small whimper before she opened her mouth giving Paige's tongue access to explore every crevice in her mouth. A small trail of saliva trailed down the corner of Azzi's lip and onto her chin.
Another moan was heard from Azzi's mouth and swallowed by Paige's as their tongues tied together. The brunette pulled back for a quick second taking a breather. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest rose and fell rapidly as her lungs desperately fought for oxygen.
When Azzi opened her eyes, she looked down at Paige's lips admiring how puffy and red they were. There was a red wine color stain around the blonde's mouth from Azzi's lips combo transferring over to her mouth.
It took Azzi's mind a second to process everything that had just happened. "Oh, crap, I'm so sorry," she apologized, her eyes were now filled with fear.
Paige licked her lips and tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean? Why are you sorry?"
"I just kissed you," Azzi said, her voice was filled with panic. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
Paige just laughed. "Azzi, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I promise and I enjoyed the kiss," she admitted with a smug look.
Azzi let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god, I got scared for a second."
"Did you enjoy the kiss?" The mechanic asked looking deep into Azzi's eyes in the process.
The model let out a small hum while she tapped her chin with her pointer finger. "I think you are gonna have to kiss me again before I answer that question. I need another taste," she stated, with a wide grin.
The blonde playfully rolled her eyes. "I guess," she mumbled acting as if the first kiss didn't leave her boxers a sticky mess. Paige grabbed onto the side of Azzi's face to drag her towards her face. This kiss was more harsh, deep, both of them were fighting for dominance this time.
The pace left Azzi speechless and dazed. Before they pulled away completely Paige sucked on Azzi's tongue and bit at her bottom lip. She pulled away with a smirk knowing exactly what she was doing to the girl in front of her.
"How was that?"
Azzi licked her lips. Her lip combo was completely gone along with some of her self-control. "Amazing. 10/10. Would you like me to go on the dealership website and leave a review on how good of a kisser you are?"
Paige rolled her eyes and fought back a smile. "Hmm, no because then all my customers are gonna think I give out kisses for free."
"Oh, they aren't?"
Paige just narrowed her eyes at Azzi. "For you it's different." Her tone was serious as she talked.
Azzi nodded her head in approval. Those words did something to her making her heart double in size and the ache in between her legs worse. She wrapped her arms around Paige's neck to pull her into a hug.
They stayed in that position until Paige opened her mouth again. "Don't get me wrong I love touching you but I gotta finish up with your car. I have another client coming soon," Paige said making Azzi pout a little.
"Okay, I won't bother you anymore."
Paige's eyes widened at Azzi's words. "Nah-, you're not bother me you're distracting me. And it's hard for me to focus when you look like that and looking at me with that look in your eye.
Azzi felt a wave of confidence wash over her body from the effect she had on Paige. "Oh, and also I'm paying for this service. Without a discount this time," she clarified.
"Fuck, I didn't think you were gonna notice that." Paige grumbled out as all the color drained from her face.
"I did and you better not do it again this time."
The mechanic put her hands up in surrender. "Alright, I won't do it again," she lied.
...
The ache in Azzi's feet shot up to her legs. She walked on her tip toes to her car from her heels being sore. The three-hour photo shoot she just finished really did a toll on her body—mainly her feet from the heels she had to wear the whole time.
She reached into her purse to grab her keys. When she opened the door of her car, she let out a groan when her bottom hit the seat cushion. Azzi's few seconds of peace only last about two minutes. When she went to start her car a loud screeching noise was heard from the car refusing to start.
Azzi let off the break with a groan. After a moment she tried to start her car again only for it to make an even louder noise that sounded nothing but expensive. A small cry came from her lips out of defeat.
Without hesitation she reached for her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She clicked on the dealership Paige worked at and hit call. The phone rang for a second time before someone had pickd up the call.
"Hello, my name is Paige how can I help you today?" She said in a friendly manner on the other end of the phone.
"Paige?" Azzi said softly into the speaker.
Paige tone instantly changed at how stressed and weak Azzi's voice sounded. "Azzi? You okay ma? Why do you sound like that?" Panic filled the mechanic's voice.
"My car is not starting again."
"Have you ever considered getting a new car? This one has given you so much trouble recently."
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Paige," she groaned into the phone. "That's not important right now. Can you come get me please?"
"Yeah, are you wanting to come back to the shop or do you want me to take you home?" Azzi could hear Paige start her truck on the other end of the phone it was the same noise she heard a month ago.
"So…how's your day been?"
Even though Azzi was not in the best mood she couldn't fight back the smile that formed on her face. "Stressful. The shoes they had me wear for a photo shoot hurt so bad and they wouldn't let me take them off. Not to mention that the dress I was in was so uncomfortable," she complained.
"That sucks I'm so sorry ma. Also where are you at exactly? I kinda got distracted and I had to pull over for a second."
Azzi palmed her face mad that she forgot to tell Paige where she was. "Fuck I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner I'm so tired right now. I'm behind the northwest mall. It's those big tan building that are off to the side."
Paige made a noise. "I thought that shit was abandon building because I've never seen anyone there." She said as she pulled out of a random parking lot to head that way.
The brunette let out a small laugh. "Honestly, I thought the same thing too. I was so sketched out when I first came here for one of my shoots," Azzi explained, looking out the window. The dark gray clouds that were coming her way caught her eye.
Fuck, please don't start pouring, Azzi thought to herself. She let out a loud sulking noise when rainwater started to splatter onto her car right after she thought that.
"You okay?" Paige asked, her voice filled with question.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine. It just started raining."
"Do you have a jacket? I'm pulling up so I should be there in a second."
Azzi throat bobbed. "No, I don't have a jacket," she said softly as if Paige was going to get mad at her.
"It's okay I have one in my truck you can use," Paige told her just as she pulled up into the driveway.
The model watched as Paige got out of the truck with a hoodie in her hands. She was wearing a plain white shirt with some dark navy baggy jeans. Like ways she had a black backwards hat on, and her blonde hair was slicked back into a low bun.
Azzi had come to the conclusion that she needed to burn that damn hat. She doesn't know how much longer she is gonna be able to control herself with how good Paige looked with it on. Azzi got out the car and walked over to Paige to meet her halfway.
Both of the girl's fell into each other's warmth. Azzi had a huge smile on her face while she buried it into Paige's chest. The moment didn't last long because of how the rain started to pick up branching their clothes.
"Wait-, you said your feet are hurting," Paige said out of nowhere. She broke the hug and picked Azzi up by the back of her thighs.
Azzi let out a small laugh as she wrapped her legs tighter around Paige's body. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Paige's neck as the mechanic walked her to her truck and was somehow able to open the door with Azzi still in her hands.
"Wait here. I don't want you getting even more wet." Paige said, as she helped Azzi into the passenger seat.
"I already am wet."
Paige's head shot up at Azzi's words. The brunette rolled her eyes from being able to read what Paige was thinking just by the look on her face. "Not like that dummy. I was talking about my clothes," she grumbled.
The blonde let out a small laugh and just shook her head. "I didn't even say anything," she argued.
Azzi rolled her eyes to the back of her head. "Your facial expression said it all."
"Whatever. I'll be back. Let me go hook your car up so I don't become even more wet." Paige teased with a playful wink. She didn't let Azzi say anything back she just shut the door and walked to the back of her trailer.
God, she's so annoying.
When Azzi had turned her head over the seat to watch Paige through the back window deja vu hit her. She licked her lips while the night that they met replayed in her head. It was this moment she realized that her feelings towards Paige were stronger. Questions flowed through her mind of what would happen if she and Paige got together.
Would she be with my at my photo shoots and support me?
Does she want pets? maybe a dog or two?
Would she want to live in the forest with nothing around us but nature like I want to?
Her daydreaming was broken by Paige. "Azzi, you with me?" she said, snapping her fingers in front of Azzi's face.
"Oh, yeah sorry. Just lost my train of thought," she brushed off and shook her head.
...
A WEEK LATER
The smell of nature and rain filled through the air around Azzi. A faint layer of fog surrounded her body and the tall evergreen trees she was walking beside. An oversized black hoodie was pulled over her head—Paige's hoodie to be specific.
She paired the hoodie with dark navy leggings that hugged her legs in every which way. A loud crackle of thunder made her jump. The noise was so loud that she could hear it through her noise cancellation headphones.
Azzi hated thunder the loud noise never failed to spark her heart rate and make her panic. She turned herself around on the trail to start walking back in the direction of where her car was parked.
Today was one of her free days where she could get away from her job and just live her life. The second she had woken up this morning going on a trail filled her mind. Azzi mumbled a small 'fuck,' when the rainfall started to get worse.
The brunette wrapped Paige's hoodie tighter around her. the smell of Paige filled through her noise which helped calm her heart rate a little from the comforting smell. Azzi quickened her pace and was now basically jogging to her car.
She quickly unlocked her car and got in. Azzi pressed on her break and the start button in a hurry her body was shivering from how cold she was. "No!" she groaned when her car started to make that small screeching noise.
Please, please, please, Azzi thought to herself.
Azzi moved her hand off of the start button to bang on the dashboard. Her hand ached at how hard she was hitting most of it was out of anger and annoyance. The brunette tried one more time and this time the car made a popping noise that didn't sound good.
Tears started to swell in her eyes. She cursed silently at her attachment issues and her stubbornness that always finds its way to bite her in the ass. Azzi just looked out her window in defeat not even knowing what to do.
When she grabbed her phone but then threw it down in her lap when she realized she had no signal. Two minutes passed by of her looking out her driver's window her vision was blurry from tears that ran down her cheeks.
The air that was in her lungs hitched when Paige came into her view. She was still outside walking a dog. Azzi quickly whipped her eyes and face before she got out of her car.
"Paige!" she screamed.
Paige snapped her head over to the direction Azzi's voice. She tugged on the leash that was in her hands signaling to dog to start walking with her. "Azzi? What are you doing here?" she asked when she got closer to the model.
Azzi pulled the sleeves of Paige's hoodie to cover her hands. "I went out for a walk but then it started raining and now my car won't start," she complained talking over her words a little.
"Question does your car ever start? Or does it just choose the days it wants to?"
The brunette shot Paige a look. "Now is not the time to crack jokes," she grumbled.
"Alright, I'm sorry. Do you want me to take you home? Ion got my truck or anything today." She explained, tightening her grip on the leash while she nodded her head over to her car.
Azzi bit her lip and nodded her head. She opened her car door again to grab her things and then closed it. "Yes please," she said softly, her eyes looked down at the husky that was staring at her. "Is that your dog?"
Paige nodded her head with a smile. "Mhm. Her name is Luna. She's low-key a bitch to other people but me so I'm—" she cut herself off when she saw Luna put her ears back and her tail in between her legs as she walked closer to Azzi.
"Awe. Hi baby girl. You're so pretty," Azzi said in a high-pitched voice. She squatted down to pet Luna's head.
The mechanic just watched Luna move even closer to Azzi snuggling her head into Azzi's chest. Paige's eyes were wide from not being able to believe what was happening in front of her. "Well, that's new. She's usually very iffy with new people. Sometimes she'll growl but she loves you."
Azzi just smirked. She looked up at Paige and then back down to Luna. "Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry that you have Paige as your owner. She's already annoying as it is I can't imagine how she would be as a mom."
Luna had nodded her head a bit and rolled her big icy blue eyes up at the brunette. She looked like she had understood everything that Azzi had said.
Paige's mouth just dropped at Azzi's words. "Wow, that's actually crazy," she said as she shook her head. "I'm a very good mom, thank you very much." She pouted crossing her arms around her chest.
"I think Luna would disagree." Paige jaw had dropped even more at Azzi's words.
"Okay, let's get in the car before you hurt my feeling even more," Paige huffed out acting as if the model had stuck a knife into her chest directly where her heart was.
Azzi rolled her eyes and gave Luna one last ear rub. When she got up, she walked over to Paige and pressed a small peck onto her check. "I'm just messing with you." She mumbled pressing another peck onto the blonde's skin and then pulled away.
Paige licked her lips and stared at Azzi for a second before she had to look away. She interlocked her free hand and Azzi's together as they walked over to her car. The car was a black Porsche that looked breathtaking.
The mechanic had let go of Azzi's hand to open the passenger door. She pulled the passenger seat forward and snapped her fingers telling Luna to get inside the car. When she moved the seat back, she looked at Azzi with a smile, "here you go princess," she said, stepping out of Azzi's way so she could get inside the car.
After she closed Azzi's door she walked over to the driver's door and got in. 'Do I wanna know' by arctic monkeys started playing through the speakers in the car. Paige's cheeks flushed as she scrambled to lower the volume of the music.
"No, don't do that. I love this song," Azzi said moving her hand on top of Paige's to turn up the volume but not too much to hurt Luna's ears.
Paige just gave Azzi a sappy smile in response before she started driving. Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the song while she hummed along to it. A loud alert sound that came from Azzi's phone broke the comfortable silence in the car.
Luna had sat up from laying her belly and her ears moved back at the noise. Azzi hissed clicking the button on the side to stop the noise. She turned in her seat to pet Luna's head, "I'm so sorry honey." she apologized. The sad look that was in Luna's eyes crushed her heart.
"What was that?" Paige asked, taking her eyes off of the road to look at Azzi for a split second.
Azzi looked down at her phone, "it was a flash flood alert," she responded. Her fingers moved on her screen to see more information, "fuck and where I live that area is in the red. Which means it the roads are completely flooded and not drivable.
The mechanic made a small hiss sound with her mouth. "Do you wanna come to my house?"
The car fell silent again. The brunette bit her lip and nodded her head. "Yes, please," she responded, reaching her arm towards the back of the car to start petting Luna again.
Paige's house was surrounded by big evergreen trees, shrubs, and all other different kinds of plants you would find a middle of a forest. Azzi's jaw dropped slightly in awe, "Paige, your house is gorgeous," she said.
"Thank you. I've always wanted to live in a cottage out in the woods away from everyone else. It's so peaceful and the nature around me just makes me so happy. And I've always wanted a husky so when I moved out here, I got Luna because I didn't want to be alone. She keeps me in check in a way and also gives me company because she has such a sassy personality." Paige rambled, pulling up into her driveway and then parked her car.
Azzi didn't take her eyes off of Paige's house. "When I tell you everything you just explained is my dream too," she said, reaching her hand out to grab onto Paige's arm out of how excited she was.
Paige smiled at that. She couldn't help herself when her eyes moved from the brunette's eyes to her lips. Just when she was about to lean further in Luna started crying. Paige took her eyes off of Azzi to look in the back. "Oh, crap, I forgot I told her I would give her a treat if she was good. Sometimes I swear that she understands everything that I tell."
The brunette laughed. "She's just a baby," Azzi said, grabbing her things and then opened the door.
"Nah-, she's a spoiled brat," Paige grumbled before she yelped. Luna had gotten out the car and pounced onto Paige making her stumble a bit but not a lot.
Azzi laughed at the whole scene holding onto her stomach. She and Paige walked side by side into the house with Luna in front of them.
When Paige opened the front door the smell of pineapple filled her nose. It wasn't a strong enough smell to give you a headache; it was light. Yellow lights filled all throughout the house. Paige grabbed onto Azzi's hand and leaded her to the kitchen.
She grabbed a bag that made Luna's ears stand up and her tail wagging side to side. "Here give this to her," Paige said, dropping the treat into Azzi's hand.
the model nodded her head and did just as Paige told her to do. "Good girl," Paige whispered from behind her when she gave the treat to Luna. Her sentence made Azzi snap her head over to Paige her cheeks were a pink color, and her eyes were wide and dilated.
Paige met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. "I was talking to Luna…"
"Then why did you mumble it in my ear like that?"
Paige just smirked in response and shook her head a little. "Do you wanna shower? Your clothes are dirty. I can wash them for you." Paige said, changing the subject, rocking back in forth on her heels.
"Oh? So now your gonna change the subject because I called you out?" Azzi responded while she followed Paige to her bathroom.
"Yeah, pretty much," the blonde said as she dug through her draws to find Azzi some comfy clothes.
Azzi just rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Your mom really is something else, huh?" she said to Luna who was by her leg and resting the side of her face on Azzi's thigh.
Luna let out a huge huff as if she agreed. Azzi laughed at that and scratched her head.
"Are you guys talkin' shit about me?" Paige asked with a pile of folded clothes in her hands.
"Yeah, we are." Azzi responded without hesitation.
Paige playfully rolled her eyes as she set the clothes on the counter by the sink. "Whatever," she mumbled. The mechanic let out a small whistle when she walked back to the door, "come on Luna. Let's go."
Luna didn't move she looked at Paige for a quick second and then rolled her eyes. Paige let out a dramatic gasp and her hand went to her chest resting just above her heart. "Wow. Okay, whatever be two faced."
Azzi giggled. Her face was starting to hurt from how much she had been smiling the past ten minutes. "Can she stay in here with me?" She asked softly.
"Yeah, that's fine. And the towels are underneath the sink," Paige told her before she shut the door.
The brunette and Luna joined Paige in the living room twenty minutes later. The shorts Paige had given her were rolled up at the hips making them shorter. And the tank top she had on showed every muscle in her arms causing Paige to stare.
Paige's vision blacked out for a second when Azzi yawned and stretched her arms above her head. Her eyes dropped to the sliver of Azzi's stomach that was now on display from the action. She has abs? Paige thought, her hands were balled up into fists trying to stop herself from doing something impulsive.
"I'm tired. Can we go to bed?" Azzi asked, letting out another yawn.
"Yeah, you can take my bed and I'll take the couch."
Azzi's face scrunched at that. "No. I'll take the couch." She argued.
Paige's gaze hardened, "Ma, don't try to argue with me. You can take my bed. It's okay." She said before she started to situate the pillows that were on her couch for her to sleep on.
the model walked over to Paige and wrapped her hand around the girl's wrist. "I'm going to take the couch," Azzi's voice was more deeper this time.
The mechanic ached one of her eyebrows. She ignored how turned on she was feeling at the moment from how deep Azzi's voice was. "How about we both take the bed? So, we can stop arguing."
Azzi thought about Paige's words for a second. Her eyes lingered on Paige's face—mainly her lips. "Okay," she said, turning around to walk in the direction she just came from. A faint sound of a whistle came from Azzi's mouth making Luna automatically follow her without hesitation.
"Oh, but your gonna follow her when she whistles?" Paige grumbled from behind Luna.
Luna laid in the middle of the bed with Paige and Azzi on each side of her. Azzi took the closest side to the wall while Paige took the closet side to her nightstand. Somehow during the night Paige's arms had moved from underneath her pillow to Azzi's waist.
Paige was spooning Azzi from behind with her face buried in Azzi's neck. The feeling of Azzi pressing back more into Paige's chest woke her up. She licked her dry lips and blinked her eyes slowly.
She moved her head back into Azzi's neck when the brunette had stopped moving for a second. When her lips dragged over the model's skin accidently a soft and faint whimper came from Azzi's lips.
The mechanic's eyes widened in shock. Her body froze up and the noise sent shivers down her spine. Paige bit the inside of her cheek hard she didn't move until another noise came from Azzi's lips while the girl grinded her hips backwards.
Oh, fuck me.
Paige bit the bottom of her lip while she decided on what to do in this situation. Her heart fell to her stomach when she heard: "Hmph—Paige," from Azzi's mouth.
She squeezed her legs together at the moan and the ringing in her ears started to become louder. Fuck it, Paige thought, moving her body a little to sit up.
"Azzi," Paige said softly. The sound of her voice echoed throughout the darkness in her room. Azzi didn't move; she just kept letting out soft whimpers that were starting to drive Paige insane.
"Azzi," she repeated but this time her voice was more firm.
The brunette moved a little and turned towards Paige. "Paige? Why are you up right now?" she asked, her voice was raspy as she spoke. Azzi blinked a few times every ounce of tiredness left her body from the feeling of Paige staring at her face.
Paige shook her head a little. "Your something else," she mumbled lower her face closer to Azzi's. She stopped when their faces were an inch apart. "Can I kiss you?" That question hung in the air for a minute as Azzi processed her question.
Without a warning Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige's neck and dragged her down to connect their lips. The blonde moaned into the kiss her right hand trailed down from the brunette's stomach to the back of Azzi's thigh.
She bent Azzi's leg up in the air a bit caressing the girl's soft skin by running her fingers up and down. The model's fingers played with Paige's hair as the kiss deepened. A muffled moan was heard throughout Paige's room when the blonde ran her tongue over Azzi's bottom lip.
Paige's hand started to knead at Azzi's skin out of hunger. She moved the muscle of her tongue into Azzi's mouth when the brunette gave her access. The kiss started to become sloppy—messy even and Paige's patients was thinning by the second.
the atmosphere around them changed when Azzi wrapped her lips around Paige's tongue and sucked on it before she pulled away. Azzi's chest felt like it was on fire as she tried to control her breathing.
"What were you dreaming about?" Paige asked, licking her swollen lips while she stared into Azzi's soul.
Azzi's throat bobbed and she licked her lips nervously. "I was dreaming about getting a dog. Why does that matter?" she lied. The second her words left her lips she regretted it with how Paige's gaze hardened.
Paige's tightened her hand on the back of Azzi's thigh. "So, moaning my name was involved in you getting a dog?"
The brunette felt her soul leave her body. "What do you mean?" Azzi asked, her voice shook.
The mechanic just blinked once. "I woke up to you moaning my name. Do you wanna keep acting like you don't know what I'm talking about still or do you wanna help me with the aching pain in between my legs?"
Azzi bucked her hips up at Paige's words. "Yeah? You like the idea of you pleasing me?" Paige teased with a smug look. The way Azzi was still trying to buck her hips up to get some type of pleasure didn't go unnoticed by her.
The brunette nodded her head in response.
"Nah-, don't do that shit. Use your words."
The mess in between Azzi's legs worsened at the way the girl above her was talking to her. "Yes, I like the idea of pleasing you. The thought of making you feel good has been circling my mind ever since our first kiss." she mumbled out, her lips were quivering a bit.
Paige smirked. "Good girl. I love when you obey me." She said, sitting up fully and taking her hands off of Azzi's body.
She rested her back against the headboard of her bed. Paige didn't hesitate to take off her shorts in boxer all at once. She threw them off the bed and opened her legs. "Come here," she rasped out, tapping the empty stop in between her legs.
Azzi launched herself forward crawling into the space on her hands in knees. She was on laying on her stomach with her face hovering above Paige's heat. Her arms were wrapped around Paige's thighs.
The brunette's eyes looked down her eyes gawked at the how the moonlight shining through the window beside Paige's bed and reflected onto Paige's arousal. her mouth watered at the sight she moved her head forward as if she was stuck in a trance.
Just when she was an inch away from having Paige's slick in her mouth Paige stopped her by holding the side of her face. "Say please," she commanded.
Azzi rolled her eyes up at Paige. "Please," she whined.
A proud grin was now on Paige's face. "Good girl, now you can taste me."
Azzi stuck her tongue out collecting the slick that had gathered onto the blonde's folds. The moan that came out of her mouth made Paige's eyes flutter. "You taste so good," she whispered, sucking on her tongue for a bit to taste the remaining slick that was still there.
The sharpness of her nails dug into Paige's skin while she ran her tongue through Paige's folds again and repeated the action. Azzi's eyes were closed shut and she moved her head even closer to Paige's cunt. The tip of her nose rub slightly against the mechanic's clit causing her to let out a soft groan.
Paige eyes rolled back and one of her hands grabbed at Azzi's curly hair. "Azzi. Stop teasing me and just get to the point already," she snapped.
The brunette just ignored her continuing to lap at her folds. A whine left Azzi's lips when Paige pulled her head away from her center. "Azzi. Be a good girl and follow my instructions. Don't ignore me ma."
Azzi licked her lips. "Okay I won't do it again," she apologized, stuffing her back into Paige's heat. This time she went straight for the blonde's clit flicking it lightly with the tip of her tongue. She smiled into Paige's pussy when Paige's body shivered at the action.
She pulled back a little to spit a glob of spit onto Paige's clit. Before Paige could complain at the loss of her tongue she lapped at her clit harder and flattened her tongue. Her hands stopped Paige from trying to close her legs at how good the sensation felt.
Azzi tugged at Paige thighs trying to bring the mechanic even closer to her mouth. The taste of Paige was just so addicting it made her feel feral. And the loud moans that were now falling from the blonde's mouth when she wrapped her lips around her clit wasn't helping one bit.
Paige bucked her hips put shoving her cunt more into Azzi's face. Her hands were now both gripping the sheets and her head was tilted back resting on the headboard. "Fuck, You're such a good girl f'me." She groaned.
The mechanic opened her eyes and looked down in between her legs. She clenched around nothing at the sight of Azzi devouring her like she was the best thing she's ever tasted. Paige smirked at how Azzi groaned against her from her praise. The sound of sheets ruffling made her look put to see that Azzi was squeezing her legs together.
A huge grin fell on her face. "I fucking knew you had a praise kink." she grumbled out. Her voice was lighter and shakier now from Azzi sucking her nerves harder.
Paige's legs started to shake around the brunette's head. She shut her eyes again at the feel of her release forming in her lower stomach. "Fuck-, you keep eating me like that m'not gonna last much longer," she whimpered.
She slouched her body more into her bed and tried to move her hips away from Azzi's mouth when she was on the edge. It was no use though she stayed in place right where she was and just took it.
Azzi let go of Paige's clit and a wet noise came from her mouth from it. "Oh, fuck Azzi," Paige moaned so loud that it made Azzi's ears ring and her cheeks burn. Ignoring the aching pain from her jaw moving so much so pushed through flicking her tongue of Paige's penetrating clit until the girl came.
Without even hesitation Azzi licked up all of Paige's juices and didn't pull away until Paige was crying. "Wait-, give me a second," Paige begged tears fell from her face because of overstimulation.
The model pulled away and licked her lip. She lowered her head to press messy kisses on Paige's inner thigh giving the girl time to come down from her high.
A low and scratchy laugh fell from Paige's lips once she was finally able to breathe right. "Damn, you ruined me," she sniffed, whipping away her tears with a small smile.
Azzi rolled her eyes up at Paige and gave her a small grin. "Yeah, I did," she agreed running her the tips of her fingers up and down Paige's legs. "Do you think you can go again?" Azzi asked, biting her lip.
"I think so, but I won't last long."
The brunette just shrugged her shoulders at that. "that's fine it's actually even better. I'll get to have your juices in my mouth sooner."
Paige's entrance clenched around nothing at that. "Shit-, you can't say stuff like that," she groaned feeling her clit pulsate in the need of more stimulation.
"Why? It looks like she loves it," Azzi said, referring to how Paige's clit was throbbing and crying for more. To make a point Azzi moved her head back over Paige's bundle of nervous and flattened her tongue against her clit. She smirked at how she could actually feel how turned on Paige was and from how she needed more.
The blonde's mouth fell open at Azzi's action. A long and drawled out moan came out of her mouth while her spine arched. The next action had shocked her Azzi pushed two fingers into her entrance without a warning.
Her walls happily welcomed the brunette's fingers her walls had even squeezed around Azzi's digits as if it was giving them a kiss. "Fuck do you hear that shit?" Azzi groaned, referring to the wet noises that were coming from Paige's entrance while she fingered her.
"She loves me huh?" Azzi asked, using her thumb to rub Paige's puffy clit in a circular motion.
Paige hissed in response. More uncontrolled tears fell from her face as she rocked herself forward trying to get Azzi's fingers deeper. "Fuck-," Paige cried, moving her hand to grab onto Azzi's hair.
She pulled the girl up from in between her legs bringing her into a kiss. Paige moans muffled out into Azzi's mouth from the brunette not stopping. She curled her fingers up to hit Paige's g-spot making the blonde pull away from the kiss.
"It feels so good," Paige whimpered, sucking on her swollen bottom lip and rested her temple on the side of Azzi's face. Her legs were now trembling and her legs closed together but that didn't stop Azzi.
Azzi smirked at how her fingers started to slip in easier. "God, it's almost like this pussy was made for me." She groaned watching the way Paige's stomach rose and fell. "Look at this shit-, taking my fingers so good," Azzi egged on.
"Stop talking like that," Paige hissed, feeling the coil in her stomach forming from the dirty words falling out of the brunette's mouth.
"Why you close to making a mess on my fingers?"
"Mhm," Paige hummed. Her hands were now grabbing at Azzi's chest that was still covered by her shirt. Her eyebrows frowned at that realization. "Can I?" She asked, her hand was at the neckline of Azzi's tank top ready to slip in at any moment.
Azzi licked her lips. "Of course honey, you don't even have to ask."
Paige yanked the hem of Azzi's shirt down not caring about stretching it out. Thankfully Azzi wasn't wearing a bra, so she was able to latch her lips around one of the girl's nipples. The model hissed a little at the pain she moved curled her finger more working through the way Paige's walls fluttered around her.
The whimper that fell from Paige's mouth vibrated against Azzi's skin. She bucked her hips upward and gushed all over Azzi's digits with no warning. Her body shook from the after math while her legs clamped shut together even though Azzi's fingers where still in her.
She let go of Azzi's nipple with a cry. "Okay-, okay, no more," she breathed out.
Azzi released her fingers and brought them up to her mouth. She licked them clean letting out a groan at the taste of Paige's slick on her tongue. The brunette just rested one of her palms on Paige's stomach and cradled Paige into her chest.
"You did so good for me,"she whispered, kissing Paige's sweaty forehead. Sweet nothing fell from her lips and into Paige's ear until the blonde stopped shaking and eventually calmed down. Her nails ran up and down Paige's back as she allowed Paige to such on the skin around her nipple.
"Here let's get you more comfortable," Azzi whispered, laying Paige on her back so her head was propped up against a pillow. Right when her feet touched the hard wood of Paige's floor the blonde reached out and grabbed Azzi's wrist.
"Where are you going?" She asked, her voice was filled with tiredness.
"I'm going to get a rag so I can clean you up. I'll be back in a second," she responded and walked away to head into the bathroom. When she walked back into the room Paige was half asleep and barley wake.
Paige let out a small hiss from the rag making contact with her oversensitive heat. "I'm sorry," Azzi apologized, carefully cleaning up Paige's inner thighs. After she was done cleaning Paige up and crawled back into the bed and snuggled up with Paige.
"So…does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?" Paige asked, snuggling closer into Azzi's warm body.
Azzi ran her fingers through Paige's messy hair. "If you want to be then yes," she responded, massaging the tense muscles in Paige's shoulders.
Paige tangled her legs with the brunette's. "Of course I want to be your girlfriend," she responded in a slight sassy tone.
The model just laughed at that. She stared up at Paige's ceiling silencing listening to the sound of Paige breathing. "So.." Azzi trailed off after a few seconds of silence, "does this mean I get free service on my car now?"
"I've been giving you free services what do you mean?"
"Okay but like still."
Paige just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's exactly what it means. And tomorrow we are gonna look for you a new car." She muttered into Azzi's skin.
Azzi let out a sigh in relief. "Thank god. I was actually so close to getting rid of it before I met you. I just needed an excuse to see you, so I kept it." Azzi confessed, causing Paige to lift her head out of the brunette's chest to look at her.
"Really?"
Azzi bit her lip. "Well, I also did have an attachment to that car so that was another reason. But you were the main reason on why I kept it. And I'm so happy I did," she said, wrapping her arms tighter around Paige body.
A faint noise of nails clicking against the floor made the room so silent again. Azzi held onto Paige out of fear, but it only lasts for a second before Luna jumped up on the bed. "Oh, hey honey, where have you been?" Azzi asked the dog as if she could respond.
Luna parked herself beside Azzi resting her head on her shoulder blade. "I missed you. I'm sorry for being loud. well, actually, it was your mother who was being loud. Not me. I wouldn't be surprised if she was echoing throughout the whole house"
Paige let out a sleepy groan in response. Azzi just laughed. "You know I'm right don't even try to argue. But it's okay because it was very sexy. I would pay to hear those noises come out of your mouth again."
Before Paige could respond to her Luna let out another exhale simply reminding them that she was still there. Azzi cocked her head over to the dog, "oh, I'm sorry Luna. I didn't mean to talk like that around you," she apologized, earning a small and slight slap on her chest.
"Go to sleep, Azzi," Paige snapped.
...
authors notes: so, I was gonna make this story even longer but … it’s fine. I fell in love with the idea of mechanic paige & I hope you did too. thank you for reading! love you <33
ft. Gabby Williams, Veronica Burton, and Janelle Salaün
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: Profanity
A/N: Sorry for the delay! This one's a little slow-moving, but the next chapter is when things really get going! And it's currently sitting at 14k words! Enjoy, as always, and talk to me in my inbox 🫶
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi Fudd wanted nothing more than a clean slate; a new opportunity. To spread her...purple wings.
The exciting trade created more commotion than just ESPN headlines, spreading...internally?
The Golden State Valkyries PR Manager, Paige Bueckers, had long been obsessed with the girl before the trade had even occurred. It takes all of her energy + a little help in Ballhalla to make Azzi even bat an eye(lash).
Azzi had always been reserved, thoughtful, and rather nonchalant.
And Paige was…um…but she forms a plan.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
It was their first home game of the season, with a sold-out home crowd of 18k+ fans in Ballhalla. The arena had been erupting for every single play, whether it was a Gabby Williams steal, a Kiah Stokes block, or an Azzi Fudd three.
Azzi was surprising even herself with how well she was playing. She’d been expecting to have a rough start to her season, like her rookie year, since it was a completely new team and environment.
But she was doing…alright. She supposed it had to do with her landing on a more well-established and title-contending team than her first with the Liberty, currently surrounded by pieces like Veronica Burton and Gabby Williams, who were all-star-caliber athletes.
She had racked up a respectable 8 points, 2 rebounds, and 2 steals. It was only midway through the second quarter, so she had plenty of time to really explode later in the game, before the bench would get minutes.
They had a decent lead, up 25-18 against the Seattle Storm. It was Gabby’s former team, so she felt especially happy after sending a crisp pass to Gabby, who proceeded to drain her three-ball. She held out three fingers down by her right leg and smiled at Gabby as they jogged back towards their basket before locking back in.
“Switch! Kai, switch!” She yelled out, going under Malonga’s screen.
That was another thing she was surprised by, just how seamlessly they seemed to work on defense together. She could not have reliably switched with half of her Liberty teammates during her rookie season. She was quite impressed with her new teammates' defensive abilities, despite knowing the Valkyries had always been pesky defenders, from when she’d scouted and played them when on the Liberty.
She took a few steps to her left, while still keeping a hand reaching out towards her defender, as she invaded the space of Dom’s drive. She managed to get her fingertips on the edge of the ball and was rewarded for her efforts with a steal, as the ball came tumbling into her abdomen. She started sprinting with the ball and had made it to about half court until she started surveying her surroundings. She noted that Veronica was a few steps behind her, to her left, and that Veronica’s defender was right on her heel. She twisted her head forward again to see where her own defender was now, trying to gauge whether she should just go for it herself on the fast break.
But right as she did so, her gaze caught on something in the audience. In the first row near the scorer's table.
Blue eyes.
Azzi had no idea what had come over her, but her gaze remained fixed on those striking blue eyes as she dribbled forward almost mindlessly.
Understandably, with her attention elsewhere, the ball was simply stolen right back from her, and the Storm rushed on the fast break. Her gaze was wrenched back towards her teammates when she heard multiple people yelling her name, and she saw Veronica backpedalling while throwing her a ‘wtf?’ look.
Um, yeah. What the fuck?
Never in her (admittedly short) career as a WNBA player had Azzi been distracted in such a way. She loved her fans dearly, but never spared them a second thought when she was on the court. She was always locked in. In fact, she was kind of known for that in the basketball world.
So why the hell did she just get distracted, looking at…was that Paige?...of all people?
Her thoughts were disrupted by the piercing screech of a whistle from the referee she was now standing beside. The Storm had scored off of Azzi’s turnover, converting her mistake into a three-pointer, and Natalie had called for a timeout.
The Valkyries jogged over to their bench, all avoiding Natalie’s fiery gaze that was (understandably) narrowed in on Azzi.
“Azzi, I’m not sure what the hell was, but that can’t happen again. Got it?”
Azzi gave her a small nod of affirmation, still avoiding her gaze.
“Alright, coaches, let’s huddle up real quick.” She called out to the staff as she gestured for the players to huddle up by themselves.
It was a new system for Azzi. The Liberty had always had their coach planted in front of their bench during timeouts, with the five that had just come off the court resting. Their coach would go through a few things they wanted to correct, and then would typically draw up some plays on their clipboard. The Valks, on the other hand, liked to have the coaches and players discuss amongst themselves first, before coming together in a big huddle.
Azzi took a seat between Gabby and Veronica, gratefully accepting a Tetra Pak of coconut water from the staff over her shoulder. “Thank you-”
“What was that?” Veronica asked, squirting a stream of water into her mouth from her Gatorade bottle. She swallowed. “Like, genuinely, what the hell was that?”
“Yeah, what? I’ve literally never seen you do that in my life, Az.” Gabby added, frowning.
Azzi looked at each of them before she landed on, “Nerves, I guess? I dunno.”
She didn't see the two of them giving each other a look before they decided to drop it.
Azzi took a sip of coconut water, swishing it around in her mouth.
It was totally Paige, wasn’t it? Of course it is- those were her bright-ass eyes. I mean, they’re kinda pretty...holy fuck, stop thinking about Paige.
The refs blew their whistle again after Natalie reinforced the idea of being more ‘focused on the ball and your surroundings’, making sure to give Azzi some extra eye contact during her speech.
She'd called out their lack of rebounding, too, which had boxing out at the forefront of Azzi’s mind, pushing away all thoughts of…whatever the hell that was.
They jogged back onto the court and into position, Gabby giving her a comforting pat on the back as she passed by.
They were running a play for Azzi, out of the timeout, to get her three-ball going. It was pretty simple:
She’d inbound to Veronica in the corner, who’d dribble around Gabby and Dom and get the ball back to Azzi once she relocated, free from Skylar Diggins after she’d hopefully get stuck on the double-screen from Janelle and Kiah.
Azzi inbounded the ball to Veronica and casually walked back onto the court before sprinting around both Janelle and Kiah. She turned around at the other end of the court, behind the arc, with her hands up in front of her, ready to catch the incoming pass. She quickly glanced towards the hoop and saw that the screens had thankfully worked. Skylar was stumbling towards her, but in the paint. Azzi looked over at Veronica, who was now at the top of the key.
Now just catch and shoot the open three. Come on...
Blue eyes.
Azzi’s gaze had moved just beyond Veronica’s figure, above the scorer’s table, and…right back onto Paige’s eyes. Her breath caught at the realization that Paige was staring right at her, and she briefly allowed her gaze to wander. Paige was leaning forward in her seat, her elbows resting on her knees, chin sitting on top of her intertwined hands. She was wearing her blonde hair down today, golden strands framing her face.
She looks so soft again…
SMACK
Veronica had passed Azzi the ball, clearly thinking she was ready for the pass, as she had literally been facing Veronica, but Azzi was still completely distracted. And so the ball simply collided with her face.
“Ow! Fuck-”
Skylar grabbed the ball that was now just bouncing by itself in front of Azzi and sprinted the floor with it, easily making the uncontested layup as Azzi didn't move. She stood in place, clutching her face in her hands.
The ref nearest to her blew her whistle just as Azzi crouched down, still holding her face. She felt pain radiating up the bridge of her nose.
Did I just break my nose!?
“Azzi, what the fuck? Are you okay?” Gabby had jogged over to her and crouched down beside her. She put an arm around her shoulders, leaning closer. “What was that!?”
Azzi checked her hands for blood, which there was plenty of, unfortunately, before responding, “Um, I dunno- can I get a towel, please?”
Veronica came jogging over to her other side, bending down to hand her one of their white Gatorade towels as blood continued to pour out of Azzi’s nose.
“Azzi, dude, are you good?”
“Yes, yes, ‘m fine,” Azzi said in a nasally voice, pressing the towel against her face as she slowly got up, gratefully grabbing the arm Gabby held out to stabilize her.
“But, like, why’d you zone out? We were running the play correctly, right?” Veronica asked, starting to walk alongside them with a frown.
“Yeah, no, the play was totally fine, I just…got distracted.” Azzi gingerly dabbed the towel on her nose, becoming slightly concerned about the growing red stain.
“By wha-”
“Azzi! Come here, we got some plugs for you.” One of the athletic trainers called out to her from the sideline. Azzi looked up to see her holding up two cotton plugs.
“Thanks, Sophia,” Azzi mumbled when she got closer, letting go of Gabby to take them. She gently pushed them up her nostrils, wincing when they caused some discomfort.
She felt more than saw Natalie come over. “Fudd.”
Fuck.
“First of all, are you okay?”
Oh.
“Yeah, I’m alright, thanks Nat.” She resisted the urge to tilt her head back, vaguely remembering having read something about that not being what you’re supposed to do with a nosebleed.
“Okay, good. Then I can yell at you without feeling guilty.” Natalie said, crossing her arms.
Fuck.
“What the hell was that!? Were you even looking for the pass from VB? We literally drew up the play, and everything else was in place! The double screen worked perfectly and Sky was stuck in the paint. You were wide open!”
Azzi grimaced again, shooting Natalie an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, I know I keep hesitating-”
“Hesitating? You were literally staring off into the distance when V passed to you. What were you even looking at?” Natalie huffed agitatedly.
“Um-” Fuck. “Sorry, yeah, I did get distracted. I thought I saw someone in the crowd-”
“I don’t care if you see a fucking unicorn courtside, Fudd! Pay attention when you’re on the court! We can’t have you be all distracted. We’ve been a championship-contending team since our franchise was established, and I am not having you fuck that up because you saw some hot guy in the stands!”
Azzi straightened up, blushing at the insinuation that wasn’t true (well, just the ‘guy’ part, but-), “Woah, woah, wait! It wasn’t- look, coach, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I’ll keep my eyes on the ball. I swear this was a one-time thing. I’ve never had that happen to me before.”
Natalie’s rigid posture loosened a bit, but she kept her eyebrow raised. “It better not, Fudd. It looked real similar to when you lost the ball earlier.”
“I know, yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll lock in. It won’t happen again.” She nodded solemnly, offering her a small smile.
“Okay, go get some water too, kid. Nose alright for real?”
Azzi experimentally felt the bridge of her nose, pinching it between her thumb and index finger. It didn’t hurt that much anymore. It didn’t seem broken or anything, thankfully. Likely just a nosebleed. “I will. It seems fine, thanks.”
She made her way over to the bench again, sighing as she dropped into the open seat beside Gabby.
Gabby looked over at her but decided not to comment, settling for an expression of ‘the fuck was that?’ instead.
Janelle wasn’t so forgiving, though, who was sitting on the other side of Gabby. She leaned forward in her seat. “What were you staring at? I thought you were known for being so locked in or something. Family in the crowd?” She took a sip of water.
Gabby looked at her more intensely, raising both her eyebrows.
Azzi looked down and started wiggling her toes, watching the material of her shoes shift slightly from the action.
I’ll never hear the end of it if I tell them the truth, bro. Hmm, I’ll be vague-
“Azzi?”
“I saw something, and it, like, distracted me, yeah.”
“Yeah, probably Paige or something.” Gabby laughed, nudging Azzi’s shoulder.
Dude. Why am I so unlucky.
Azzi could feel heat rush to her face at Gabby's words, so she took her time again to respond, reaching down to unnecessarily mess with her shoes. She reached up to delicately feel her nose with her other hand.
Gabby impatiently nudged her foot. “What, did you actually see her?”
She looked over at her. Then at Janelle, who was smiling.
This is so embarrassing. Do I lie?
But Azzi wasn’t much of a liar. “Ugh. Okay, you guys can’t laugh. Promise?”
She looked between them, who were already struggling to keep their faces straight, and waited until they both nodded in agreement.
“I…did see her.” She mumbled, turning towards the court.
Azzi heard Janelle let out a little gasp before saying, “No way, really? Is that why you’re red?”
Fuck.
Gabby immediately started snickering, earning her an elbow to the ribs from Azzi. “Really!? It was actually her?”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Azzi’s head snapped toward them, red cheeks and all, frowning.
Gabby laughed again, “Nah, I take it back. Did you really see Paige?”
“...maybe.”
“And just seeing her made you do all…that?” Janelle joined in on the teasing, laughing too.
“Twice?” Gabby added with a grin.
Azzi sighed. There really wasn’t any way to get out of this one. “Yes, okay? I’ll stop looking her way. Don’t lecture me. I know I need to lock in.”
Gabby snorted. “Girl, we don’t care about that.”
“Yeah, as long as you end up shooting those open threes, Az, it’s okay if you get a little distracted by Paigey.”
“Oh my god, stop.” Azzi groaned, pressing her palms against her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before looking over. “I don’t care if you guys tease me, but can you do it after the game? Please?”
Gabby and Janelle both took a moment to school their expressions before Gabby finally said, “Okay, okay, fine. Let’s all lock in.”
Natalie and the rest of the coaches walked over to them, and Natalie took a seat on the floor in front of them, clutching her clipboard, as the rest of them huddled around behind her.
“Alright, next time y’all come down the court, we’ll run the same play, k? But for this inbound…
“You’ll invite me to the wedding, right?” Gabby whispered beside her.
Azzi felt the heat return to her cheeks despite herself, but chose to ignore it. She clenched her jaw and nudged Gabby with her knee instead, focusing her attention on the clipboard Natalie was now gesturing at.
“I’m just sayinggg. Ow!”
The whistle was blown again, and they stood up together.
…alright, Valks on three, ready? 1, 2, 3,”
“VALKS!”
Janelle tapped her shoulder and said a quick, “Okay, hope you’re good for real, Az,” before jogging to the other side of the court.
“Thanks, Ja!” Azzi called out after her, turning back towards Gabby. “Is it still bleeding?” She asked, gently pulling the plugs out of her nose, tilting her head up while grimacing slightly.
“Nah, it looks fine, don’t worry,” Gabby said, narrowing her eyes and leaning closer. “Not bleeding anymore, I don’t think.”
Azzi handed the plugs to the gloved trainer, thanked her, and she and Gabby slowly made their way onto the court together.
“You think Paige knows?” Gabby said to her under a covered mouth while Azzi adjusted the spandex under her shorts.
“Knows what? That I was busy staring at her during a play and then got hit in the face?” Azzi grimaced again, shielding her mouth from the cameras as well.
Gabby giggled, “No, that you’re clearly into her, too.”
“Gabby!” Azzi slapped her arm, only making Gabby laugh even harder. “I am not! And you said you’d stop!”
“Whatever you say, Fudd. Whatever you say.”
But as Azzi briefly thought about Paige again, she couldn’t help but notice that she definitely felt something for her. Especially after last night…
The whistle blew again to indicate that Veronica could inbound the ball, and they broke apart, heading to their spots.
Stop. Lock the fuck in.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
“…was just a fantastic pass in the 3rd quarter. After those moments where we saw you freeze for the first time in your career, in the second, it was great seeing you really…lock in, I guess, in the second half. 9 assists in your first game here, especially as a shooting guard, is seriously impressive."
Azzi closed her eyes and exhaled, ignoring Gabby’s foot kicking hers under the table in the media room, which was presumably paired with her classic smirk.
"I’m wondering about the team’s seemingly remarkable passing abilities, where you specifically, Azzi, were able to focus so well and find the hot hand, even in such a new and distracting arena like Ballhalla-“
Another voice chimed in, “Yeah, Az! You know, with all the purple feathers, and say, hot blondes in the building, how do you remain focused?”
Paige was going to kill Janelle, who’d crashed their presser and had somehow been given the second microphone. She'd mouthed ‘don’t’, right before she spoke, but of course, she didn’t listen to her. She heard Gabby let out a small laugh.
Mm, she’s right though, I am a hot blonde.
She turned to her right upon hearing Gabby burst out laughing, immediately preparing to take control of the situation. Gabby, however, was staring straight at Paige. So was Azzi. “Did I just say that out loud? Fu-“ she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes widening, and let out a muffled, “I mean-“
“Thank you for commenting on our passing, Matt. I think we were able to…
The fading laughter in the room answered Paige’s question as Azzi started answering. She didn’t spare a glance at Paige throughout her entire response.
…and to you, Ja, it really is remarkable that I stay focused when you’re bothering me 24/7.” Azzi ended, turning to smirk at her.
Bless her media training.
“And…that’s all the time we have today, thank you.” Paige stopped the timer and got up, shoving her phone into her back pocket and smoothing her slacks before she busied herself turning all of the microphones off, looking anywhere but at her right.
She could hear Azzi and Gabby bickering as they left the room, amidst the chatter amongst the reporters, and, right as the pair rounded the corner, a distinct slapping sound followed by an “ow!” from Gabby.
Paige caught a wink from Janelle when she finally chanced a glance upward, before immediately returning her gaze back to the microphones she was unplugging, swallowing dryly.
She felt a buzz in her back pocket and took her phone back out.
Janeeel:
so have u made the plan yet?
PB:
no?
idec rn why the fuck did you do that
Janeeel:
😜
bro.
make the plan Paige
season’s only so long
PB:
after THAT?
idk if i can ever talk to her again
or see her, even
Janeeel:
omg stop she def thinks it was cute or smth
PB:
…
there’s no way
Paige glanced up again and saw that the whole room had cleared out. She double-checked that she’d taken care of all of the audio equipment before sinking back into her chair with a sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair with one hand as she continued texting Janelle with the other.
PB:
what happened earlier tho
Janeeel:
when
PB:
like when she froze on the court
i’ve never seen her do that before
like
when she was at NY i mean
Janeeel:
u watched her THAT closely?
gay ass
PB:
literally shut up
i’m putting your name down for media tomorrow
Janeeel:
no wait
PB:
too late
She stood back up and cracked her neck before looking around the room as one last check. She picked up her backpack from behind her seat and headed out of the room, turning the lights off behind her, and opened their thread again.
Janeeel:
bruh
i’m not telling u what happened to Azzi then
PB:
ok fine i won’t make u do media tmr
She started walking up the stairs and eventually made her way to her office on the second floor, flicking the lights on and shutting the door behind her.
Janeeel:
yay ur so easy
ok so idk how you’re not putting two and two together but she literally saw u in the stands and got distracted
so…
PB:
wait that’s what i thought happened
but like
i didn’t know if i was seeing things
Janeeel:
seeing what?
gay asssss
PB:
ur back on the list btw
Janeeel:
stop
ik ur stupid but u can see she likes u right?
like if she’s never been distracted before
in her entire career
and YOU distracted her tonight
she’s definitely into u
Paige set her backpack down on her chair and took out her computer, placing it on her desk. She moved the backpack to the floor, against the edge of the desk, before sitting down in the office chair and sighing.
PB:
man idk
im scared
Janeeel:
so make the plan then
PB:
idkkkkkkk
Janeeel:
ur so stupid
make the fucking plan Paige
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Paige set her phone down on top of her laptop and sat back in her chair. She brought her hands up behind her head and kicked her legs out under the desk, crossing her ankles.
A plan. Okay.
She sat up again and looked at what was on her desk.
A stack of papers she’d been meaning to take care of, a cup full of pens, her laptop and phone, colored sticky notes…
That’ll do.
She grabbed a pad of sticky notes and a pen, pushing her laptop forward to make room on her desk to write, before realizing she had an entire empty surface on her right, thanks to the massive L-shaped desk her office had come with.
Paige hadn’t woken up one day and decided to be a PR Manager. Well, sort of. She'd initially moved to California eight years ago. She'd finished high school here before starting her pursuit of an engineering degree at Caltech. After a single semester of Calc III and Orgo, though, she realized that was definitely not the career path for her. Her GPA thanked her.
She spent winter break of her freshman year in her dorm conducting extensive research into what other major she could pursue at Caltech. It took her a while to land on one, but after realizing that she had some interest in the corporate world, she decided to pursue a general communications major. At least, at first.
She applied to change her major on Christmas Day, as she was away from her family anyway. She'd filled out the form as intricately as possible to do her best to ensure that she’d be accepted into the business program for the spring semester, despite it being such a late application.
Paige got quite lucky, she thought, since she was accepted into the program and was able to start her business journey that year.
She found the classes to be much more engaging and interesting, and was very glad that she had changed her career path in time. Her sophomore year was when she decided to pursue a double major, and she added a minor during the fall semester of her junior year.
Those four years had passed quickly, and Paige found herself reading an email during winter break of her senior year in the same dorm. It had detailed the internship she had been accepted for: An opportunity to work with the WNBA’s Golden State Valkyries’ PR team.
She worked with them remotely for a few months before graduating and was eventually offered a promotion to work full-time as their PR Manager. The move went smoothly, and Paige found herself absolutely loving her post-graduation life.
When she had come in to work at the facility in Oakland, she’d been shocked to see how fancy it was. The entire facility was quite new, of course, as the Valkyries were a very recent addition to the WNBA as an expansion team, but the fact didn’t dampen just how impressed Paige was during her tour.
When she’d been shown her office, she had been even more surprised to see that it was absolutely massive. There was plenty of floor space, and even a small couch on one end perched atop a fluffy rug, as well as a smart whiteboard that hung on top of it.
…so, yeah. After her whole college journey, she now got to sit in this fancy office chair behind a certainly-overpriced mahogany, adjustable L-shaped desk, in the heart of the bay, as the Valkyries PR Manager.
She clicked her pen and brought the wad of sticky notes closer to her.
Right, the plan.
Honestly? Paige wasn’t feeling very confident about the whole thing. She knew that she probably had somewhat of a chance with Azzi, that much the whole bench thing had confirmed, but she wasn’t convinced it was a…very big chance. She really couldn’t tell if Azzi was still hung up on her ex or not.
I mean, she literally cuddled with me-
Yeah, that was true. Sure, Paige had initiated the contact, but Azzi had fully rested her head on Paige’s shoulder. Nevermind that she’d gotten so nervous in the moment that she almost forgot how to breathe; the point still stands. And she had literally nuzzled into her shoulder when Paige suggested they should head back. That was surely a sign that Azzi was at least a little into her, right?
And there was the whole thing that had gone down at the game, earlier.
Azzi had definitely caught her eye when she was on the court, and definitely just froze in place. Paige hadn’t lied to Janelle, in their texts. She, truly, had never seen Azzi do that before. It was actually something the media constantly praised about her game; how she was always so damn focused.
There was also the whole ‘I am a hot blonde’ thing that had just happened, too. And, well, there wasn’t much saving that one. Paige cringed when thinking about it, lowering her forehead onto her desk and closing her eyes.
Stupid.
But it would be okay. This was why she was sitting in her office at 10 pm, making the whole plan-thing, right?
She let out a deep exhale before lifting her head, clicking the pen twice.
Hmm, ‘how to hit on Azzi Fudd’?
She wrote it down.
Nah, that doesn't look right.
She crumpled it up and threw it in the bin under her desk.
Maybe not ‘how to’. What about “Hitting on your coworker; a plan’?
She didn’t even bother writing that one down. It was a definite no.
She rubbed her eyes, making sure to angle the pen away from her face. It was getting late. She really needed to get this over with and go to sleep.
Ooh, I know-
She wrote it down on the pad before ripping the sticky note off of the stack and standing up. She turned around and walked around her chair and over to the whiteboard before realizing that someone could literally walk in at any moment and see this nonsense in her office, so she turned back, deciding to put it somewhere more…private.
Her desk had a compartment that pulled out for a keyboard, if she were to use a PC, but it was currently unoccupied. She walked back over to her desk and opened the drawer.
Yeah, still empty.
Paige placed the sticky note down on the far end of the drawer, right in the center. It was just barely visible if you pulled the drawer out as far as it would go.
Perfect.
It read:
10 steps to bag Azzi Fudd
Now to…actually come up with those ten steps.
She yawned, cupping her mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding the pen. She tapped her phone to check the time. It was 10:46 pm. She needed to hurry up and go to bed.
After a good thirty minutes, Paige had finally finished detailing the ten steps to bag Azzi Fudd on separate sticky notes and meticulously placing each of them in the compartment. She smiled almost sinisterly at her completed work.
Perfect.
She wheeled her chair back to admire it, staring at the one on the far left for a long moment before letting out a sigh. This was going to be a long journey.
She stood, pushing the drawer all the way in, and packed her belongings, slinging her backpack over one shoulder before leaving her office. She turned the lights off and closed the door behind her as she started fishing her car keys out of her bag.
One step at a time.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi, Gabby, Veronica, and Janelle were heading to the sauna after the game. The Valks had beaten the Seattle Storm, 94-78, and the team had decided to celebratorily splash both Azzi and Natalie in the locker room with water afterward. The trio had waited for Azzi to dry herself before they all piled into Gabby’s car, who drove them over to the training facility.
Gabby wrenched the door open to the sauna and made her way inside, the rest of them following behind her. She took a corner seat, and Veronica and Janelle sat on either side of her. Azzi opted for the other bench because she still despised getting other peoples’ sweat on her.
“Like I said before, you’re so weird, Fudd. We literally play basketball together.” Gabby said, rolling her eyes as Janelle and Veronica both laughed.
Azzi wiped her forehead with her towel and inched away from them to make a point before responding, “We play together, sure, but you’re still gross, bruh.”
“Sooo,” Janelle started, leaning towards Azzi.
Azzi closed her eyes. She knew where this was going.
“About the game…”
“Yesss I’m so glad we won by 16! VB,” Azzi turned to look at her, adding, “You’re my favorite floor general,” with an exaggerated smile, holding up a heart with her hands and cocking her head to the side.
“Aw, thanks, Az-”
“Not that, bro. What the hell was that moment with you and Paige?” Janelle said impatiently.
“Her what? Paige?” Veronica looked between her and Janelle, confused.
“She’s in love, bro. That’s the first time she’s ever zoned out in a game before.” Gabby explained, laughing.
Azzi threw her towel at Gabby before requesting it back, barely catching it as Gabby chucked it hard at her and splayed it over her lap. “Okay, that’s crazy to say. I’ve talked to her, like, twice.”
“But you zoned out because of Paige? What happened?” Veronica asked, still looking confused.
“Bro, you are not getting out of this. You’ve literally never done that before.” Gabby added.
Azzi sighed as Janelle continued laughing.
Can I just hop out of the sauna now? No, they’d probably follow me. Idiots.
“I don’t even know. I, like, caught her eye or something, and it made me…freeze.” Azzi looked down at her towel and started playing with one of its corners.
Maybe cuz they’re so fucking blue-
“You glanced at blondie and forgot about the game you were playing in?” Veronica started laughing too. “You’re that down bad already?”
She threw her hands up, “I literally am not! I never said I like her! Y’all are idiots.” She added, scoffing, when they laughed even harder.
“Mhm, sure you don’t. But can you be real with us for a sec, Az?” Gabby asked seriously, tilting her head back until it made contact with the wood behind her.
“...okay.” Azzi looked over at her as the three of them (finally) stopped laughing.
“Do you think she’s cute?”
Oh-
“I- um- honestly, kinda? I dunno-” Azzi felt herself blush as she rambled on, catching Gabby’s amused expression. “Okay, yeah, yeah. I think she’s cute, yeah.”
“Sooo you’re into her?” She asked, smirking.
“That’s what it sounds likeeee.” Veronica added very helpfully.
“No, like- y’all don’t get it.” Azzi grumbled, crossing her arms.
“Get what?”
She closed her eyes again. “I don’t like her like that! I hardly know her, like, for real. She’s hot, sure, anyone with eyes can see that. But I don’t know much about her cuz we haven’t talked that much-”
“Oh my god, ‘she’s hot.’ ‘anyone with eyes can see that.’, you’re whipped as fuckkkk.” Azzi blinked her eyes open to glare at Gabby, whose hands were still holding up air quotes.
She clapped her hands together before resting them in her lap. “But I told you some stuff about her your first night here, didn’t I? You know some shit about her.”
“Yeah, I mean, I guess she told me a little more about herself last night, too, but-”
“Wait, what? You two talked last night?” Janelle asked, reaching her arms up and lacing her fingers behind her head.
Fuck.
“Um- yeah, we…talked.”
“When? Where? Spill.”
“Uhhh-”
Azzi sighed again. She recounted last night’s events to the three of them, who were definitely way too interested for Azzi’s liking, starting with the awkward encounter in the elevator and the awkward walk up to the hill.
She conveniently left out her thoughts of Paige looking absolutely mesmerizing in the glow of the moonlight when they had sat together on the bench (Fuck, I’m literally turning just thinking about it-), but felt too guilty about leaving out the whole cuddling part, ending with, “And like- after she asked about how I liked California so far, I like, teared up a lil. So, um, she scooted closer and put her arm around me, like for real, not just over the bench, and started, like, caressing my shoulder, I guess?”
“AWWW.” Gabby interrupted, smiling, as Veronica and Janelle snickered.
“Shut up. I will throw my towel at you again, Gabs. And then, okay, this was just cuz I was tired, k? I was getting pretty tired, it was dark out, and, like, I was comfortable…so I dropped my head onto her shoulder…and we were, like, full-on cuddling…” Azzi covered her face in embarrassment as the trio started hollering.
“OH MY GOD. So you both made a move?”
“And I thought you didn’t have any game.”
“Azzi, this is so surprising. You’re normally so bad at this shit.”
She uncovered her face, looking over at Gabby. “Oh my god. I’m not that bad at flirting, bro.” She leaned back on the bench, sighing again. “But like, yeah, it was cute. ‘n she was blushing the whole time, I swear. She’s just- she- ugh-”
“This is the same Azzi Fudd who claimed she wasn’t whipped as fuck, by the way.” Gabby deadpanned, making both Veronica and Janelle cackle and Azzi roll her eyes.
“Shut up, Gabby. She’s cute, sure, but I’d need to get to know her better first, before…” Her voice trailed away.
Gabby smirked. “So now you’re against just hooking up with her?”
“Dude. When was I ever down for that!?”
“Okay, okay, we don’t needa argue about that.” Veronica butted in, holding out her arms. “So, okay, you think she’s cute, right, Az?”
“And hotttt,” Janelle murmured under her breath, making Gabby giggle next to her.
“...maybe.” Azzi said quietly.
“And you’re not opposed to getting with her, right? You just wanna get to know her better first?” Veronica continued to reason.
“Yeah, I…think so, yes.” She nodded.
“Yay, so you’ll talk to blondie some more, then?” Gabby asked, wiping her face with her towel.
Azzi took a breath before shaking her head. “Nah.”
The three of them wore identical confused expressions.
“Alright, you lost me. Why not?”
Cuz of my evil ex-
“Um, cuz I, like, just got here, to Golden State. I don’t wanna mess anything up by getting with our PR Manager. Like, I’ve been really focused on my career and making decisions that’ll benefit my longevity in the league, this offseason, y’know. I really want to be ‘basketball first’, now that-”
Gabby scoffed and started laughing, interrupting her. “Azzi, what? That sounds like the bullshit we spew to the media. Why’re you saying that to us?”
“Yeah, what was that PR-trained answer?” Veronica laughed, tilting her head.
“I’m being serious, guys.” Three pairs of eyes stared unblinkingly at her. “Deadass! I just wanna focus on my career. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Okay, no, you can focus on your career, of course, that’s a great thing, Az.” Veronica said, sighing. “But Gabby told us how much of a lovergirl you are. There’s a piece of you that’s missing right now. And I dunno if blondie’s the one that has it, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to find out.”
A beat of silence passed.
Then they all started laughing, Azzi too.
“Corny as hell, V.” Janelle said, doubling over.
“Stop! I’m being serious, you guys!”
“Okay, okay,” Azzi started, turning to look at each of them. “I’m just scared, V. What if she doesn’t wanna be with me and I…fuck up our professional relationship or something? I’d still have to see her, like, every day, and that’d be awkward as hell!”
Gabby rolled her eyes. “There already isn’t anything professional about it, Az. She’s been in love with you for years. She literally tried to get me to convince Natalie to let her come to our game at Barclays last year.”
Azzi flushed again. Oh my god, she was THAT down bad?
“Um- shit, that’s actually really sweet, but still-”
“It’s fine if you wanna focus on your career, of course, that’s great. But it wouldn’t hurt to have some support along the way.” Janelle said, adding as Azzi opened her mouth, “A little extra support. More than just us, bro.”
Azzi sighed again, closing her eyes and willing herself not to think about what had happened with her family in New York. She tried to relax further into her seat.
They’re right, it wouldn’t hurt to try…
“If I promise to at least give it a try, will y’all stop bothering me?”
“Yes.” They all chorused at once, though clearly lying.
it’s so crazy because azzi is over there smiling and laughing, paige is smiling too, so why are people assuming the worst out of absolutely nothing? they’ve been like this for years. paige has been coaching her up like this forever. some people just love to start stuff and create drama where there isn’t any. p was literally just hyping azzi up
chapter one: sugar house┊that night has never finished happening.
president's daughter!paige x older!art historian/professor!azzi. men and minors dni.
wc: 20.2k.
synopsis: against the backdrop of her mother's re-election campaign, america's first daughter finds that she wants something different. to lose is not in her nature.
cw: age gap (student/professor, paige is in her early 20s/azzi is in her early 30s), power imbalance, secret relationship, dark romance, unreliable-ish pov (p), obsessive & intrusive thoughts, mild stalking-adjacent behavior, theft (low-stakes), non-graphic mention of paternal death, controlling/emotionally manipulative behavior, mommy issue!p to tha max, wealth disparity, dubious consent, secret identity, slow burn (medium?), vibes-forward pacing, dom!p, sub!azzi.
notes: this is a vaguely political au, and i do mean vaguely. i did not do the homework on how any of this actually works, mechanically, legally, politically, and i'm not going to pretend otherwise. the political backdrop here is mood lighting, not a civics lesson. if you're the kind of reader who wants a deep dive into campaign law or executive protocol, this isn't the fic for that, and i say that with love.
this is also, as tagged, a dark romance. some of what's in here is meant to be uncomfortable. it is not a blueprint; it is certainly not aspirational. it is two people who are, in various ways, bad for each other and also somehow the best thing either of them has ever had. please read the content warnings. take what you need from them and leave the rest. i trust you to know your own limits better than i do, and i'd rather you skip a work than push through something that isn't good for you.
lastly: this fic is nonlinear on purpose, especially early on. it jumps around in time and pov more than once, and it's meant to. a close read will treat you a lot better than a skim will, particularly in the first couple of parts. if something feels disorienting, sit with it before assuming you lost the thread; you probably didn't, i promise, i did that on purpose too, i'm a little cruel like that.
this fic is a labor of love, so please let me know what you think. see you in chapter ii (its completed, just need to edit.)
okay. go. x
prologue i. ⊱ albrecht dürer, ‘mary among a multitude of animals’, c. 1503.
you have to know this first.
it ends, as these things always do, with a picture, with a phone. it’s the digital age after all.
it isn’t her personal. ‘b’ has long learned to be careful with her things, has been careful for a year and then some, has a second one ‘k’ doesn't know the number of that lives in a battered jimmy choo shoebox at the back of her closet - remnants of when her mother ached for her to be a real girl - forced into hiding; a thin glass-metal body, devoid of weight, shameful and small.
so, it starts with someone else's phone, a staffer's, a boy from the comms team who is desperately young, twenty-one and not yet devoid of ambitions, and he finds a photograph he was never meant to, while doing exactly the job he was hired to do: which was to look.
‘b’ leaving a building on the west side at eleven in the evening in a floor-length black khaite coat called roth on the website, a quarter polyamide with a classic collar and open front; a khaite coat that isn't hers. ‘b’ again, four days later, same building, same hour, different coat - mouth fallen open wide at the sky as she laughed, so wide the moon could’ve rolled right down and sat like a pill at the base of her throat. a laugh with a strength that shook her whole face, a high swing of her usually raspy voice, authentic in a way the family's photographers had never once managed to capture in four years of political portraits.
and she has to laugh, really, though she can see the blowup that will reverberate through this townhouse they use as campaign headquarters, yet another detonation; yet another western-kissed bomb. she laughs because she has siblings and they’re all much messier than their mother would like for presidential children, a spill of humanity, caught out in more mortifying ways.
she still remembers last summer when the mockingbirds in her mother’s dust-drowned aviary caught a hook on the word sweetheart, sang a chorus of endearment all summer long: sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart. and then they’d learned her eldest brother was seeing a man twice his years lived, grey at the temple, a mouth that trembled when he said ‘please, sweetheart’ after her brother had sobbed out that he had to let him go.
she hasn’t seen that brother in a week or so.
anyway, the staffer. so, he takes it to someone who takes it to someone else, and by the time it reaches ‘b’s’ mother it has already stopped being a simple good-time photo and has transformed into a liability, a large one; a line item, a problem with tangible shape.
and it’s her mother, so she has to curse at her eldest daughter, storming the house with her claws out. and ‘b’ has to let her draw blood or it’ll never be over. the confrontation happens in ‘b’s’ favorite room, the one with the 290 grand piano (imperial bösendorfer) no one plays and the portraits of several presidents who are decidely not her mother yet but will be again, god willing, in nine months—and ‘b’ stands in the middle of the carpet like a sixth-grader called to the headmistress's office while her mother reads the room the way she reads everything: optics first, feelings somewhere a little further down the line, heart in the grave.
“tell me it isn't what it looks like.”
‘b’ doesn't answer fast enough, and that alone is an answer, and there’s a cleave in her mother's face, a sudden drop that occurs when whatever she's been most afraid of turns out to be true. no softening, never a softening, just recalculating, fast, blank arithmetic spinning; a woman trained in decisions for survival, facing a fact rather than feel it.
“do you ever think? do you ever, for one fucking minute, think about what you do?”
‘b’ closes her eyes, baby blue shut tight, mouth twisting as she feels the ocean rise in her throat. her dad used to call her gaze blue lace agate, chalcedony. he could name all kinds of rocks, did a lot of digging for them.
he died cutting one right wide open.
the backs of her eyes turn from black to that scarlet splatter scored against an emerald geode’s innocent face.
“do you understand what you've done? do you understand what this does to us, six months out, do you understand—”
“i’m always thinking,” ‘b’ says, and that's the mistake, that's the exact wrong thing to say, and her mother's voice goes up and up until it isn't even her voice anymore. it's just sound, raw and furious and completely unfamiliar, the kind of scream ‘b’ has not heard since she was small enough to hide from it behind furniture - curled up against the herculean back of a settee, eyes blank and wide to the wall.
in the aviary off the east hall, where her mother keeps the birds she never has time to enjoy, the mockingbirds catch it. they tend to catch the loudest thing. they will keep it, turn it over, offer it back all week in fragments—a shriek here, furious syllable there—long after the actual fight has been snuffed, hachet still visible in the snow; long after ‘b’ has been sent upstairs to think about what she's done like she’s gone back to nine years old, like she’s never been twenty-two, like there is anything at all to think about that she hasn't already, privately, permanently decided.
she goes back down anyway. she always goes back down. it's the only apology her mother has ever taught her how to give: no use for words, but the body arriving, chastened; ‘b’ in the doorway, white-blonde braid swinging, asking permission to be forgiven for something she intends to do entirely again.
“do you have anything to say for yourself?” her mother demands, and ‘b’ knows the staffers are all huddled outside the door. some of them just can’t stand her.
and she feels like a little girl again, hair loose, barrel curls a shower of gold as her head tilts to the floor and she bores a hole into the shiny tips of her loafers. if only rockwell could paint her now. the reference makes her bottom lip tremble; ‘k’ would like that she made the connection.
she looks up from beneath her lashes, tongue pink and sweet against her teeth, pushing at the front two the way she pushes at ‘k’s when they kiss. behind her, the mockingbirds are still mimicking her mother’s scream from earlier, over and over, a chorus of agony.
she has to keep the smile back as she softens her face and says, “promise you won't be mad?”
she knows she's not in a position to be promised anything.
prologue ii ⊱ ‘from blood, wings’, susie benes, c. 2021.
you have to know this second.
it started as a practicality, and paige turned it into something else before azzi could even notice the shift occurring, agree to its happening.
they needed a way to text that wasn’t a way to text: no names, no nicknames, nothing a stranger could screenshot and place, because paige was already pumped full of paranoia, born and bred of being a public figure whose sentences got decoded by people who were never meant to have read them.
so, it's paige insisting, but then azzi’s idea, actually, the letters; dry and practical the way azzi is dry and practical about anything that frightens her.
“let’s just use initials. how about… ‘b’ and ‘k’? it’s nothing. nobody looks twice at nothing.”
paige considers this for exactly four seconds before she ruins it.
“there’s always something in the nothing.”
azzi’s face falls, and paige feels a roll-over in her chest like fire, dog on its back, a score of disappointment, and she shifts closer so that she can hold azzi by the hand.
“‘b’ and ‘k’,” she tries again, turning it twice over like a coin, testing the weight. “b for baby.”
she says it easy, teasing, watching azzi’s mouth teeter to-and-fro because she wants to smile and won't quite let herself. her lipstick is nearly gone (clinique’s almost lipstick in black honey) and paige wants to kiss the rest off, lick the wax off of her thumb.
“and ‘k’ for—” a beat, theatrical, drawn out for effect. “kryptonite. obviously. you're the only thing that could take me down.”
azzi huffs something that isn't quite her normal laugh, swats paige with the essay draft still in her hand, says something about how paige has clearly spent too much time constructing a bit instead of finishing her final project, and that's the end of it as far as paige’s concerned.
it’s a joke, filed away, the kind of nonsense paige produces when she's pleased with herself and wants an audience.
it is not the end of it for paige.
because what she doesn't say—what she has absolutely no intention of ever saying, not now, maybe not for a long time, maybe not until it's already too late to take back—is that she'd meant something else entirely on the drive over, lying in the back of a car she wasn't supposed to have requisitioned for a “study session,” running the letters over in her head like a rosary.
k for kryptonite is the version she hands over, funny and small and safe, a joke sized to fit in ‘k’s’ palm without cutting her.
k for keeps is the one she actually means. it’s what she’s playing for.
she doesn't examine that too closely. she’s gotten good, ‘b’, at not examining things too closely this past year - at holding a feeling the way you'd hold something too hot, quick, glancing, never quite settling her full weight onto it because she knows herself well enough by now to know what happens when she does.
so she’s ‘b’.
‘b’ is not a person who wants things a little. she has never once, in her entire life, wanted anything a little.
and so she keeps it there, filed under the joke, under kryptonite, under the easy laughing shorthand of two letters on a phone screen, and lets ‘k’ believe it's nothing, because ‘k’ believing it's nothing is the only way ‘b’ gets to keep having it.
that night she texts ‘k’—contact name just the letter, nothing else, the way they've agreed—and stares at it on the screen longer than it warrants, a wave of something silent and enormous moving underneath her like water beneath ice.
and ‘k’ texts back and she forgets, because she’s sometimes messy like that. ‘k’ texts and says, i love you, paige; all formal like she’s written an email.
and ‘b’ puts the phone face-down, because she is paige, because she can’t be anything else, codename shallow, and she tries her hardest to make herself stop.
so, you know, now.
part i. ⊱ stephen mackey, 'we only come out at night', c. 2014.
paige had no illusions about the university chosen for her.
it was far, tucked into the recesses of northernmost vermont, dead center in a town called orlaith that seemed to exist mostly in fog and the constant wet moan of church bells crying a second too late. a town small enough to be walked end to end before the cold really found you, population somewhere around four thousand, which meant most of her professors could keep a wide eye on her, and paige would be incapable of enacting her disappearance the way she had grown so stellar, over the years, at doing.
it was the ideal scenario for her mother—a presidential candidate campaigning for a second term—who had learned, more than once and always the hard way, that a child was easiest to manage when they were at their smallest and watched by everyone around them, all at once.
paige could already feel the dread of it settling low and cold in her stomach, not unlike swallowing water too quickly, that inside-out-burn as you drown, that particular drag of understanding that you are about to waste away somewhere airless and obstinately beautiful.
because orlaith was beautiful, she would give it that much: slate roofs done up in sea green, pine teal, carbon black, charcoal blue; old maples crisping at the edge, passing into the endless amber, nearly left too long in brine; a cold that arrived early in the year and meant every bit of the business it promised, nothing like the manicured warmth she spent a childhood honing for cameras - god in the flash.
she had managed, somehow, to avoid orientation in the flesh, loath to be beholden to the wasp's-nest hum of whispering and the less-than-subtle staring, her back aching against cherry-wood pews set into the amphitheater like church furniture repurposed for hours of excruciating instruction. so far she had met all but one of her professors, and of those she had met, she liked exactly one: dr. taurasi, who took a single look at her, rolled her eyes, and told her, without any warmth, to sit up straight and produce a report on bergman's through a glass darkly within three weeks whether she liked it or not.
paige had liked it despite herself, the tart plainness of being handled like another student rather than a spectacle.
for now, she was living in her brother's apartment, an arrangement her mother had agreed to with visible reluctance, only because paige had fought for it as though it was the last good thing left to her - because, in a way, it was.
ingemar (mar, to the shrinking list of people who loved him) was technically only her half-brother, the product of their shared father's first marriage, gone from the house years before paige was old enough to know him as anyone but the name pinned and scrawled in shaking cursive on the backs of old photographs. but there had been a strange overlapping window, once—where paige was still small and he, already halfway out the door—and something about those years had stuck to them both, permanent without either of them ever choosing it, or managing to get it off their backs.
he was the only one of her siblings who had never once made her feel like competition, and the only one who had left the family circus entirely and come out the other side looking, if anything, lighter.
he was, in a way, her biggest dream.
ingemar lived with nikolaev. niki, to everyone—his full name a name borrowed from a city on the black sea that neither paige nor mar had ever visited. he was older than mar by a stretch wide enough that their mother had had opinions about it for the better part of a year before conceding, silver threading in at his temples like frost finding a windowpane, and an unhurried, immovable calm about him that made paige understand immediately why mar had chosen to disappear into a life this small and warm. niki called him “inge” or “sweetheart,” and mar blushed at both - pale skin sanded with texture and a mole at his right cheek, neck flushed a heavy insectile red.
their apartment sat above what had formerly been a hardware store, built on orlaith's one real street, drafty, and it smelled, almost constantly, of woodsmoke and the coffee niki made far too strong and refused, on principle, to apologize for. the only time it erred from that profile was when it smelled strongly of the fig bath salts mar used after a particularly hard day.
from what paige understood, niki came from money—some hedge fund family or another—and had urged mar to live, only live, and if he must work then to do something he loved. so, her brother had become a piano teacher, and the apartment showed it.
it was two levels (maybe three if you counted the foyer when you entered), the store now converted, and covered almost feverishly in carpet. there was a small touch of dark wood when you first stepped in, so that shoes could be toed off before continuing to the upstairs. the carpet itself was shagged and pink, or maybe only appeared pink in the light—always soft and yellowed, never harsh. though paige would never confess it, she loved going up and down those stairs, toes curled against the landing and usually shielded by whatever oversized trousers she’d chosen to pair with her sweater of the day.
right as you entered, there was a darkness ahead of you. the lower level, which held a bathroom and some space paige never fully got around to exploring. it had seemed frightening to her at first and then grew steadily more compelling the longer she inhabited the flat, though never any less mysterious.
upstairs, the upper level was flooded with light and held a grand piano. a steinway, black and coaxing, lid kept open and propped so you could see its insides; strings gleaming, ribs pulsing red and black as the students pressed a key here and there. that was always paige’s favorite part, when she sat in quietly on a lesson: the punch of a pedal resulting in the jerk of the body, bone lifting from muscle, all that blood resolving into a melody that flowed beautifully if the child had put in enough time to properly learn it.
the room was surrounded by a spread of furniture either covered in sheet music or frames, glass slipped over the smiling faces of people she didn't know. the musical deluge spilled into the dining room, the kitchen, which paige could see from her perch on the navy suede couch against the far wall—especially when her posture was perfect, back ramrod straight.
they had a dog, a little maltese named suzy, who hated anyone who wasn’t niki or mar. she could never be let out while paige was ghosting through the house, and certainly not on the nights mar invited parents to sit in and watch their children play; a first discomfort and embarrassment for many of them, but a good solution to stage fright all the same.
the day paige first arrived, there was a housewarming invitation from some months back, still propped in its frame on the entry table. niki's doing, sentimental in a register he would never have admitted to owning, cardstock gone soft and pale at the corners. in embossed script, it read: the blessings request the pleasure of your company.
paige had stopped dead in front of it.
blessing was niki's surname, not mar's. they were bueckers’ blood, through and through.
her phone was out of her pocket before her coat was even off, a single photograph sent with no caption, and the reply arrived quickly enough that she knew she'd caught him somewhere unguarded, somewhere he wasn't braced for this unforeseen ambush.
» so you’re the one taking his name, then.
« it was not my choice. he had the invites made. i didn't ask him to.
» didn't say you did.
« p.
» you didn’t correct him?
« paige.
» i didn’t mean anything by it. just saying it's sweet.
« well, don't.
she read well, don't three times over, turning it in her head the way you'd turn a stone looking for the smooth side, and knew—the way she knew so much about her family without ever being told forthright—that it wasn't really an order to stop.
it was an old, tired kind of request. their whole family had always spoken about love this way: sideways, at an angle, withheld, terrified of the noise it made once acknowledged. you learned early on to hear the actual sentence underneath the one presented.
what mar meant, she was fairly sure, threading through the single clipped syllable of it, was please don't make me acknowledge this affection, i am not built for it. i have only just learned how not to flinch from its grip; i barely look at it in private.
she saved the photograph anyway. she had a feeling she would need it later: for blackmail, or a moment closer to comfort. possibly both at once.
most things in her family eventually turned out to be both at once.
now she sat nested dead-center of the lecture hall for the single course she had chosen for herself—arth 3692, art history colloquium, a curriculum so extensive it ran the length of the entire sophomore year—taught, apparently, by a newcomer by the name of professor fudd, who was by every account as much an enigma as paige herself and, infuriatingly, rather beloved for it.
every alumnus who had taken her class across the six years she had taught here guarded her like one would guard a priestess, kept her half-secret and precious, closing ranks the moment anyone new so much as asked after her, and had already, in the four days paige had been on this campus, found some way to fault her personally simply for having asked.
for her first day of classes, paige had dressed as though she had arrived somewhere far more highbrow than a lecture hall: oversized fendi sweater in a color like wet bark, pinstriped wool trousers of the same brand pooling loose over polished coal-black loafers, dark leather gloves in the same shade that she had no real reason to keep on indoors except for the fact that she liked the slight rebuke of being fully accesible; a slim gold watch chain at her hip, inherited from a man three generations dead.
she looked, she knew, like she was arriving at a funeral, all of her colors so dark.
she liked that about herself. she had always dressed like a harbinger.
she was unsuspecting of what professor fudd would be wearing when she walked into that colloquium, didn't know yet about that black turtleneck dress, modest at first glance, hem falling well past the knee as if she taught in a convent, the cream curve of the peter pan collar sitting at its neck. didn't suspect the sheer over-the-knee socks beneath it that would only ever be visible in flashes, a slip of dark at the ankle when she crossed the room too quickly or leaned to write something on the board, gone again before anyone could be sure they'd seen it at all.
she didn't know yet that the first time she caught that flash (just a glimpse, just a hint), something in her stomach would flip, would exhale a small, stupid, undignified oh, entirely against her better judgment.
she knew only, sitting there in the amphitheater's flat morning light with her spine straight because dr. taurasi’s voice was still somewhere at the base of her skull telling her to sit up, that she had already decided to act as her default: unimpressed, uninterested.
she would be wrong about that. she was aware, somewhere beneath her familiar fortification, of having been wrong before she had even had the chance to be right.
that peek, that hint—it was the miniature beginning of a sprawling scavenger hunt. she was at the site of discovery, and no one had handed her a shovel. she’d have to lower herself, get on her knees, and feel the twinge in her back as her hands snarled into the dirt.
yes, she’d dig.
the girl didn’t care, and it drove azzi quite mad.
it wasn’t that she was inattentive, exactly. she had never once been caught on her phone, never slouched so far as to be reprimanded, never given azzi the easy satisfaction of an obvious target. it was worse than that. she sat constantly with the aggravating air of one who had already decided the entire enterprise was beneath her, chin propped on one gold-ringed knuckle, gaze fixed somewhere just past azzi’s shoulder as though the real lecture was happening in the middle distance and this one, the one azzi was actually delivering, was simply background noise she was too polite to interrupt.
azzi had taught difficult students before. she had taught bored ones, brilliant ones, cruel ones, sad ones dressed up as bored ones. she had never quite had one who made a show like this, shrouding herself in an outfit of indifference, put on with the same care paige clearly put into everything else about herself.
today’s slide was a photograph of aurelio cabrera y gallardo's san sebastián, the marble saint bound wrist-high to his post, body arched back in a line that could as easily be agony as ecstasy; mouth fallen open on something unresolved between the two, rope biting soft grooves into unmarked stone. azzi had taught this sculpture for six years, this interpretation of saint sebastian, and it had never once failed to snuff out a room—the audience uncomfortable with the detailing of torture and the idea of pleasure found in the act.
azzi allowed the silence to steep, settling backward until the underside of her thighs kissed the cutting edge of her desk. her dark gaze flickered up to where paige was always situated, though today her hair was mussed into two aureate plaits, the braids pinned hastily around her head as though she were a farmer’s daughter. later she would undo them, the mass like nectar poured around her head, and azzi would think of a painting: circle of jean-baptiste regnault, french, ‘danaë’, c. 18th-19th c., detail.
“could someone tell me what themes are being depicted here?” azzi asked, having finally remembered herself, and let the ensuing silence linger a beat too long, waiting to see who would break first.
no one did. paige, predictably, appeared the least inclined of anyone to be the one who broke it. azzi decided, with a perversity that belonged to every teacher who’d ever run out of patience, to aim the next lobby at her.
“alright, you, give it a go. what first stands out to you?”
paige’s eyes came back from the middle distance slowly, almost insultingly slowly, her gaze like pale ice as she assessed azzi in her entirety, face thinly twisted with an expression shy of a challenge but not far from it either.
“well, it's a guy tied to a tree, professor fudd, with a bunch of arrows in him,” she said flatly. “looks like it hurts.”
a current of laughter rippled through the room, grateful for the release. azzi didn’t join it, only crossed and re-crossed her ankles.
“that's a description. i asked what stood out to you, what called.”
“i mean, same thing everyone else does. a martyr. suffering for god, or whatever.” a small shrug, deeply bored, painstakingly put on for an audience of one. “it's not that deep.”
“it is always that deep. never make the mistake of assuming otherwise,” azzi snapped, and something in her own voice caught her slightly off guard, the vehemence. she pushed past it, past the sudden flowering of pink across paige’s cheeks as she minimized under the sudden onslaught of shame. “look again. i’ll instruct you. look not at the wounds, but at his face.”
paige looked, harder this time. azzi observed her study, saw her brow furrow and disrupt her affected disinterest, her face disturbed in the way of a pond's surface holding dead calm right up until a näkki finally moved underneath.
“um, he doesn't really look like he's in pain,” paige spoke slowly, boredom dropping away like a coat. “or, i mean, he does, of course, but it's not just that. his mouth is open like—” she stopped, restarted, selecting her next words with more care than azzi had seen her extend to anything other than a lecture in four weeks.
azzi wondered if she was opening her mouth just like san sebastian, trying to feel her way through his agony.
“like he's somewhere past the objection to it,” paige continued. she sat up straighter without seeming to notice she had done it. “it's a whole conversation, isn't it. god's always pushing. always asking: can i cut a little deeper here, can i take a little more, ouch, look honey, look what you'll get to become if you let me - a saint, a whole halo, your name on a stained-glass window next to mine, somewhere some kid will stare at during a homily, bored to tears in four hundred years.
“you have saints for days built exactly like this. agony and ecstasy…they're not opposites at all, whatever anyone tells you. they're sisters. they used to be sisters. now they're basically twins; nobody can tell them apart anymore, not really, not if you're honest. but honesty doesn’t make the myth.”
she was speaking faster now, words nearly dribbling out, warming to it, rising to it; outrunning whatever guardrails she usually kept up. “that's what's actually being depicted, why the body first draws you in, why his face is hidden, so far back. it’s the illusion. the truth is: he’s not suffering, or not totally, i don’t know—willingness. he’s not fighting his ropes; he's—leaning into them, kind of. like the only way to prove you'd take absolutely everything for someone is to actually take it, in front of witnesses, and let them watch you not flinch.”
the room had gone very quiet in the midst of her analysis. azzi didn’t dare move.
something crossed paige’s face then: an understanding, delayed, a second too late to the realization of how much of herself she’d just handed over to a room full of near-strangers. and the color rushed up her throat in a fast, ungovernable tide—carmine flooding—and she looked down at the desk, at her hands on the flat of it, as if the desk itself had personally betrayed her.
“anyway,” she muttered, duller now, retreating. she sat, making them all wonder when she had stood up. “but it probably isn’t that deep. some things aren’t, i don't know.”
no one else in the room said anything for a long moment. azzi was aware, distantly, of twenty-nine other students she was meant to be teaching at the moment, and of the fact that she had not thought about a single one of them in the last ninety seconds.
“ouch?” azzi repeated, letting a smile play about her mouth. paige glanced up and found its gentle curve before it fled.
“ouch,” she echoed, a confirmation.
azzi nodded, smiling fully now before turning away.
“well done,” she offered, tossed over her shoulder, and it came out quieter than she’d meant it to, quieter than her usual praise, which she engaged in generous volume for lesser insights all the time.
paige’s mouth tugged up, pleased, trying incredibly hard not to look so pleased, and for one second a note of something else underneath that azzi didn’t have time to get a handle on before it was erased. clearing her throat, azzi reached for the syllabus bound and spiraled atop her own desk, an ordinary shape for that of her own authority.
“since apparently some of us do have thoughts that develop past a shrug—five hundred words. pick two works discussed in class from the semester so far and argue for a relationship between them. due in two weeks.”
there was a chorus of pained groans, and azzi relaxed at the familiar sound of her students’ whining, crossing behind to her chair as the theater emptied in the edgeless scrape and shuffle of bags and chairs. paige took her time gathering her things, unhurried, always last, and was nearly at the door—nearly clear—when azzi, not once looking up from the roster in front of her, called out.
“if you want to punish yourself with a dedicated lack of attention and failing this course, that's entirely your business. feel free.” a pause. “but i will punish you for acting as though you're stupid when i need you to rise to the occasion. i only take thirty students, paige. you aren't here for decoration.”
paige stopped in the doorway, turning laggardly, a flicker of emotion playing over her face before she tamped it into an expression like stone.
“are you insinuating, professor,” she said, “that next time you'll humiliate me?”
azzi glanced up then, and held paige’s gaze for far longer than the question strictly required.
“god is always pushing.”
for once, paige had nothing at the ready to say back, her own words turned against her. she stood there a second too long, light coming in behind her eyes; a bulb changed, product of being caught out twice in one hour. and then,
“the first day? i liked your socks.”
azzi froze, her pen suspended in mid-air, mind struggling to clamp down on the conclusion that paige had somehow been privy to what was under her dress. and it was only when the door eased shut on its own weight that she found the ability to look up again, only to find an empty threshold, the door itself cracked open to allow in a shadow of the real world.
hum of the hall outside it, no paige in it at all.
the assignment really was nothing: five hundred words minimum, comparative visual analysis, pick two works from the syllabus and argue for their relationship—and yet.
paige turned in four hundred and twelve words of something so carelessly, infuriatingly good that azzi sat with it open on her laptop for a long time after the rest of the submissions had been graded. she wasn’t quick to anger by nature but close to it now; a body dressed up as anger, wearing it badly, really a cousin. that was the head of the feeling. the heart of it, she found, sitting there in the grey light of her shitty one-bedroom studio with all other essays long finished, was nearer to delight.
and the fury, she'd admit only to herself, was mostly a form of offense, like handing over a gift and watching someone shrug at the wrapping, holding yourself hostage from the urge to rip their throat clean out.
because paige hadn't tried. that was the thing that got her.
azzi had had high hopes for having inspired some real interest in the course since the san sebastián discussion. the way it had piled up on itself, unbidden, overflow spilling from the girl's pert mouth. but now it read as though paige sought to reprimand azzi for forcing her hand at all. her strike back was this essay, in which she'd paired seurat's le cirque with chagall's l'écuyère - a choice that spoke well to a hidden attention to detail, a proclivity azzi hadn't let herself hope for until now.
it wasn't the moonlit lovers everyone reached for when they thought, minorly, of chagall, but the rider mid-air, weightless, her face turned somewhere the viewer could never follow. and the argument—half-formed as it was, half-won as it was—had an organic spine to it: a loose commentary on how both painters used the circus as a place where the body performed function for an audience that would never once wonder whether the function was real, assuming it was because they'd paid for it and so expected a service. how the paintings could be read as studies in the loss of autonomy—le cirque by way of the audience, l'écuyère by way of the rider herself, held to the horse by a man barely visible in the frame—and the commodification of the human spirit that followed from it.
it was a garden of sentences hidden, rather cleverly, in the dirt of an assignment that otherwise fell apart. fruitless, possibly written at two in the morning, one paige hadn't bothered to finish developing, because why would she? it was due at nine, and she had better things to care about than a class she'd chosen as neutral ground in an otherwise fraught schedule.
god, it was like pulling teeth, azzi thought, scribbling madly.
see me after class in red at the top, and underneath it, smaller, because she couldn't help herself: this is not a c+ idea. it is a c+ execution of an a idea, which was arguably an inch too much taken.
paige read the note on her walk to her week's sole biochemistry lab, brows raised, and showed up to office hours highly armed; chin up, ready for a fight she'd decided to instigate and enjoy well in advance. she'd had her hair redone that week, ice blonde, the dye still fresh enough to catch light differently than it had before, and she was dressed, as always, like a symbol of death: black prada turtleneck sweater, wool trousers in a soft slate grey, prada loafers that had never once touched anything undignified, not even a little rain.
azzi had learned by now not to react to any of it, though it cost her something immeasurable and private every time.
her office was small in the way most of the humanities offices were small and underfunded, one narrow window facing the quad, a radiator moaning through the space in ancient argument, and books stacked in tremulous towers that only needed a bare breeze to topple. but it was hers in every visible way a rented room could be.
azzi hadn't planned on anyone being in to see her that afternoon beyond the ordinary trickle of office hours, and so she’d dressed for herself rather than for a lecture hall: black ribbed sweater, mellowed and shapeless with wear, a grey pleated skirt she’d owned since graduate school, tall black calfskin boots, a single thermal glove she'd forgotten to take off after crossing campus, sitting discarded now on the corner of the desk - shed skin.
"i don't see the problem,” was paige’s greeting.
azzi closed her eyes, prayed briefly for strength.
"you’ve gotten a grade that reflects what you were willing to give it," she answered, peering intently at a fresh stack of freshman essays she was trying, with some difficulty, to grade fairly, "which is not the same as what it's worth. sit down."
"i have somewhere to be."
"according to the scheduling office, you have approximately four hours until your next commitment, and we both know it." azzi finally looked up. "sit down, paige, and read this to me."
paige sat, body rigid with discomfort, disgruntled at not being let off easy, a pale hand coming forward to angle the red-marked paper toward herself.
“‘although stylistically distinct, chagall and seurat intersect in their exploration of the performing body as a site of commodification, where individual autonomy is compromised by spectacle. in le cirque, this critique is made explicit through the ever-present audience, whose collective gaze reduces performers to objects of consumption. in l'écuyère, however, the same tension is conveyed more subtly through the central rider, whose body is secured to the horse by the waist, suggesting both physical restraint and dependence.
“‘the man who holds her remains only partially visible, yet his presence reinforces her constrained position, implying a loss of agency even as she occupies the center of the composition. rather than depicting the audience directly, chagall locates the mechanisms of control within the performance itself, where the rider's body becomes the focal point of spectacle and an object subject to another's authority simultaneously.’”
“mmm," azzi said. she leaned back, tapping a long plum nail against the desk's dark face. “and why was this thesis dropped so carelessly into the generally shoddy work you turned in to me, rather than expanded and centered upon? there are places, marked in green, where your work reads as genuinely exceptional. and places, marked in pink, where your care bleeds through. the circus is a pressure point for you. you struggle to stay impersonal about it. why? and why are you ignoring that? this could have been an easy a, paige. honestly.”
and this, this was the part azzi would turn over later, on her stomach in the dark, once things had gone somewhere neither of them had intended. this was the second time she was privy to watching paige’s collapse, her practiced posture faltering, caught unaware by a genuine question posed by someone who plainly intended to wait for a genuine answer as its match.
“um.”
azzi let her gather her thoughts, scratching out another misspelling with a firm drag of her wrist. paige watched the red scar on the page like it might reveal something about herself in this moment.
“my grandfather took me to see one,” she said finally, and it came out a little cracked, her voice lowering as she went on, unable to fully stop it. “a circus. before it all.”
azzi knew paige’s family was of importance, though dean baltazaar had remained tight-lipped about the exact level of it. but she knew no one of consequence with the surname blessing. a search—done once, guiltily, late at night—had turned up nothing but a rather unremarkable piano teacher.
“i don't really remember it. i remember the tent smelled like popcorn and hay, and i remember not being scared during the trapeze part, when every other kid around me was crying. i liked watching people be that good at something dangerous and make it look like nothing.” a pause, her eyes gone somewhere distant and half-lit, chasing the memory. “there was a woman, a wire-walker, who didn't smile once. everyone else up there smiled the whole time, big and practiced, teeth out for the cheap seats, and she just refused. she was so focused on not falling, as if she were the only real thing in the entire tent and everyone else was decoration around her. i think she was hellbent on not breaking her neck.” her mouth twitched, shy of a laugh, no true humor in it. “i liked being dangerous, too, as a little girl. now, too, i guess.”
paige shrugged, already shuttering closed, reaching instinctively for a bit of armor. "i don't know. it's not that deep."
“it's exactly that deep," azzi said, a callback to their lecture interaction, hushed but purposeful, and didn't push further, because she'd already learned this much of the code: that paige gave things up like small animals slinking out of hiding, coaxed forward only if you refrained from reaching for them the second they appeared.
“we'll redo the essay. together,” azzi offered. "over the next few weeks."
paige was surprised by that; azzi could tell, though azzi had always been rather more than what people suspected of her at first glance.
“which is to say, you'll redo it, and i'll refuse to stop letting you redo it," she clarified dryly, “and you'll hate me for pushing you so hard, and you'll learn eventually that i can never let a good thing go once i've seen it properly. you're deeply attuned to this work, paige. you have the mind for it. i won't let you pigeonhole yourself into failure as some act of resistance. there are other ways to stand your ground that don't cost you an a.”
paige said nothing in return, briefly stupefied, and azzi motioned for her to gather her things.
she wasn't in any particular hurry to leave. she had been logging azzi for four weeks now without meaning to, or without admitting that the meaning had ever been separate from the doing. she could have reproduced her from memory if asked, habits included.
azzi’s coffee had gone cold an hour ago at her own elbow, and azzi hadn't noticed, hadn't so much as glanced at it, entirely unbothered by the small deaths of ordinary things around her. paige collected these qualities like stones from a beach—not out of longing, necessarily, nothing so soft as longing—but out of a colder, more helpless compulsion to simply have, to hold some proof afterward that she had been paying the closest attention in the room.
it was on her way out that she saw it: azzi’s purse, paloma philana in wine, tipped where it sat against the desk leg, its contents spilled in a small accident onto the floor: a gas receipt, a set of keys, a slim gold tube of lipstick uncapped and rolling, and beside it a lip liner, the good kind, tip worn soft at the corners, aching for a sharpener.
paige crouched and gathered both.
“you dropped this,” she said, holding out the liner alone, face perfectly arranged, and set it on the desk. the lipstick she kept closed inside her fist, metal growing warm from her own palm the longer she stood there.
azzi took the offered pencil, smiling wide with gratitude. paige stepped away, stopping on her way to the door, gaze swimming up the wall to behind azzi’s head, where a lempicka hung. an original, so well kept that most students assumed it a reproduction; a woman rendered in hard, confident planes of color, chin lifted, entirely unbothered by being looked at.
paige studied it a moment longer, then let her gaze fall back down to azzi, whose face was bent away from her toward the essays.
“you know, you look just like her,” she said into the quiet, not quite looking at azzi as she said it, already half out the door, tossing it back like it cost her nothing at all.
in her periphery, she could see when azzi offered a crooked smile, glancing back at the painting. “never heard that one before.”
paige turned around at that, hand still on the handle.
“you do. it's the mouth. just a little too full.”
that evening, alone in her brother's bathroom with the tap running and suzy scratching faintly at the door, paige rolled up the lipstick and drew it to herself; tracing a careful line across her cupid’s bow in the mirror's unkind reflection. she watched herself become, for just a second, someone else.
she cleaned up the excess with a manicured nail, carving out pigment until her mouth was perfectly outlined.
it wasn't her color.
part ii. ⊱ john simmons, 'hermia and lysander’, c. 1870.
the first of what would be many walks occurred on a tuesday in late november.
in orlaith, november was a verb. something the year did unto itself, the way a hand closed. winter had begun its long weeping, benighting the early afternoons until they dissolved into a sea of black with stars driven into its face like nails, eventually obscured by the great grey swallow of storm clouds. the threat of snow imminent, the speckle of it fragmented.
on this first occurrence, paige walked into the office without knocking. she’d taken up the habit of never knocking, not once, not even in the earliest weeks of their tutoring sessions, the essay long completed. this was not rudeness—eros didn’t knock either; sappho told us he came like a thief, came like an animal shaking a tree—it was simply that some people experienced every boundary as mere suggestion and paige was one of them, hair grasped back low into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, a few pieces already come loose; the fraying of a traditional system.
she said, by way of greeting,
“let’s go on a walk.”
this was not a request. ask amy fuller what the difference was between a request and a verdict. she would tell you: tone. though her daughter had cleaved to her father’s side amid divorce, when you peered into the glass from its side, she was her mother all the same.
azzi redirected her gaze from the rather passive-aggressive email she’d been copied into this morning—something to do with the lack of adequate parking space near the humanities building—to the hard line of paige’s jaw, one dark brow arriving well ahead of the rest of her expression.
“good afternoon to you too, paige.”
“good afternoon,” paige mocked, already reaching for her coat off the back of the chair, as though the matter had been settled before the proposal had finished, settled somewhere upstream of this room. “god, azzi. just say hello.”
“professor fudd,” azzi corrected, her lips flattening with irritation. somebody had to hold the line. “i have office hours. another forty minutes of them, to be exact.”
“no one’s coming,” paige returned, not unkindly, simply as fact. “it's tuesday. your tuesday people are the two idiots who dropped last week and the boy who emails you constantly instead of coming in, because he's frightened of you. you told me that yourself.”
azzi opened her mouth to object to the sheer range of presumption: the walk-in unannounced, the diagnosing of her own schedule back to her, the casual theft of an hour she had yet to freely offer. and she did not, in fact, tell paige that herself.
she found, with a rather reclusive irritation, that she had no actual objection ready, only the abstract sense that she ought to have one. paige had a way of doing this to her - arriving at a request already so certain of its reasonableness that arguing against it felt less like the defense of a boundary than being difficult for its own sake.
this is what people meant when they said disarmed. it was not that the weapon had been taken, but that you found your hand already empty when you went to check, and couldn’t remember when it had gone.
paige was, azzi noted, dressed for the walk already. overdressed for a quad-crossing, if she were honest, bundled instead for dense weather. a heavy wool overcoat, cut for a man twice her width and worn close to her silhouette. it had clearly been tailored for her instead of the body it had most immediately been designed for.
sleeves pushed to the forearm, the reveal of her veins, blue lace snake under an ivory swathe of skin; underneath it a plain white undershirt, one you could find folded in a father's dresser drawer. dark trousers, crease down the center, sharp enough to speak to having been pressed that very morning. combat boots, unlaced at the top, somehow erring from appearing sloppy, as though her constant disregard for her appearance was often considered from several angles before being permitted out the door.
for a moment, paige was turned from her and azzi could see the ripple of muscle along the bend of her back. the movement made her stomach stutter, the flex of such obvious youth deterring her from protest.
caspar david friedrich, wanderer above the sea of fog, german, c. 1818.
she assigned the painting in a flash of thought: the back turned, the vastness, the fact that you never did see the man’s face, only his posture, held - the view at his command, under his possession only by virtue of standing in front of it.
azzi had noticed all of this weeks ago. she had told herself, weeks ago, to stop. limited success. she caught on to it all, every symptom of paige’s existence.
the way paige dressed was nearly exclusively from a wardrobe that belonged, by every rule azzi had ever been taught, to the opposing sex: sharp-shouldered coats, ties worn loose and unknotted around an open collar, trousers cut for a body with none of paige’s actual softness. no room for the give of her hips or the gentle expansion of her thighs. on anyone else they would have been borrowed, simply a girl in her brother's costume, a joke about gender, over by morning. yet somehow the woman made all of it look more like a semblance of correction, adjusting for error; as if the clothes had simply been cut for the wrong person all along and paige was only now setting the record straight.
“you can't keep doing this,” azzi told her, without much conviction. she was already closing the laptop.
“doing what, exactly?”
“assuming the importance of my time, taking it upon yourself to designate what i'm doing with my afternoon, using me as a way to avoid your other term work.”
paige turned to face her, considered this with the mildest shadow of a smile; humoring a rule she had no intention of ever actually following.
“you could say no.”
“i am saying no.”
“you're putting your coat on while you say it.”
azzi glanced down at herself. half into the coat already. evidence, if anyone needed it, that the mouth and the hands did not always work for the same government.
she told herself, buttoning it, that this was supervision; a professor keeping half an eye on a student prone to disappearing off campus without telling anyone. duty of care, dressed as an afternoon off. she was aware, as she constructed the reasoning, how little weight the joists could hold, how little she could actually bear.
“besides,” paige added, stepping in close. almost lazily, she reached out to fix the scarf at azzi's throat. “i like most of my other term work. we’re reading a short story in professor bird’s class, a joy williams. quite good, surprisingly.”
this close, azzi could smell her: the heady rush of peony, lily-of-the-valley, a bit of green—stephanotis?—a thread of black tea, apple gone warm under water steeped with spices.
“you smell lovely,” spilled outward before azzi could stop it, her fingers curling at her sides as if to claw them back.
too late for that kind of prayer.
“yeah?” paige answered, eyes alive with a sudden light, delighted, halfway to the joke. “it’s called ‘had me at hello.’”
at that, azzi did laugh.
the grounds were halfway to hibernation, bare maples gone black-limbed against a sky drained to the color of skimmed milk, the lake road empty enough that their footsteps were the only solid sound for the first fifteen minutes. snow had not yet arrived, but was clearly rehearsing for it in the close cold.
paige walked with her hands in her coat pockets and, as always, in no particular hurry, matched her pace to azzi’s without seeming to think about it. azzi wondered what it was like to languish in that luxury, to know that you were always afforded time.
halfway down the road, she produced—from seemingly nowhere; perhaps some inner pocket, some infinitesimal, unbroachable logic of paige’s own devising—a slim gold case. she held it out, the object rolling sluggishly about her palm. it was beautiful, a thick beginning, tapered in toward the middle, then flaring out again, a deep engraving of roses embellishing its top, the name of the shade lurking shyly at the bottom in looping, black script.
“here.”
azzi took it on reflex before she’d even registered what it was. a lipstick. new, sealed, a shade lighter and colder than the one she actually wore, a pink that bordered on red, vermilion at the tip but a lush rose closer to the bottom. a shade that she had been brought to tears over, having thought she lost it, having scoured the large shops and the boutiques only to come up empty-handed.
“i’ve—i don't need—it wouldn’t be—”
“i know what it wouldn’t be. i know all of that, but thank you for telling me.” paige was already looking elsewhere at the lake, at nothing, the offering made and immediately treated as though it required no further discussion. azzi suddenly felt chastened. “it's not really about you needing it. it's just yours now.”
azzi turned the case over once in her gloved hand and decided not to inquire further. she put it in her coat pocket instead, where it sat the rest of the walk; a small, unaccountable weight.
“do you know who i am?” paige asked it lightly, conversationally, a question that could have been nothing at all. the wind-up to a wisecrack, an opening for flattery—except that the steel underneath it wasn’t lightweight at all.
she was waiting closely, very still, to see what azzi had to say, would inevitably say.
azzi considered it, genuinely, turning the actual available facts over: the name on the roster, the surname higher staff had kept mum about, the utter absence of anything when she’d searched it in a weaker moment.
“you’re a blessing,” she offered.
something crossed paige’s face then: brief, unreadable, gone before azzi could properly catch it. a door opening a crack onto a room she didn’t yet know existed, and closing again just as fast.
“yes,” paige said.
it wasn't quite a lie. it also wasn't, azzi would understand much later, anything close to the truth.
“the tuesday boy,” azzi said, a little further on, apropos of nothing, mostly to fill the quiet. “the one who emails instead of coming in. how do you know that he's scared of me? i didn’t tell you that.”
“yes, you didn’t,” paige agreed, smiling crookedly, unashamed at her deception. “he told me.”
“you two talk?”
“we’ve…talked. only once,” paige said it without a hint of emotion, decidedly closing the subject rather than continuing it, and something in the way she said it made azzi acquiesce, wisely or not.
she did not ask what, exactly, had been discussed in that one conversation, or why a boy who’d emailed apologetically on multiple occasions in october had simply stopped emailing at all by the middle of november.
azzi filed her unease about it away with everything else about paige she'd decided, for now, not to hold to the light.
it was on the walk back, cutting behind the chapel where the path narrowed, and the last of the other students crossing campus were well out of sight, that paige stopped her with two fingers hooked lightly into the collar of azzi’s coat.
azzi went still. it wasn't quite a touch, barely that, two fingers and the fabric between them. and yet, she felt it the way you'd feel a hand actually laid flat against the skin, every place paige wasn't touching suddenly as loud as the place she was. paige tugged the collar closed properly, adjusting it the way you'd fix something on a child, and stepped back before azzi could decide how to respond to any of it.
“get a better coat,” she instructed. “you're always cold.”
and then she was walking again, already three steps ahead, as if she hadn't just put her hands on a woman ten years her senior in broad daylight and left azzi standing there, mouth ajar, body still swaying into the phantom motion, heart as quick as a hare underneath her scarf.
the following tuesday, there was a butter-yellow garment bag hanging on the top-most hinge of her office door when she arrived.
there was no note and the absence of a return address; the bag otherwise plain except for the calligraphy logo of one of the most expensive department stores in the state. inside, folded and arranged with care: a floor-length espresso colored coat, wool heavy enough to promise certain warmth against the worst vermont winter. below the lapel, where the buttons should have sat on the left, a soft dark lining of vintage mink, worn just enough at the edges to prove it had a history that predated paige by decades. there was a detachable belt lazing about both sides, clearly intended to be the method of closure.
azzi stood in front of the open bag for a long time before she finally touched it. she thought, distantly, of asking someone what a coat like this cost. she knew the number would be torturous. she thought, more clearly, that she did not actually want to know the answer, because the knowledge of it would make it impossible to keep it as she pretended it was: a small thing, a student’s odd, oversized gesture of thanks.
she thought of the lipstick still sitting, unused, in the pocket of her old coat, a better place than the mess of her handbag. she would return it to paige, insistent that she could not take this.
yes, she would.
for a moment, her curiosity won out over propriety, and she slipped the coat on, found it fit her perfectly. her hand slid into the pocket at the right side, the cut talentfully hidden, its seam only noticeable by touch, and felt her finger cut across the top of a square of cardstock. she pulled it free, flipping it over to find words written in a familiar hand.
if i didn’t, you wouldn’t.
that was all.
azzi didn’t need any more to know it was her.
“was niki crazy about you?”
ingemar let his eyes flutter open from where they had slid closed, and side-eyed his sister. often, he and suzy made the same expression. the thought made paige nearly burst, and she lifted a hand, pretending to wipe her mouth free of dinner as she worked to hold her laugh.
“god, you just say anything, don’t you? nothing held back,” mar drawled, accepting the hovering cup of rosehip tea, the accompanying saucer crafted of fine china just like the mug sat atop it. he reached out a hand to niki’s retreating arm, squeezing gently in a silent deliverance of gratitude. “i don’t know, to answer your question. my niki was a vault when we met, as was i.”
“why do you talk like you’re in a fucking movie?” paige groused, and niki smiled, pleased at her annoyance.
“i was,” came the quiet admission, forcing both their necks to crane beyond them, locating niki where he leaned against the kitchen doorway. “exceptionally so, i think. nearly transferred the case when i realized.”
mar had been his client, paige recalled now. oh, the danger, the complexity. but their family never wanted anything they didn’t have to work for.
“how sweet,” paige said drily. mar hit her. “but i meant more—i don’t know. did you ever feel like this tide, this sense of going insane, the slow drag of it. a—a madness.”
“wow, that literature class is truly getting through to you. glad to see the youth impacted by the works of today.”
now paige hit him. niki let out a laugh as mar pretended to be wounded, then disappeared back into the kitchen, the tap running as he returned to washing. it was only when he’d been at the washing for a dish or two that mar turned to his sister, gaze frigid as he hunkered down.
“yes,” he murmured, voice low. “i felt like that. it was like being a car run down, then someone came and fixed it, and i was revving and revving. do you—do you remember that horse you tried to claim as yours when dad paid for your equestrian lessons? how it bucked and threw you, kicked you in the chest with its hindleg, and dad thought you were one short a screw because you kept trying to get back on?”
paige remembered.
she had been eleven, perhaps twelve, a collection of knees and elbows, forever growing faster than her limbs knew what to do with themselves, bones unconvinced of their certainty. every saturday morning, her father delivered her to the stables before sunrise, the paddocks still argent with frost, each fence paling beneath a skin of mist. the horses steamed gently in the cold, their breath rising from dark nostrils, the ensuing smoke like shrine offerings.
even now she could summon the smell before anything else: the dampest hay, saddle soap, sweet feed dissolving into mud, the mineral tang of rusted iron and animal heat. it had lived somewhere deep inside her ever since.
they had assigned her a gelding named samson, chestnut and broad through the shoulders, with a white blaze that wandered crookedly between his eyes as though someone had painted it, brush quavering with an unsteady hand.
he isn't yours, her instructor corrected whenever paige called him mine. my horse. she never abided, pushed on anyway.
everyone else left when lessons finished, but she lingered. paige learned where the muscles beneath his neck softened underneath her fingers, discovered he preferred to be scratched beneath the jaw instead of along his poll, tucked sugar cubes into the pocket of her riding coat until they dissolved into sticky crystals against the lining.
she polished tack she hadn't dirtied, brushed him until copper hairs floated through the stable, set on fire in the afternoon light. sometimes she simply stood in his stall while he ignored her entirely, convinced proximity itself would fix their divide.
surely affection accumulated. surely devotion gained weight. surely living things eventually leaned toward the hand that returned often enough.
samson disagreed.
it happened in less than a second. one moment she was seated deep in the saddle, smug with the certainty that today would bear fruit, and the next her world had turned over. a violent arch of muscle; the impossible suspension before gravity yoked her to the earth’s face. a sudden swell of clear sky, then the mineral kiss of dirt.
the crack of her helmet against the packed earth rang loudly enough that the entire arena seemed to tremble in its aftermath. she didn’t cry; she refused to. she remembered lying there more irritated than anything else, blinking profusely up through the latticework of the roof while adults descended around her in a swarm of polished boots and worried mouths. someone held her shoulders down as another asked whether she knew her own name.
but all paige could see was samson.
he’d trotted several yards away before stopping, calm already. he’d only needed to get rid of her. his ears flicked lazily toward a pigeon perched on the fence, and paige watched as a groom caught his reins with embarrassing ease. he did not appear guilty in the slightest nor triumphant. he looked exactly as he had been, before she'd ever loved him.
the kick had come later.
against every instruction, paige had risen, marched back across the arena, cheeks muddy, lip split, ribs aching with her every breath. her father was shouting now, one hand around the instructor's arm while the other reached uselessly for her. she ducked beneath it.
she remembered the warmth radiating from samson’s flank before she remembered the pain. another flash of that chestnut hide, another explosive coil of cultivated muscle. then the hind hoof met her square beneath the ribs with enough force to empty her lungs all at once.
there was no immediate pain, but an absence. air ripped from her body so visciously, so completely, that she became convinced, for one immaculate second, that she had died.
they carried her out.
she was back the following saturday. and the saturday after.
her instructor stopped trying to reason with her after a month of her tenacity. her father suggested another horse, but she refused. samson never did grow kinder; never once softened because she had remained. he never acknowledged the private mythology she had built around the two of them.
what unsettled her now, years later, was not that he had thrown her. it was that she had never once considered loving him any less. the possibility had not ceased to exist. she had only wondered what she ought to change about herself to make him finally permit it.
“it was like that, but endless.”
paige blinked, brought out of her head, eyes still focused intently on the view outside the window.
blue lace agate, mar thought fondly.
“but it ended, didn’t it?” she asked, and she sounded younger than she really was. “you’re with niki now. he let you on.”
mar laughed, chucking her chin before tossing off the blanket as he stood.
“oh, żabka. i was the horse.”
the slide changed, and azzi’s voice changed with it, somehow denser with love as opposed to the stark professionalism she afforded all other paintings on the syllabus.
john william waterhouse's lamia and the soldier swallowed the screen whole. the room had dimmed, and somewhere above them the projector exhaled into life with a mechanical click of its throat, pale december morning come knocking only to withdraw by various degrees behind lowered blinds. in the darkness, everyone was illuminated by that strange blue-white glow unique to the screen and hospitals, a light that diminished faces while making the dust’s waltz past appear almost celestial. particles drifted lazily through the beam between projector and canvas, rising and falling without urgency, visible only because something brighter insisted upon passing through them.
azzi stepped into that light without seeming to notice. she had exchanged the severe black dresses she’d favored at the start of term for softer fabrics as winter continued to hold over.
today she wore ivory silk, matte where it lay still and suddenly luminous whenever she moved beneath the projector's light. the neckline skimmed the collarbones without ornament, save for a small embroidered moon resting over one shoulder and a pompeian-blue dragon at the hip, gold thread catching now and then like a fish turning beneath water. the hem refused symmetry, dipping lower behind her until it trailed half a thought after every step, as though the dress possessed a slower understanding of departure than the woman inside it. her shoe of choice was a modest, beige kitten heel with a bow shrugging sadly over the straps, top pieces striking meekly against the flooring as she walked.
paige wondered whether the choice had been a deliberate call to the watercolor workings of the piece under discussion. it was impossible not to, standing beneath waterhouse's lamia dressed almost as though azzi had wandered quietly from the painting’s edge. the coincidence irritated paige. she disliked not knowing when something meant something.
there existed no wasted movements within azzi. everything she did possessed the economy of long practice. she uncapped the marker with one hand, rested the cap precisely on the lectern. her lithe, brown fingers folded around her clicker as though they had always belonged there, and paige thought about what it would be like to have those fingers around her arm.
“waterhouse, 1905. lamia and the soldier.”
paige looked dutifully to the painting, then back. then, irritated with herself, returned to the painting.
she sat where she always sat, dead-center, spine straight from four months of dr. taurasi’s voice living permanently at the base of her skull, and did not take a single note.
on the screen: a woman kneeling at a soldier's feet in a wood gone dim and close around them, a hand on his knee, her face turned up toward his in an expression that could either be seen as adoration or the breath held before a bite. often, it felt the same. at her hip, faint, half-shed, the last iridescent scales of a serpent's skin not entirely gone, not entirely human. she’d been caught in the single worst moment of any transformation, the moment where you could still see both things you used to be and were trying, so hard, to cease being.
“the myth predates the painting by roughly two thousand years," azzi continued, pacing the small stage the lectern gave her, hands loose, unconscious, shaping the air as she spoke as if to sculpt the point directly into their young, impressionable minds. “lamia was a woman first. a queen, in some tellings. loved by zeus, cursed by hera for it, and the curse took her children. every one of them, one after another, until grief itself turned her, transfigured her into something else. a serpent from the waist down. a devourer of other people's children, in the crueler versions. but keats’ version, which waterhouse is painting here, gives her one mercy: the chance to become a woman again, just briefly, to love a man who has no idea what she actually is.”
someone near the back asked whether the soldier ever found out. they were at the point of rapture now, fully entrenched in the atmosphere of learning under professor fudd, wholly devoted to her for the remainder of time under her tutelage.
paige watched azzi’s mouth rise in a half crescent, joyous at the question being self-professed rather than forcefully excavated.
“he does, yes,” azzi answered. “that is one facet of its tragedy. the moment he sees her, transparently, glimpsing what she really is beneath the disguise love let her wear—she can't survive it. she doesn't turn into a monster in front of him. she simply vanishes. the myth seems to suggest those aren't different endings.”
the words arrived, meaning did not. paige did not write any of this down, though she knew she should have. this was bound to be on the midterm. she understood every individual component of the sentence, watched each settle neatly into place beside the last like brick inlaid to a wall, yet together they refused to become anything more. they remained only brick.
her attention slipped. nothing so obvious; a shoulder easing quietly from its socket, a tiny displacement that nevertheless rendered the whole limb unusable. her gaze found azzi’s face again with the unconscious inevitability of a compass returning north.
her bracelet had come undone, 18-karat gold if paige had to guess, mother-of-pearl, intricate charms in the shape of clubs interspersed along its thin chain. the clasp had fallen half open, a lobster closure. it had loosened enough to allow the bracelet to fall lower each time she lifted her arm toward the screen, revealing the narrow inside of her wrist before falling obediently back into place.
again.
again.
silly thing to notice. sillier still to notice it repeatedly. paige dragged herself back to the slide.
“…victorian audiences preferred monsters they could desire,” azzi said. “desire became significantly easier to regulate if it first announced itself as something dangerous.”
paige sat very still at that, and thought, with a clarity that frightened her slightly even as it arrived: i understand it. i don't know how to have you.
the desire was not specifically the issue. paige knew how to want things. wanting had never once been the difficult part of her life. she had wanted with ferver, from the horse then onward; wanted her mother’s undivided attention on the few occasions a year she was permitted it, wanted her father back, wanted her mother to lose her cool in front of the cameras so the world could see her as she was instead of always, always finding the angle that made her look like the most reasonable in the room.
desire was easy. it asked nothing of you except the capacity to keep going after being refused. having was the part paige had never been taught.
she watched azzzi’s hands flutter with her enthusiasm, thought about the coat that had sat in her own closet before hanging now in azzi’s; worn, kept, the note read and understood exactly as intended. in her chest there wasn’t triumph at all, though it should have been. it felt closer to what had stained her when she’d stood dutifully at the edge of that stall, age eleven, sugar melting sticky in her pocket, certain that enough proximity would eventually be mistaken for enough love.
pens scratched all around her, and paige blinked, glancing down at her ipad, so starkly different from the performative moleskins bulging at the seams in various totes and shoulder bags. where there should have been a page on keats and waterhouse, there were observations so minute they bordered on absurdity.
no ring.
ambidextrous.
laughs first through her nose, then out.
thirty-two, a birthday in november, already passed.
struggles in tall heels.
paige stared at them, heat climbing the back of her neck like ivy of flame.
what was this?
it was not simply attraction. paige knew attraction. attraction had always revealed itself plainly enough, certifying its hold before she'd had time to invent another explanation.
women had beautiful mouths, strong shoulders, clever hands. women had god between their legs, their thighs the stairway to heaven. women had bodies soft as clam meat, pleasure sticky and sluiced all over themselves, their post-coital blush so arresting that many a brand had made cosmetics with its name.
paige had survived twenty-two years perfectly capable of desiring someone without whatever this was. this was…
paige didn't know what you were supposed to do once someone let you close. she only knew, with total confidence, several increasingly elaborate ways to get there.
what happened after the arrival, she thought, watching azzi’s mouth continue to imbue knowledge into the recycled classroom air, is where i've never once had a plan.
professor fudd was still speaking, and paige had absolutely no idea what she'd been saying for the last several minutes. she listened now, or tried to. a slight roughness entered azzi’s voice after sustained speaking. she pressed her tongue briefly against the inside of her cheek whenever searching for a more precise adjective. her eyebrows drew together when a student answered not incorrectly, but when she believed she'd explained something badly herself.
none of these things belonged to paige. none of them had anything to do with waterhouse.
lamia had been given a body to be loved honestly, and the honesty was exactly what had killed it. paige turned that over, disturbed, aware of some private echo in it she didn't yet want to name.
(two-phone shoebox at the back of her closet, an ill-fitting surname she was allowing azzi to believe, b to k, k to b.)
there existed a region of herself she had never previously encountered. and she had intended to leave it unexplored by all, including possibly azzi; a country that had apparently been there all along. what would it be to get close enough to see all of it at once and decide, the way the soldier eventually had to decide, if you were loving something that wasn't fully real?
paige thought, i would rather vanish than be looked at like that.
she thought, a half-second later, with the same unstartled stagnancy she’d brought to every stubborn decision of her whole stubborn life: and i would still get back on that horse tomorrow. i would still get back on every single day there was a horse to get on.
mar was the horse, paige was the rider.
azzi’s gaze swept across the room, checking inventory, cataloguing the glazed inattention that meant she’d lost them. and it caught, for one unremarkable second, on paige, who was not glazed at all, who was watching her with an attention so total it should have registered as alarming and instead registered, in the microscopic millisecond before azzi’s gaze moved past, as something closer to being seen back.
neither of them said anything about it.
there was, that day, nothing yet to say.
on what must’ve been their fifth walk, azzi wore the coat.
she had told herself she would return it—had rehearsed, on three separate mornings, the sentence she’d use to hand it back, something dry and final about propriety and appropriate gifts between a professor and a student. instead, she found herself buttoning it every tuesday without much aplom, the mink at the collar gone soft and familiar against her jaw, warm in a way that made the returning of it feel, each week, a little more like amputation.
it had ceased, somewhere along the line, to feel like an object that belonged to another. it had acquired her shape: the sleeves now bent where her elbows bent, one pocket beginning to collect the lustreless sediment of her days, a receipt from the campus café, a fountain pen cartridge, a peppermint gone soft in its wrapper.
azzi found the realization faintly horrifying. she buttoned it again the day after.
they walked the lake road. the trees had surrendered almost everything by now. bare branches webbed against a white sky, reflected in the water below with enough fidelity that the lake seemed to possess its own winter, another season turned upside down beneath the first. their footsteps disappeared into damp gravel almost as soon as they were made.
their strolls had become one of those habits one stopped noticing until they tried to remember when it had accrued. when tutoring ceased, paige had blustered about having a few questions after class. azzi had seen right through, given that paige now had one of the strongest averages of her pupils.
then, the loss of excuse, a push for walks to the gate. then, somehow, the lake road; a promenade about the corner, paige coldly furious if azzi was occupied by a student who, for once, properly needed her. they did nothing but converse, each time laying down another imperceptible layer until whatever slept beneath bore no resemblance to when it had first settled.
paige fell into step beside her the way she always did now, matching pace, hands in her pockets, hair pulled loose at the back of her neck in that half-finished bun that always looked one strand away from falling but somehow never did. halfway down, without warning, she reached over and tucked a strand of azzi’s hair back from where the wind had pulled it loose across her cheek.
it wasn't a large gesture. it shouldn't have registered as anything at all, the small correction a friend might make to another without either party remarking on it, except that paige’s hand didn't withdraw the way a friend's hand would have. her fingers trailed, slow, thoughtful, from azzi’s temple down along the clean angle of her jaw until they came to rest, with a startling, sudden firmness, over her lipsticked mouth.
azzi went stockstill. every instinct she had arrived simultaneously, contradicting the other to the last. she found herself absurdly aware of the smallest details: every inch of cold gathering inside her gloves, the weight of her coat across over her shoulders, the steady pull of gravity through her heels into the frozen path beneath them. her breathing was suddenly louder than the water beside the road, quickened by the warmth of another person's hand against her face; a touch she had gone long without.
azzi had spent years teaching herself that the body was merely another instrument of thought, something to be directed with enough discipline. now it felt unexpectedly autonomous. she needed to break this, needed to leave this here.
there was no step back.
“tell me what to do with this,” paige said, low, and there was something desperate in her voice azzi hadn't heard from her before. she was devoid of the classroom bravado, and her easy teasing regularly deployed on these walks, a note rawer underneath both of those, stripped strangely bare of performance.
“that's the whole point of you,” paige continued, urgent, her gaze never wavering. “you're supposed to know what to do with things i don't.”
there were moments—and they came less frequently now than they once had—when paige appeared every one of her twenty-two years, sharp certainty concealing youth rather than replacing it. then there were moments like this, when she seemed impossible to age at all, as though intellect and longing had conspired to produce someone who had skipped several mandatory stages of becoming.
azzi didn't understand, not really, not in a countenance she could have explained if asked. but she understood enough to know the question wasn't really about anything either of them could speak to, so exposed to the public in the middle of this road. she reached up and closed her hand around paige’s wrist, meaning to pull it away, meaning to end this the way a reasonable, careful person would end it.
paige’s pulse beat there, so damnably young, so thrilled to be alive. and paige held on.
it was a rather nonviolent moment, which was somehow the worst part. she held fast with total refusal, and it made azzi’s hand feel suddenly very small around her wrist, an insistence that had nothing to prove and everything to keep.
then, just as abruptly as paige had taken it, she let go.
the world rushed back in. azzi stood there for a moment with her own pulse loud in her ears, ghost-print of paige’s fingers still warm against her mouth, and reached, without thinking, for something guileless to say, something capable of restoring proportion to the afternoon, something that would put them both back on solid ground. what came out instead was nothing at all.
it was paige who broke the silence. brave, reckless, paige; always striding through. her gaze drifted downward. she noticed, with a small private flicker of something azzi was unable to decipher, the faint stain at the corner of azzi’s own thumb, a trace of red gone slightly dark, smear left over from the raspberries she’d eaten too quickly at lunch and hadn’t properly disposed of.
azzi looked at it too, as though seeing her own hand for the first time.
paige took her hand before azzi could think to pull it back a second time, lifted it, and for one impossible second azzi believed she meant only to point it out. but then, without any of the hesitation that should have accompanied an act like this, paige brought azzi’s thumb into her mouth, behind her lips; a vanishing act.
warmth, barely more than that. the rasp of a tongue against skin so brief it might have been imagined had it not been for the astonishing precision with which paige watched her while doing it, pale irises fixed not on azzi’s hand but on her face, as though the gesture itself mattered less than whatever crossed her expression in response. she licked every remnant of red left behind, her eyes lowering half-shut, savoring the taste, only leaving azzi’s gaze to take in the part of her lips while she did it.
paige let azzi’s thumb free, then said against her knuckle, “you must know—”
an abrupt halt. then she was gone.
turned already four steps down the road, nearly running, putting distance between herself and what it was she'd just done before she could be made to account for it, shoulders set with almost exaggerated composure, as though she had entrusted the aftermath entirely to azzi.
you're supposed to know what to do with things i don't.
azzi stood on the empty lake road for a long time after, her thumb still faintly damp in the cold air, dazed into paralysis. she watched across the water as a bird lifted from the reeds. there was a line running under everything now—under the coat, under the lipstick, under every stroll that had started as an innocent—and she had no idea. she’d had no idea. this was—it had all been—
standing there in the cold with paige’s mouth still imprinted somewhere just beneath her skin, she searched backwards through memory, scavenging to find how long this had actually been running, or how far back it went.
how she had managed not to notice until this exact moment, when it had finally surfaced directly beneath her own hand?
paige dreamed of her, woke in the deep neck of night; iris blue room, the fantasy of the two of them entangled, azzi’s thigh on her thigh, her stomach slick with sweat as it expanded, begging breach.
she wanted to tell someone what she had done, but it was only getting worse now.
it was only getting worse.
azzi called caroline that night, still in her coat, sitting on the edge of her bed like a guest in her own life.
“so,” caroline said, once azzi had gotten most of it out (not all of it; she withheld the thumb; she couldn’t yet make herself speak about it), “let me see if i have this right. a twenty-two-year-old undergraduate bought you a coat that costs more than your car, wrote you a note that sounds vaguely like a threat, and today cupped your fucking chin in broad daylight—”
“it wasn’t broad daylight. it gets dark early now,” azzi corrected.
caroline barreled on, “and you're calling me to ask whether this is concerning."
“i'm calling you,” azzi said, “to ask what i do about it.”
“you stop it. that's what you do about it. hello?” caroline’s voice had hardened, taking on the role of someone who loved you enough to be unkind on your behalf. “my god, azzi. i love you. you know that. i love you with everything in me. i have loved you since we were twenty-three and you cried over a grade you got in our mutual class you didn't even need. but you have been letting this girl get away with things you would end a friendship over if i tried them. you let her walk all over you, deciding what you do and when you do it. you’ve kept the coat, az. you didn't send it back like you wanted to; you've been wearing it every single day—”
“it's warm,” azzi said weakly. “i have low iron.”
“so, take a pill, azzi. this is nothing but a leash with better tailoring.”
azzi said nothing.
“i'm not trying to be cruel,” caroline said, tender now, hearing the silence for what it was. “i just think you've been calling this mentoring for months, and i don't think it's been that for a while. and i think some part of you has known that and kept doing it anyway because it feels like being wanted, actually wanted, in a way that doesn't usually happen to women our age from most people, let alone someone that… intense. but intensity is not always the safest, and this is dangerous. you know that. tell yourself that. you love your job, you’ve been enduring, and this could—”
“i know,” azzi interrupted, her voice even.
“do you?”
azzi looked down at her hands, still faintly absurdly aware of where her thumb had been.
“i'm going to stop it,” she said, and meant it, in that moment.
she meant it. she did.
she meant it for four days, gave it a good go.
she stopped answering when paige knocked—no, she reminded herself, paige never knocked. she locked her door, stayed seated when the handle turned, said i'm not able to meet today through the wood like a coward, which was, she supposed, exactly what she'd become.
she rescheduled their tuesday walk twice, citing grading, citing a headache, citing anything that wasn’t the truth: which was that she no longer trusted her own hands around this girl and had decided the only responsible thing left to do was to stop giving them the opportunity.
paige did not email. paige did not try the handle again.
paige, as far as azzi could tell, went quietly, furiously silent, which frightened her considerably more than any of the usual noise would’ve.
it was close to eight on the fourth night when paige found her.
azzi was still in the office, papers she didn't need to be grading for another two weeks spread across the desk, an excuse to be anywhere but home, when the door opened without a knock—of course, without a knock—and paige stood in the frame in her coat, cheeks wind-scraped red, breathing like she'd run the last of it. she must’ve seen the lamplight in the hall.
“what, do you fucking live here?”
azzi didn't answer; couldn't, immediately. she found her throat had closed around every sentence she’d conjured for exactly this eventuality, all of them useless now, dry paper in her mouth. she looked up at paige and felt her eyes go wide and stinging, black holes the two of them, mouth trembling around nothing, four days of silence chipping at her.
paige’s face changed note the instant she saw it. the anger went out of her all at once, and she crossed the room and dropped, actually dropped, knees to the floor beside azzi’s chair, and took azzi’s hands in both of hers like a bird small and injured she'd found by the road.
“please.” her voice had lost every trace of the fury it had walked in with. “did i hurt you? tell me. tell me about it, tell me anything, please, i can't—” she stopped, began again, negotiating. “i've spent four days trying to figure out what i did, and i keep landing on all of it, and none of it, and i need you to just tell me. please.”
azzi looked down at her, and saw the wound in her; unguarded want of her face turned up in the jonquil light, and saw, a feeling older and sadder than it was supposed to be—the look of a girl who had spent her entire life under the logic that being loved and being managed were the same event, and anyone who mattered enough to matter would eventually decide to leave or to lie. the only defense you were handed against either was to make yourself impossible to walk away from before anyone got the chance.
azzi didn't know yet where exactly that had come from, but she could see the shape of the injury even without its history; a scar that had cost even if paige hadn’t told her the story of the knife. azzi saw the wound in her, and she leaned forward, an inch, maybe less, and put her finger in it.
paige understood instantly.
a low moan left her, a sound sleeping between relief and pain, and then her mouth was on azzi’s, careful at first and then not careful at all, one hand coming up to cradle the back of azzi’s neck like she’d been predicting this for months and was in disbelief of the vision come true; terrified at the risk of getting it wrong.
azzi kissed her back, following her lips when paige pulled back to groan, “fuck, yes".
paige kissed her again, hand on the back of her neck, free hand now softly against her throat, guiding her to the side, slipping her tongue into her mouth until azzi was dizzy. azzi’s hips jerked in place, and paige put a hand to them, thumbing at the bone, silently instructing her to slow, to wait.
it didn't last long.
azzi pulled back first this time, breath unsteady, and rested her forehead against paige’s, temples touching, close enough that neither of them could fully see the other's face anymore - only feel the warmth of it.
“you will,” azzi answered, quiet, almost wondering, breath ragged. “you will hurt me.”
part iii. ⊱ frederic leighton, ‘the painter’s honeymoon’, c. 1864.
sometimes paige had a bad feeling inside her, like biting into your cheek. and then again, on purpose, to see if it still would hurt the time after.
she knew it was an innate part of her, could hear it like a snake’s moan, and it crawled over her tonight in the midst of her first bath in three years, water gone lukewarm around her, badly-dyed wheat of her hair turned something closer to strawberry jam where the bleach had fought the old color and lost. a bucket was overturned at the tub's edge from where she'd tipped it, rinsing herself too quickly, too roughly, skin raw and red. punishment chosen whenever the bad feeling came.
paige didn't get up to fix it.
she liked looking at the mess a little.
she sat with her knees drawn up, chin resting on them, and let herself go back, the way the bath always seemed to invite her to go back, water being the one place her body had never quite had to follow the rules. she lay back fully after a moment, flaxen hair like sea moss against her spine, pale neck glinting as she rolled it to the side; bare sign of submission.
outside the bathroom, mar and niki’s date night playlist was droning on and on. a heavily reverbed voice of the forties crooned to her, nearly cajoling her into allowing entrance to the wave of sleep she’d felt lapping at her chest since lunch. she brought a hand up to her collarbones, pushing down, the bones so prominent it felt as though—with a little more applied pressure—she could’ve fissured the skin. dug her fingers in, and pulled it out; white necklace.
once paige had had a best friend she liked so much that it made her mean, her mouth chalky with the rage. the rage was exceptional when the girl rolled her skirt up at the waist the way the rest of the others did, showing off for boys who didn't deserve the effort. she was supposed to be better than that, different than the rest.
so, paige would yank it back down by the hem, a hard yank, sending the girl reeling. she'd pull it down, and the girl’d pull it back, a game of tug-o-war: up, down, up, down, smack! paige would be struck away, her friend finally having shoved her off, furious. then, it would be rolled up again. and so it went.
and every time, paige would just stand there, strangely satisfied, as though she'd won something even though she'd clearly lost. she didn't understand it then, what it meant to want a girl so badly you wanted to snuff her right out. she'd thought it was just the wanting-to-win kind of feeling, the kind you got over a board game or a race down the hall, some speckless, uncomplicated hunger for a thing to go her way.
she was thirteen. she didn’t have the vocabulary yet for the specific, awful tenderness of wanting another’s attention so completely that the wanting curdled at its furthest edge. curdled into something that looked, if you squinted, a lot like wanting to hurt them a little. not kill them, of course, just…dent them, leave a thumbprint—criminal trace—in a hiding place that only they’d notice later.
in the shower, maybe, throat choked in horror as they wondered. paige, in on the secret.
she knew the words now. she just knew better than to say them out loud, in the open, even if she was the only animal in the field. despite what her mother thought, paige did have a base level of self-preservation, and she knew speaking it aloud would make it sound worse than it was, and they’d send her somewhere.
she happened to think it really wasn’t all that bad, actually. it was just attention. everybody wanted attention. she just wanted it a bit more than other people, and with a little more follow-through.
and now that her mouth had covered azzi’s, now that her hand had felt azzi’s stomach jump like a rabbit startled awake, some old ache of hers finally getting out from wherever she kept it locked, “m-word” rising up-up-up—and paige hadn't wanted to hurt her, not really. that part's important; she'd tell you if you asked, though you'd be forgiven for not entirely believing her. no, paige didn’t want to quell her at all.
that was never it, had never once been it.
she had just wanted to bring azzi to her knees. just wanted to show her the effort she’d made, had wanted her to see the work. nobody had handed paige a shovel for any of this. she’d dug the whole thing herself, on her hands and knees, and she wanted azzi to see the hole before she fell into it face-first, wanted her to know exactly whose hands had made it.
you didn't get to keep something by wanting it once, hard. you kept it by coming back and back and back until the desire had worn a groove into the bone that only you, as the socket, would fit. nobody else’s hands would ever quite fit it again.
the vision had been strong since early september, but azzi just hadn’t seen it. paige liked that part best, if she was honest. the blind spot, the places where azzi couldn’t see it, dim-sighted and scrabbling. because that’s where paige fit.
paige like a revelator. paige with her mouth on the thin, breakable skin of azzi’s inner thigh, tactile learner, feeling her way through. paige, unbearable; paige with her mouth at the back of azzi’s neck, soft and unprotected, keeping it safe under the delve of her teeth, scruffing her.
her grandfather trapped a fox once, out past the tree line at the main estate, and it had screamed. and that scream—high and human, more furious than hurt, outrage borne of the misguided belief that it couldn’t have ever been caught. paige thought about that sound sometimes, at inconvenient moments, and wondered, with the same colorless curiosity she brought to most of her worst thoughts, whether azzi would sound anything like it. if azzi would sound anything like that when she was cumming, hips held down by the staying power of paige’s hand, bunny-eye-pink squeeze.
someday, she’d find out, once paige finally got her cornered all the way though.
paige didn't chase the thought any further than that. and it wasn’t because it scared her, but more because she liked having somewhere left to go. most things lost the magic when overly interrogated.
the water had gone properly cold now. she stayed soaked in it anyway, same thing: knees drawn up, chin resting on them, watching the strands of her hair, strawberry-blonde, fan out around her like something spilled; sat with the bad feeling.
sat with the bad feeling and letting it keep her company, the way she always had, the way she suspected she always would.
she thought that wanting someone this much was supposed to frighten her. she thought, then—without much alarm—that if this was supposed to be the part where she felt the terror and guilt, nobody had alerted her body yet. it was strange that it mostly just felt like coming home to a house she’d built herself, brick by brick, with her own two hands.
and nobody, not one single person in her whole life—if they even knew of it—had ever once thought to take the keys away from her.
she supposed they knew better. she figured that was probably part of the problem, and that problem was really part of a set. but once, before all those rocks came tumbling down on him, her father had told her: when you really love someone, when you feel that click? that’s them loving you back. and when they love you back, nothing else tends to really matter.
and, so, maybe she did have a problem, a set or two, but birthright, really. she figured she’d deal with it some other day.
there was a click of the grammophone out in the hall - niki had a real one, how droll - and a fresh choir of voices bloomed, wedging underneath the door, their warble rattling at the window panes. paige closed her eyes, one hand coming up to her left to grip the tub’s slick rim.
and when they love you back, nothing else tends to really matter.
everything else was just window dressing.
she lazed down straight to the bottom, the soap and cold swallowing her with an eager mouth.
she’d never been any good at floating. her mother had long been terrorized by the fear that she’d drown.
( when they reach the point at which paige can reveal the feeling, can peel back her heart to the dark root underneath, sleeping, silver like a wolf’s eye in the night, paige says: “i don’t know why i’m like this.”
they watch her mother win another primary, television screen emanating a lunar glow. azzi thinks very hard, i think i know why.
but azzi tells her, “i don’t worry about it, honey. i have little interest in making you better.”
‘h’ for honey. ‘b’ for baby. ‘b’ for bueckers, blessing. ‘b’ for best.
paige sinks into the couch, fingers like claws, thinks real hard: can i please keep it? can we stay like this forever?
looks at azzi, thinks: please, stay with me forever. )
they did not speak of the kiss for a week, both of them paralyzed by it, which was, azzi would think later, a relief—to know that this meant as much to you as it did to the other.
her life felt instantly changed, and she wished she could discuss this with someone, but caroline would kill her and her mother would need to be told outside a hospital, and the kiss with paige had already rearranged the furniture of her life. she could only begin her walk around the new shape of the room. it was paige who finally said it plainly, cornering azzi after class on the monday of the second week, her voice sharpened into a blade of bluntness - reserved for whatever actually mattered to her; everything else in her life apparently negotiable except this.
“we can't keep meeting in your office.”
“i'm aware,” azzi said, and hated how much relief moved through her at being told the obvious rather than having to say it herself.
“someone's going to notice. someone probably already has.” paige said it without drama, a simple accounting of risk, and azzi understood, not for the first time, that whatever else paige was—reckless, strange, entirely too fluent in getting what she wanted—she was not stupid about the mechanics of being watched. (she’d spent her whole life being watched. she knew exactly how it worked, better than azzi ever would.) “you have office hours in a public corridor. i walk in whenever i want. that was fine when it was—before. it isn't fine now.”
azzi didn't ask what the “before” was covering.
“what do you suggest, then, paige? you’ve gotten us into this.”
paige rolled her eyes. “you kissed back.”
azzi huffed, and paige smiled, the sides of her eyes crinkling.
“my apartment is my brother's. there's no version of that where i explain you away.”
paige said this simply, already moving past it, already three steps ahead the way she always was.
“yours is just, well, yours. no dean’s aide checking a guest book, no downstairs neighbor who reports back to a committee who’d care enough to fire you. if we’re going to keep—if you’d like to continue—” a small pause, the only hesitation she allowed herself in the entire conversation. azzi met her gaze from underneath her lashes, nodding with a small smile— “whatever we're doing—it has to happen somewhere no one's looking for it.”
it was, azzi reflected, a logical argument and surprisingly thorough in its consideration. and, it was also, unmistakably, the most honest thing paige had said to her yet: not i want to see you, not i can't stop thinking about you, nothing so soft as either of those. only the practical fact of being two people who could not be seen together needing somewhere they would not be seen.
azzi told herself, walking home that evening with her pulse foxtroting in her throat, that agreeing to this was simple prudence. she told herself a great many things that week that would not survive a close examination.
the first time paige came to the apartment, she did not stay long, and behaved for once, as the girl she was.
she came across as having wandered in by accident, rather than by her own design. azzi let her in through the small, crimson door, the paint chipped under the thick body of the deadbolt. it was small, and azzi didn’t know if paige had expected that, if she knew what pennies the university paid.
she gazed upon her, perched on the battered end of her coral pink chaise sectional—facebook marketplace, god bless you—teal dressing gown pooled around her thighs. she watched as paige studied the bookshelves with her hands clasped behind her back like a visitor at a museum forbidden from touching the exhibits. when paige asked about the two framed photographs on the mantel—azzi’s brothers forced together by her mother’s glare with the backdrop of their grandparents’ farm behind them, another of an aunt long dead—azzi found herself surprised by the interest, suddenly called back to a childhood summer she barely remembered.
paige left before nine, kissing azzi once at the door on the very end of her nose, careful and brief though no less affectionate, and said not a word about coming back. but then she was back the following tuesday, sweeping azzi out by the arm into the blistering cold, citing a walk for her “old age,” which made azzi push her half-heartedly near traffic before dragging her desperately back.
and she came the one after that.
the one after that one too.
and then it was no longer a question of tuesdays at all. paige was simply there, the way she had always been there at office hours, except now there was no pretense of tutoring left to disguise it, no essay excuse. nothing between them but the plain fact of wanting to be in the same room.
slowly paige began to populate. she brought a book she was reading for another class and left it on azzi’s coffee table, did not take it home again. i’ll be back for it soon. keep it for me, love? she’d hummed over the phone. azzi felt her body relax into her mattress.
next, paige left a coat on the hook by the door, a second coat beside azzi’s, forest green wool with a plaid drenched inside, as though she had privately decided the apartment required its own small wardrobe now, separate from the rest of her life. azzi catalogued these accumulations the way she’d note the tide coming in, not any single wave, but by way of the fact that the water had, at some point she’d failed to mark, reached much further up the shore than it used to.
paige never asked permission for any of it, and azzi never quite got around to minding.
by the time the first hard blizzard came, sealing the lake road under a skin of ice neither of them walked on any longer, paige had a drawer. azzi could not have said, if asked, on what day exactly that had happened, only that one evening she’d gone looking for a spare charger and found, instead, a single drawer in her own dresser that had become entirely and unmistakably paige’s.
a wooden hollow suddenly flooded with the make of her: black silk boyshorts trailing the sides, two replacement heads for her electric toothbrush, sleeping tees a size too large and faded like the dead.
a new thing, learned: paige smoked. azzi hated it.
she hated it with the thwarted vehemence of someone who had once, before her university days, spent an entire year lecturing high schoolers about the body as a temple. all that good it had done her. she found herself watching paige stand on her studio balcony, a juliet with enough room for two, long frame shivering in the cold, cable-knit sweater shrugged off the shoulder as she drew smoke into her lungs with obvious pleasure.
“you're going to ruin your health. this will kill you,” azzi berated her, the first week, standing in the living room with her arms crossed like that alone might constitute an argument.
“my health is fine.”
“yes, now. you're only twenty-two.”
“i'm aware of my own age, thank you.” paige didn't turn around. the smoke went up in a thin grey ribbon, dissolving into the streetlights' shallow reach before it ever really cleared the railing. “you don't have to watch, if it’s torturing you or whatever.”
“i live here.” a beat, the admission catching slightly even now, weeks in, still strange in her own mouth. “you're on my balcony.”
“then come stand on it with me instead of scolding me from the door like my mother,” paige said it lightly, but something under it wasn't light at all, some old scar azzi had learned by now not to press directly. “she used to do the smoking-and-scolding thing. different substance, same energy. all annoying.”
azzi was hurt by that, she recognized later, her face shifting as she turned away and receded into her bedroom, path lit by two floriform tiffany lamps, the tops iridescent green and structured into tulip blooms around the bulb. paige had not come to find her, though azzi had awoken the next morning to a bouquet of blue: delphiniums, tweedia, lisianthus and ranunculus in rows of white, silver dollar eucalyptus and a peek of white rose. beside it lay a note in uneven scrawl: i’m sorry. call me; the day is yours. i’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go.
azzi had called, and upon pickup immediately said, “god, it’s like you think we’re in a film.”
“you like it,” paige countered with a low drawl. “you like that i dote on you. don’t worry, mommy, i like it too.”
azzi had gone bright pink and silent, and the phone clicked off.
it became, over the following weeks, one of their several small rituals: paige on the balcony rail, hip against the cold iron, a blanket settled over her shoulders courtesy of azzi’s consideration. azzi in the doorway or, more often now, beside paige, not smoking herself, but present and close, watching the cherry burn down in the dark while paige exhaled up and away from her out of some instinctive, unrequested courtesy.
azzi, of course, never stopped hating it. she only, slowly, stopped fighting it, sometimes leaning into the blow of the smoke to feel the warmth as the snow spun in its silent spiral.
the ashtray appeared on a thursday.
paige noticed it before azzi ever addressed it, noticed it the way she took notice of everything about azzi, the same old compulsion simply relocated from an office to a home. it sat on the little table beside the balcony chair that paige either sat in or slid to the side so that she could curl in azzi’s lap, nicotine dragging through her blood as azzi hummed an aimless melody. it was gold and sleek, cast in the shape of a shell, its ridges catching the moonlight in a wide spread.
“what's this?”
“an ashtray,” azzi said, from just inside, arms crossed in rote, though her posture had lost much of its old severity. “you've been using a coffee mug, paige. it's disgusting.”
paige turned it over once in her hand before setting it back exactly where it had been. “you bought me an ashtray.”
“i—well, yes. i thought—well. i bought a shell-shaped receptacle for a habit i still think is going to kill you,” azzi blustered, “because the coffee mug was worse, and because i would rather you do the thing i hate somewhat properly.”
it wasn't a declaration, or azzi clearly hadn't intended it as one. had said it, if anything, in the same dry, faintly martyred register she used for most things concerning paige’s more self-destructive habits. but paige stood there with her cigarette burning down forgotten between her fingers and felt something in her chest give out, ribs traveling back like a bramble forest with its spell broken. heart suddenly unguarded, red and wet.
because azzi hated it. she had said so, repeatedly, at length, with real concern. but she had gone and bought paige something beautiful to do it in anyway; had decided, somewhere in the midst of her own disapproval, that if she couldn't stop paige from doing the thing that frightened her, she would at least make sure the doing of it was tended to - made lovely, made safe in every way that was actually within her power.
paige said nothing more. she only reached out, once azzi had stepped back into the studio, and tapped her ash carefully into the shell for the first time. she found that she wanted, more than she'd wanted almost anything, to never once let this object break.
and maybe it was the ashtray that had done it, the sudden adjustment to a habit paige had simply no intention of giving up. whatever it was sent paige waking early one morning, pacing anxiously in the kitchen as she made coffee barefoot, casting fleeting glances to azzi’s pea-green coffee pot as it labored under her instruction.
she hadn't slept. she’d lain there instead, long after azzi’s breathing had gone slow and even beside her, watching the snow-light move across the ceiling and rehearsing the explanation she kept discarding for sounding too practiced, much too close to a line a communications team would have fed her. she’d almost said it there, in the dark, mouth an inch from azzi’s shoulder, but she hadn't. paige wasn't sure yet if that had been cowardice or mercy.
so she was still awake when the grey started coming up outside, and still awake when azzi stirred and found the coffee already going—paige barefoot and pale in the kitchen light with an expression azzi clearly didn’t recognize on her; something rawer and much younger looking out from underneath her skin instead. the tile under paige’s feet was like a glacial kiss, but she endured.
azzi made her coffee like this, barefoot, and she always took it black. she thought it was sweet, the way azzi always wanted to be so grounded. paige required milk, needed a little bit of tenderizing.
“hey, honey.”
paige closed her eyes, let the endearment spill down her back, stomach going sticky with delight. azzi paused at the sight, a hand coming to rest on the doorway of the kitchen. she came in closer, running a hand down paige’s hip. stabilizing her, paige realized. she hadn’t even realized she’d been swaying.
“you're up early,” azzi continued, cautious.
“mmm, couldn’t sleep.”
azzi came flush against her without needing to be formally asked, the way they always went to one another now, and took paige’s hands before the blonde had even finished deciding whether she wanted them taken. folded them up in her own, warm from the mug she’d only just abandoned. she waited, practiced across an entire semester at coaxing this girl out of hiding one small admission at a time.
“nightmare?”
paige shook her head, flexing her feet against the tile. she’d woken up once or twice in a flame of terror, skin beaded with sweat, her body shivering with the aftershock of a dreamworld she’d only just escaped. when azzi had asked upon the fourth time, paige had rolled onto her side, blue eyes dull disks of white in the evening light, and said—so matter-of-factly: my father was a geologist. he died.
azzi’s face had crumpled, dark eyes welling with tears. she’d reached out, and paige had followed the motion, slightly unnerved by the discovery of her cheeks being wet.
how?
paige had turned her head deep into the pillow, leaving only a slight crack so that her lips could move comfortably, answer slipping easily from rose pink: avalanche.
“you said once that you don't know who i am,” paige said, now, voice hoarse. “not really.”
“i remember.” that warm hand running all over her back. “and i don’t know, honey. i haven’t looked anymore into it.”
"i think that's on purpose. i think i've made sure of it.” her hands tightened in azzi’s, involuntarily. “i keep thinking about that painting. the one with the snake woman and the soldier—”
“lamia.” azzi provided, and paige smiled faintly at the interruption.
“yeah. you know how the second he actually sees her, she can’t survive being looked at anymore?” paige swallowed as azzi nodded slowly. “i've been so afraid of that happening to me that i never let you look properly at all. and i don't—i don't want to do that to us. i don't want to be a person you loved by accident, because you never had all the facts. i don’t—we’re about to be in the thick of it, and i’m so afraid that i’m—”
azzi’s thumb moved once, slow, over the back of paige’s hand. she didn't say anything. instead she slowly leaned in, never stopping until their foreheads pressed, clasping paige’s hand in one while the other moved to her neck.
“paige, honey. it’s alright. you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“i want to,” paige murmured, leaning in to drop a kiss on azzi’s cheekbone. “i want you.”
deep breath.
“i used my brother-in-law-to-be’s last name when enrolling,” she sighed. “it's not a lie, not really. it’s just…not the whole truth either. i am a blessing. i’m also a bueckers. i kept my father’s name; i wanted to. but i’m also—" she forced herself to say it plainly, no flourish. “i'm a fuller, too. my mother is a fuller. one of the famous ones.”
it took azzi a second. paige watched her sort through it, watched the pieces arrive one at a time and then, immediately assemble themselves into something enormous. there was only one largely famous fuller family at the forefront of american society.
“wait.” azzi’s voice had tumbled somewhere low, had gone very quiet. “paige? are you telling me—do you mean as in—the president. the woman currently in the white house.”
“yes.”
“the woman trying to stay in the white house.”
“yes.”
“you’re telling me that the president of the united states of america is your mother.”
“yes.”
neither of them moved. outside, the snow kept falling, indifferent, the same grey morning it had been ten minutes ago before any of this had been said aloud, and paige realized she was still waiting—braced—for azzi’s fingers to loosen around her own.
they didn't. in fact, they tightened so severely that paige thought her circulation was at risk of being permanently cut off.
“i think i’m going to faint.”
“what?!”
azzi promptly collapsed, bringing paige down with her. the combined drop of their weight was so deafening against the floor that it sent her neighbor claudia running up from the level below.
A/n: Hi guys! I know this chapter is gonna be hard to get through and very upsetting but after this the worst is over!! Also this is unedited so ignore any mistakes! There’s one more chapter left in book one before book two starts! I love you all, thank you for the constant love and support! Lmk your thoughts! 🩷 Also…. If you wanna talk about book two there are some hints I might be willing to give away
Word count: 11k
Nika was pacing the floor of the communal area, her mind entirely consumed with getting back to Paige. She cornered the counselor who helped her weeks before in a quiet corner of the hallway.
"Take me back to Paige's room," Nika demanded under her breath, blocking his path. "Now."
The counselor went completely pale, looking around frantically to see if anyone was watching them. "I can't, Nika. She’s not in the isolation wing anymore. She got moved to a completely different part of the facility this morning. I'm not helping you anymore. It's too dangerous."
Nika didn't even blink. A cold, calculating smirk crossed her face as she leaned in closer. "That's fine. If you won't take me, I'll just go tell them about how you smuggled me into the isolation wing to see her. Let's see how fast you get fired and blacklisted from working anywhere ever again."
The counselor's jaw dropped, fear instantly overriding his hesitation. "You wouldn't."
"Try me," Nika whispered, her eyes dead serious.
Terrified of losing his job, the counselor swallowed hard and nodded. "Fine. Follow me. But you have two minutes."
He led Nika down a flight of concrete stairs into a lower unit, using his keycard to bypass the security on the doors. He pointed toward a small, dim room at the end of the hall. "That's her new room. Go. Quickly."
Nika hurried down the corridor and pushed the door open. The room was even smaller than the isolation cell, smelling faintly of damp concrete and chemical cleaner. Paige was laying flat on the thin mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling, looking completely dazed and hollowed out.
"Paige," Nika breathed, rushing to the side of the bed. She sat on the edge and immediately reached out, gently rubbing Paige’s pale face, trying to ground her. "Paige, are you okay? What did they do to you?" Nika leaned down, pressing a soft, deeply comforting kiss to Paige's forehead.
The touch seemed to bring Paige back to reality. Her eyes focused on Nika, and a fresh wave of helpless tears instantly spilled over her lashes.
"My parents came today," Paige choked out, her voice raspy and broken as she began to sob. "They met with my counselor... they read my letters. They told the counselor that Azzi and I were... that… they said we kissed and that I left marks on her."
Paige shook her head, a violent shudder wracking her shoulders as she gripped Nika’s sleeve. "I freaked out because they kept calling Azzi disgusting and saying I was sick. I yelled at them. I told them I hated them. So they dragged me down here. The counselor said this is for harder therapy...I'm so tired, Nika. I can't do this."
Seeing her friend completely break down made something shift in Nika's eyes. Instead of panicking, a sharp, fierce grin spread across Nika's face. She squeezed Paige's shoulders tightly.
"Hey, listen to me. Look at me, Paige," Nika whispered urgently, her voice buzzing with sudden adrenaline. "This is actually a good thing. This is going to make it so much easier for us to escape."
Paige blinked through her tears, confused. "What? How?"
"Think about it. Up in the isolation wing, you were surrounded by security, totally locked down. Down here, yeah it’s a strict unit, but there isn’t staff staring through a window at you every second," Nika explained rapidly, her eyes darting to the door to make sure the counselor was still watching the hall. "But we have to be together to pull it off. So here's the plan, I'm going to go right back upstairs, find my counselor, and tell her that Jordyn and I did things. I'll make up whatever I have to so they think I need to be down here.”
Nika gave Paige a reassuring, determined smile, wiping a stray tear from Paige's cheek. "They're going to send me straight down to this unit with you. And once we're both down here, Paige... we're getting the hell out of this place."
Paige let out a fragile, shuddering breath, her fingers tightening weakly around Nika’s sleeve.
"I feel so weak," Paige whispered, her voice cracking. "I’ve thrown up three times today. They brought a tray earlier, but I can't look at food. I can't eat. I’m just so tired. My whole body aches."
Nika’s expression softened into worry. She immediately shifted closer on the narrow mattress, wrapping an arm around Paige's shaking shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. She used her free hand to gently brush a stray lock of blonde hair away from Paige’s forehead.
"I know, P. I know you're exhausted," Nika murmured softly. "They are trying to break you, but you can’t let them do it to your body. You have to try and eat some dinner tonight. Even if it’s just a couple of bites, okay? You have to keep something down."
Paige buried her face into Nika's shoulder, her breath shallow and uneven. "I don't know if I have any strength left to fight them."
"Yes, you do," Nika insisted, her voice dropping into a firm, unyielding whisper right next to Paige's ear. "Think about Azzi. She needs you to be strong. She is out there right now waiting for you, loving you, and counting on you to make it back to her."
Paige let out a tiny, watery sob at the mention of Azzi, nodding weakly.
"Just hold on for a little bit longer," Nika promised, squeezing her tightly one last time before she had to get up. She looked down at Paige with absolute determination. "I’m going upstairs right now to cause a scene. I'll tell them whatever they need to hear about me and Jordyn, and I will be down here with you soon."
—
Later that evening, the door to the counselor's office clicked shut behind Nika. The room was bathed in the warm, artificial light of a desk lamp, a sharp contrast to the cold, stark concrete of the basement unit she had just visited.
Nika sat in the cushioned chair across from her counselor, letting her shoulders slump. She forced her eyes to look wide, watery, and completely overwhelmed, clasping her hands tightly in her lap to mimic a girl on the verge of a confession.
"Nika, you asked for an emergency session tonight," the counselor said, leaning forward with a gentle, encouraging smile. "What’s on your mind?"
Nika let out a shaky, rehearsed breath, looking down at her lap. "There’s... there’s something that’s been weighing on my heart lately. I can't keep carrying the lie anymore."
The counselor's eyes lit up slightly; this was the breakthrough they always wanted. She picked up her pen, leaning in. "You can tell me, Nika. This is a safe space for healing."
"When I first got here... during my intake, I lied about the extent of my sickness," Nika whispered, swallowing hard to force a tremor into her voice. "I told you it was just a crush, just a phase. But it wasn't. Back home, before I got sent here, I had a girlfriend."
The counselor leaned forward, jotting down a quick note. "And what was the nature of your relationship with her, Nika?"
"We were completely involved," Nika said, her voice dropping to a shameful, quiet murmur. "We couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was constant, and I hid it because I was so terrified of what you all would think of me. But I'm so tired of carrying the guilt. I'm so sick."
The counselor stared at her for a long, quiet moment, evaluating her. Then, she slowly placed her pen down and offered a sympathetic, nodding smile.
"I deeply appreciate your honesty, Nika. Admitting the truth, especially when it is painful and exposes the depth of your struggle, is always the very first step toward true correction," the counselor said. Her expression then shifted, turning grave and strictly professional. "However, because of the initial lie, and the sudden discovery of active, physical deviance, your current treatment plan is no longer sufficient."
Nika squeezed her hands tighter, doing her best to look terrified. "What do you mean?"
"Your behavior is more deeply rooted than we initially assessed," the counselor explained, pulling a fresh set of forms from her desk drawer. "Because of this, you need to be sent to a higher level of therapy. We are transferring you tonight."
A wave of triumphant relief washed over Nika's chest. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
"Please," Nika whimpered, putting her hands over her face to hide the sudden spark of victory in her eyes. "Please don't lock me away down there."
"It is for your own good, Nika. Pack your things," the counselor said firmly, picking up the phone to call security.
Behind her hands, Nika let out a silent, breathless laugh.
—
The harsh fluorescent lights of the basement cafeteria hummed with a low, oppressive vibration. Paige sat at one of tables, staring blankly at a small bowl of chicken broth and a piece of dry toast. True to her promise to Nika, she was trying to eat, but her stomach was still in knots.
Suddenly, a metal tray slid onto the table right next to hers.
Paige gasped, snapping her head around, and her eyes instantly lit up. "Nika!" she whispered, a sudden, bright burst of genuine relief washing over her face.
Nika offered a tired but victorious grin, sliding onto the bench beside her. "Told you I’d make it down here," she murmured, leaning in close so her voice wouldn't carry to the guards stationed by the exit doors.
"I can't believe you actually did it," Paige breathed, her eyes shining with tears of gratitude. For the first time in days, the pain in her chest loosened. "I was so scared I’d be down here alone."
"Never," Nika said firmly, though her smile faded slightly as she looked around the grim, windowless room. The atmosphere down here was completely different; quieter, heavier, and thick with tension. "But... I'm not going to lie, P. I'm really nervous. Do you have any idea what the therapy is actually going to be like down here?"
Paige's shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping back to her untouched toast. "I don't know. My counselor said something about aversion therapy, I think... I think they’re going to try to make us hate the girls we love. I don't know if my head can take much more of them screaming at me."
"We just have to keep our heads down until we find a way out," Nika said, trying to sound brave, though her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her spoon. She stirred her soup in silence for a moment, her eyes turning distant and troubled.
"Paige..." Nika began, her voice dropping to a vulnerable, quiet whisper. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," Paige said, shifting so she was facing her friend. "What is it?"
"I feel so guilty," Nika confessed, her chest heaving with a heavy sigh. She stared down at her tray, her knuckles turning white. "I feel like I betrayed Jordyn by flirting with that guy. She trusts me. She's out there waiting for me, and I crossed a line. When we get out of here and I have to tell her... she is going to be so angry with me."
Paige's heart ached for her. She reached over, placing her hand gently over Nika's, squeezing it with as much strength as she could muster.
"Nika," Paige said softly, her voice filled with absolute sincerity. "You did what you had to do. You are surviving."
Nika bit her lip, a tear spilling over her lashes. "But it still feels wrong."
"She loves you," Paige insisted gently, wiping the tear from Nika's cheek just like Nika had done for her. "When we get out of here, she isn't going to care about some stupid counselor you had to trick. She is just going to be so incredibly happy and relieved that you're safe, and that she has you back. You didn't do it to hurt her. You did it to get back to her."
Nika let out a shaky breath, letting Paige's words soothe the sharp edge of her guilt. She nodded slowly, squeezing Paige's hand back. "Thanks, P."
The double doors of the therapy room swung shut, locking with a dull, motorized hum. Paige and Nika sat side by side in plastic chairs, their shoulders practically glued together. A counselor they hadn't seen before; an older woman with her gray hair pulled back into a bun so tight it seemed to pull the skin of her temples taut, sat behind a podium at the front.
Paige’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She gripped the edges of her seat, her knuckles white. Next to her, she could feel the tension radiating off Nika in waves. They were both waiting for the hammer to fall, expecting aggressive interrogation or worse.
The counselor adjusted her glasses, looking down at them with a mixture of cold pity and stern authority. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing sharply off the concrete walls.
"We must strip away the lies you have built around your behavior," the counselor began, her voice dropping into a bizarre, intense solemnity. "We must look at the physical reality of your deviance. I think we can all agree here... that a woman’s body is a highly dangerous vessel of temptation."
She leaned over the podium, her eyes wide as she grew oddly, intensely descriptive.
"The devil knew what he was doing," she continued, her voice dropping to a breathless whisper. "The soft, perfectly sculpted curve of a female shoulder. The delicate slope of her waist. The way a woman's collarbone catches the light, or the warmth of her skin when she is near... it is a trap. They are simply too alluring, too beautiful to resist, and you must guard your eyes from finding them attractive!"
Paige froze. Her mind, which had been braced for the worst, completely stalled out.
She stared at the counselor, her jaw dropping slightly. Wait, Paige thought, her eyes widening as she processed the words. Did she just say 'too beautiful to resist'? Is she... describing how much she likes women? The irony of this counselor standing at a podium accidentally explaining; in vivid detail, how incredibly attractive she found the female body was too much.
A bubble of hysteria rose up in Paige's throat. She tried to swallow it down. She clenched her jaw, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper, desperately trying to keep a straight face.
But then a tiny, muffled pfft escaped her nose.
The counselor’s eyes snapped directly to Paige. "Is something amusing?"
That was the breaking point. Paige’s shoulders began to shake. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hand over her mouth, but the mental image of this woman secretly pinning over shoulders was too hilarious. A breathless, high-pitched giggle spilled through her fingers.
"Paige," the counselor warned, her voice dropping into a harsh, offended register. "This is highly inappropriate. Your soul is at stake, and you are—"
"I'm sorry," Paige wheezed, her eyes watering as a full, genuine laugh broke through. She was laughing so hard her chest heaved. "I'm sorry, it's just... you described it... so beautifully..."
Nika turned her head to look at Paige, her eyes wide with shock. But as she caught on to what Paige was laughing at, and realized exactly how deeply the counselor had just told on herself, the absurdity of the situation slipped past Nika's defenses.
Nika let out a sharp, sudden snort.
"Nika!" the counselor barked, slamming her hand flat on the podium, her face flushing a deep, embarrassed red. "Silence!"
But the dam had broken. Nika buried her face in her hands, her shoulders rolling as she joined in, her loud, echoing laughter bouncing off the sterile concrete walls.
The counselor’s face hardened, the deep red blush on her cheeks fading back into a stern, defensive scowl. She slammed her folder onto the podium, the loud thwack finally bringing Paige and Nika’s giggles to a halt.
"Since you find the mechanics of temptation so amusing, Paige, let us bring the focus back to you," the counselor said, her voice dropping into a sharp, challenging edge. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the wood. "Tell me. What do you think your main temptation is? What is the root of your sickness?"
Paige wiped a stray tear of laughter from her eye, her breathing still a little erratic. The fear that usually paralyzed her in these sessions was completely gone, replaced by a strange, lightheaded calmness. She looked at the counselor, then shrugged slightly, her voice remarkably soft and honest.
"I don't think it's a temptation," Paige said, her eyes turning warm as her mind drifted right back to her room at St. Mary's. "And I didn’t think I liked girls, I just... I think I met my girlfriend, and she was kind, and so beautiful, and she made me feel safe and cared for. I just couldn't stay away from her."
Nika glanced at Paige, a soft, supportive look passing over her face.
The counselor blinked, clearly expecting an argument rather than a confession. She adjusted her glasses, clearing her throat as she quickly tried to steer the conversation back into her script.
"Well," the counselor said. "I appreciate your honesty, Paige. Truly. Awareness is a tool. But what you fail to see is that women are inherently manipulative. They will use the exact things you just mentioned; softness, feigned kindness, physical beauty, to snare you. They use those traits to wrap you around their finger, to corrupt your mind and isolate you from your family and faith, until you are entirely dependent on their validation."
Normally, a speech like that would have made Paige’s blood boil. She would have screamed, defended Azzi, and fought until staff dragged her out.
But right now? Paige couldn't even find it in herself to get mad.
She just sat there, staring at the counselor with a tiny, amused smirk playing at the corner of her lips. It was impossible to take the lecture seriously.
The counselor was right in the middle of explaining how "unregulated feminine energy leads directly to emotional instability" when a hand slowly rose from the group.
Sitting a few chairs away from Paige and Nika was a quiet, deadpan girl named Riley, who had been in the basement unit for a few weeks. She was staring at the counselor with a look of analytical concentration.
The counselor stopped mid-sentence, looking relieved to have an active participant. "Yes, Riley? Do you have a breakthrough you'd like to share regarding the nature of manipulation?"
Riley didn't blink. She leaned forward, her voice perfectly serious, hollow, and innocent. "No. I was just wondering... were you once a patient here?"
The room went dead silent.
The counselor’s mouth literally fell open. Her face transformed from clinical superiority to absolute, wide-eyed horror in a matter of seconds. "I—I beg your pardon?!" she sputtered, her tight bun practically vibrating with offense. "I have a master's degree in psychology! I am a certified—"
Beside Nika, Paige let out a violent, strangled snort. She immediately slammed both hands over her face, but it was useless. She doubled over in her chair, her forehead close to her knees as she shook with pure, breathless laughter.
Nika wasn't any better. She tried to disguise her laugh as a cough, but it mutated into a loud, wheezing cackle that echoed off the concrete walls. She buried her face in Paige’s shoulder, her tears spilling over as both of them just collapsed into each other, dying of laughter.
"Silence! Both of you, silence right now!" the counselor shrieked, her voice cracking, she was a deep, furious shade of red. "This is a serious therapeutic environment! Riley, go back to your room! Paige and Nika, if you do not control your disordered outbursts this instant, I will have the staff—"
But Paige couldn't even hear the threats. Her stomach ached, her lungs burned, as she cried real tears of amusement.
—
The cafeteria felt significantly less oppressive by the time lunch rolled around. Paige and Nika slid into their spot at the table, they were both vibrating with a loose, giddy energy.
"I literally couldn't breathe," Nika whispered the second they sat down, tearing off a piece of her bread and hiding her grin behind her hand. "When Riley asked that, I swear I saw the counselor's soul leave her body for a second."
Paige let out a quiet, breathless giggle, her cheeks flushing with color for the first time in weeks. She leaned across the table, her eyes wide and sparkling. "No, but think about it, Nika. It actually makes so much sense. The way she was talking right before that? Nobody describes a woman like that unless they’ve spent a lot of time staring at one."
"Oh, absolutely," Nika laughed, leaning in closer so their shoulders touched. "She definitely had a girlfriend. It was probably back in college, she had a roommate named like…. Eleanor."
"Eleanor!" Paige snorted, putting her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound as a staff member walked past their table. "Yes! And they probably studied together for hours, and now she’s taking all her heartbreak out on us because Eleanor moved to Paris and married an artist."
"Exactly! She's sitting up there trying to convince us a woman's neck is dangerous, when really she’s just mad that Eleanor didn't write her back," Nika joked, nudging Paige’s arm.
Paige smiled, a genuine, warm feeling spreading through her chest. She was still trapped in the facility, her body was still exhausted, and her parents had betrayed her; but sitting here, laughing with Nika, she didn't feel broken anymore. The facility hadn't won.
"Well, whatever happened to Eleanor," Paige whispered, taking a bite of her lunch and looking at Nika with profound gratitude, "I’m just glad Riley called her out. I don't think I'm ever going to be scared of her lectures again."
The loose, lightheaded happiness from lunch vanished the moment the cafeteria doors opened and a staff member called Paige’s name. Nika gave her hand a tight, encouraging squeeze under the table, but Paige could feel the familiar knot of dread tightening in her stomach as she was led down a completely unfamiliar corridor.
The guard pushed open the door to a small, windowless room. There was no podium or conference table here. Instead, a sterile, vinyl chair sat in the center of the room, facing a large television monitor mounted on the wall. Next to the chair was a metal cart filled with strange electronic equipment, wires, and a small glass of water.
A new counselor; a man with cold, unblinking eyes and a detached, clinical demeanor, stood by the cart, adjusting a set of dials.
"Sit, Paige," he said flatly, not even looking up.
Paige swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs as she walked over and sat down. The vinyl was cold beneath her. Before she could ask what was happening, the counselor stepped forward. He picked up two fabric bands lined with metal sensors and wrapped them tightly around Paige's wrists, securing the velcro with a loud, aggressive rip. The wires from the bands trailed back to the machine on the cart.
"What is this?" Paige asked, her voice trembling as she tried to pull her wrists back, but the bands held her arms firmly to the chair.
"This is the next stage of your behavioral restructuring," the counselor explained calmly, picking up a small remote control. "Your file indicates a severe, deeply ingrained physical and emotional fixation on another female. Standard talk therapy has failed to break the delusion. Therefore, we must rewire your brain's response system. We are going to pair your obsessive thoughts with a negative physical stimulus."
Paige's breath hitched. Aversion therapy. "Every time an image appears on the screen, you will be required to focus on it," the counselor said, stepping back behind the machine. "If your scan shows a positive emotional or physiological response, if your heart rate spikes in a way that indicates affection or desire, this machine will deliver a localized electric shock to your wrists. We will continue until your body learns to associate the fixation with pain."
"No," Paige whispered, a sudden panic exploding in her chest as she struggled against the wrist bands. "No, please, you can't—"
"Quiet," the counselor ordered, hitting a switch on the console. The machine let out a low, ominous hum, and the television screen in front of Paige blinked to life, casting a harsh, cold glow over her face. "Let us begin."
The television screen flickered, and the first image appeared. It was a generic photograph of a woman smiling, followed by a picture of two women holding hands on a park bench. Paige stared straight ahead, her chest heaving as she forced her mind to go completely blank, trying to keep her breathing steady.
Zap. A sharp, stinging jolt of electricity snapped against the skin of her wrists. Paige gasped, her muscles jerking involuntarily against the straps.
"Keep your focus on the screen, Paige," the counselor said coldly, making a notation. "Do not attempt to suppress your baseline vitals. The machine reads through the deception."
The screen flashed again, cycling through more photos; women embracing, women laughing together. Each time Paige felt a flicker of recognition or standard human empathy, the machine responded with another biting shock. Her wrists were already burning, the skin turning a raw, irritated red under the metal sensors. She clenched her teeth, tears of frustration prickling the corners of her eyes.
Then, the screen blinked.
Paige’s heart didn't just spike; it completely stopped.
Sitting right there on the screen, illuminated by the harsh, clinical light of the monitor, was Azzi. It was a candid picture of Azzi sitting on their bed in their old room, her curls falling loosely over her shoulders, looking up at the camera with that private, soft, beautiful smile she only ever gave to Paige.
The rush of love and longing that flooded Paige’s chest was instantaneous, and the machine punished her for it immediately. A violent, sustained shock ripped through her wrists, forcing her fingers to curl into tight, agonizing claws.
But Paige barely even felt the physical pain. An explosion of pure fury eclipsed everything else. Her mind flashed instantly back to her parents' cold, judgmental faces.
"Did they give that to you?!" Paige shrieked, her voice dropping into a guttural, furious tone that echoed violently off the concrete walls. "Did my parents give you that picture?! Did they?!"
The counselor didn't answer, his fingers moving calmly over the dials as the machine continued to hum, registering her explosive heart rate and sending another biting shock directly into her arms.
Paige thrashed against the vinyl chair, the straps digging deep into her skin, but she didn't care. She leaned as far forward as the restraints allowed, glaring at the counselor with a face twisted in absolute, protective rage.
"You are all sick!" Paige screamed, her voice cracking into a raw, powerful sob as she looked back at the image of her girl. "You are all completely sick in the head! How dare you use Azzi's picture for this shit?! You don't deserve to see her face!"
The machine jolted her again, a sharp, prolonged buzz meant to force submission, but Paige just bared her teeth, refusing to look at the screen. She stared directly into the counselor's cold eyes, her chest heaving violently as tears of rage ran down her face.
"Shock me!" Paige yelled, her voice vibrating with a terrifying, unbroken intensity. "Go ahead! Shock me all you want! It's never going to work!"
The counselor, completely unbothered by her defiance, reached over and twisted a dial on the console, turning the voltage up. "Let us see if your convictions hold when the reality of your sin is laid bare," he said flatly.
The television monitor blinked, cycling to the next image in the file.
Paige’s voice caught violently in her throat. The rage that had been sustaining her instantly fractured into something raw, agonizing, and entirely out of control.
It wasn't just a picture of Azzi. It was a photo from one of those quiet, perfect nights in their room. The lighting was soft, shadows dancing on the wall behind them. Paige had her hands gently cupping Azzi's face, her thumbs resting on her cheekbones, while one of Azzi’s arms were wrapped tightly around Paige's neck. They were caught mid-kiss, their lips pressed together with a tenderness that felt so sacred it hurt.
The machine registered the immediate spike in Paige's vitals and unleashed a massive, continuous current of electricity. The shock slammed through her wrists, violently locking her muscles and forcing a strangled gasp from her lungs.
But seeing that beautiful, deeply intimate memory dragged into the dirt of this cell made Paige go ballistic.
"No! Get out! Get your eyes off of us!" Paige screamed; a wild, animalistic shriek of pure hysteria and madness.
The pain didn't exist anymore. The restraint didn't exist. With a terrifying, adrenaline-fueled burst of panic and fury, Paige violently threw her entire body weight forward. The chair tipped over with a deafening crash, slamming onto its side against the linoleum. The sheer force of her momentum, combined with the angle of the fall, ripped the worn velcro straps completely off the armrests.
She was up in a second. Her wrists were bleeding where the metal sensors had scraped against her skin, but she didn't care. Paige lunged across the small room, entirely blinded by a psychosis of protective rage.
"Turn it off! Turn it off, you perverts! You sick, disgusting freaks!" she roared, her voice tearing to shreds as she threw herself at the television monitor, violently smashing her fists against the frame, trying to rip the screen right off the wall. "That's ours! You don't get to look at how she loves me! You don't get to see that! You don't get to have us!"
"Security to Aversion Room 3!" the counselor shouted, slamming his back against the wall in genuine terror as he scrambled to get away from her. "The resident has completely destabilized! Security!"
Paige whipped around, her hair tangled wildly across her face, her eyes wide, bloodshot, and entirely devoid of reason. She was hyperventilating, sobbing, and screaming at the top of her lungs, her words echoing like gunfire off the concrete walls.
"You think this is going to make me forget how she feels?!" Paige yelled, her chest heaving violently as she stepped toward the counselor, pointing a shaking, bloody finger at him. "I hate you! I hate all of you!"
—
The steel door opened abruptly, Nika, stepped out immediately.
"Hey, you," the staff member barked, pointing a finger at Nika. "Grab the first-aid kit from the duty desk and go into Bueckers' room. Staff said to clean her up. She made a mess of herself in aversion."
Nika’s heart dropped into her stomach. Clean her up? She didn't know what that meant, and the cold, detached way the staff member said it made her blood run cold. She didn't ask questions, though. She grabbed the plastic medical kit and practically bolted into Paige’s room, the door slamming shut behind her.
The room was dimly lit, and the smell of copper and sweat hung heavy in the air. Paige was sitting on the edge of the narrow mattress. She wasn't yelling anymore. In fact, she looked completely hollowed out; her shoulders slumped, her hair tangled wildly around her face, her eyes staring blankly at the concrete floor.
Then Nika saw her arms. Paige's wrists were raw and actively bleeding where the metal sensors had been violently ripped from her skin.
"Oh my god, Paige," Nika breathed, dropping the first-aid kit onto the bed and rushing to her knees in front of her. She gently took Paige’s hands, her fingers trembling as she looked at the wounds. "What happened? What did they do to you?"
Paige didn't look up right away. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was incredibly quiet, raspy, and completely checked out, as if she were speaking from a million miles away.
"Nika..." Paige whispered, her blank eyes slowly shifting to focus on her friend. "If they call your name... if they tell you to go to aversion therapy... you have to refuse. Don't let them take you in there. Just fight them. Force them to drag you somewhere else, but don't go into that room."
"Paige, you're shaking. Look at me," Nika urged, opening the kit and pulling out antiseptic wipes and gauze. She began to gently dab at the blood on Paige's right wrist, trying to be as soft as possible. "What is in that room? Why are your wrists like this?"
"They have a machine," Paige said, her voice completely flat, devoid of the rage she had felt just an hour ago. She was weak now, her body entirely spent. "They strap you down and shock you. They... they want to pair the pain with what you love."
Nika paused, her eyes widening as she wiped away a fresh layer of blood. "They tried to shock you when you thought about Azzi?"
"They had pictures, Nika," Paige murmured, a single, helpless tear falling, though her face remained completely expressionless. She looked so fragile, sitting there while Nika wrapped clean white gauze around her arm. "They had a picture of her in our dorm room. They kept shocking me, and I was screaming at them... and then they put up a photo of us. Of us kissing. In our room."
Paige let out a tiny, hollow breath that sounded almost like a broken laugh. "My parents gave it to them. I flipped the chair, tore the straps off, and I smashed the machine. I yelled at them."
Nika stopped wrapping, her chest tightening with a mixture of pride and absolute horror. She looked up at Paige’s pale, empty face, then down at the bloody gauze.
"It didn't work," Paige whispered, her eyes drifting back to the floor, her voice barely audible. "It's never going to work. But I'm so tired, I feel like my chest is completely empty."
"Hey," Nika said softly, catching Paige’s chin gently with her hand to make her look up. She finished taping the bandage secure on the second wrist. "You protected her. You fought for her, P. They didn't break you." Nika squeezed her hands tightly, her own eyes fierce with determination. "And I promise you, we are getting out of here soon."
Nika sat on the edge of the mattress as Paige slowly rolled onto her back, her strength completely gone. The adrenaline that had carried Paige through her outburst in the aversion room was entirely spent, leaving her looking smaller and more fragile than ever.
With a shaking, bandaged hand, Paige reached beneath the collar of her shirt and pulled out her locket. She brought the cold metal up to her lips, closing her eyes tightly as she pressed a desperate, lingering kiss to it.
"I can't do it, Nika," Paige sobbed, her voice cracking into a raw, breathless whisper. She let her arm fall back onto the bed, the locket resting against her chest. "My whole body hurts, and my brain... my brain can't handle it anymore. I’m so weak."
Nika shifted closer, her heart breaking as she watched her friend completely unravel. She reached out, gently smoothing the tangled blonde hair away from Paige’s forehead.
"You're not weak, P," Nika murmured softly, trying to inject as much strength into her voice as she could. "Look what you just did. You fought them off. You smashed their machine."
"But that was just today," Paige choked out, staring blankly at the ceiling as the tears kept flowing. "They are just going to push me harder tomorrow. They’re going to bring in something worse. They aren't going to stop until there's nothing left of me. I can't keep fighting a whole building, Nika. I'm going to lose her. They're going to make me lose my mind."
Nika didn't say anything right away. She just leaned down, wrapping her arms around Paige’s shaking shoulders, pulling her close to let her know she wasn't alone.
"They aren't going to break you, because I'm not going to let them have enough time," Nika whispered fiercely into her hair, her jaw tightening with determination. "Just lie still, rest your body, and let me worry about the everything else."
—
The click of a key turning in the lock broke the dead silence of the night. Paige barely stirred, her body still entirely spent from the afternoon, but her eyes fluttered open as a nurse walked into the dim room. Without a word, the nurse forced two small pills into Paige's hand and held a paper cup of water to her lips. Too exhausted and weak to fight, Paige swallowed them. Within minutes, darkness dragged her under, heavier than any normal sleep.
When she woke up, her head was spinning with a blinding, chemical fog.
She blinked against a searing, white light. The familiar concrete walls of her room were gone. She was back in the aversion room, but this time, they had prepared for her. Heavy, thick leather straps were locked tight around her chest, ankles, and her arms, pinning her completely flat and motionless against a chair. She couldn't even twitch her fingers.
"Let's try this again, Paige," the cold voice of the counselor echoed from the shadows behind the monitor. "Without the theatrics."
The screen blinked to life.
The images began to cycle, but this time, they didn't just let the photos sit there. As the candid pictures of Azzi alone in their dorm room appeared, followed by the deeply private photos of them kissing, the counselor began to speak over them in a low, relentless, clinical drone.
"Look at her," the counselor pressured, the machine delivering a steady, dull pulse of electricity to Paige’s wrists that felt like hundreds of needles pricking her skin. "Look at how she manipulates the camera. Look at the selfishness in her eyes. She doesn't love you. She used you to fulfill her own sick, disordered needs. She dragged you down into this filth and left you here to suffer the consequences while she's out there living her life."
The screen changed to the photo of them kissing on their bed; the memory Paige had tried so desperately to protect just hours before.
"This isn't love," the counselor’s voice cut through the fog in Paige's brain, dripping with cold disgust. "This is a parasite destroying a host. She is a sickness, Paige. She is the reason your parents don't look at you the same way. She’s the reason your siblings don’t have a big sister anymore. She is the root of every ounce of pain you are feeling right now. If she truly cared about you, she would have never touched you."
The continuous shocks buzzed against her raw skin, pairing the physical agony perfectly with the cruel, systematic destruction of her safest memories.
Paige was so entirely broken she couldn't even find the rage to scream anymore. The fury that had saved her that afternoon had been completely washed away by the medication and the relentless cruelty of the assault. She just lay her head back against the headrest, her throat tight, a quiet, broken sob escaping her lips as she stared helplessly at the screen. Her mind was too tired to fight the words, too weak to hold up the shield she had carried for so long, and as she watched Azzi's beautiful face twist under the counselor's criticisms, she felt a terrifying, hollow despair start to take root deep inside her chest.
The medication still held Paige in a tight, suffocating grip when the staff finally dumped her back onto the thin mattress of her room. The door locked with a definitive, echoing clang, plunging the tiny room into darkness.
Paige curled into a tight, trembling ball, pulling her knees up to her chest. The raw skin on her wrists throbbed with a dull, burning ache, but the pain in her mind was infinitely worse.
Desperate to survive the night, Paige pulled the hidden locket up to her lips, pressing it against her mouth until her teeth ached. She closed her eyes tightly and began to whisper into the dark, her voice a fragile, fractured thread.
"I love you," Paige breathed, her chest heaving with a quiet sob. "I love you, Paige. Don't listen to them."
She paused, swallowing hard, and closed her eyes even tighter, forcing herself to remember the exact cadence of Azzi's voice.
"I'm right here," Paige whispered back to herself, her voice shifting slightly as she tried to mimic Azzi’s soft, grounding tone. "I'm right here, P. They're lying to you. I would never leave you."
"It hurts so much, Azzi," Paige murmured in her own voice, a tear slipping down her nose. "My head hurts. They're trying to take you away."
"They can't take me," Paige whispered back, answering for the girl who wasn't there. "They aren't strong enough. Look at me, Paige. Just look at me."
In the pitch-black room, with her brain entirely fried from the shocks, the medication, and the psychological trauma of the day, the fragile line between memory and reality completely snapped. The room didn't feel like a prison anymore. The air felt warmer. The smell of copper and sweat seemed to fade, replaced by the faint, comforting scent of Azzi’s shampoo and perfume.
Paige blinked, her pupils dilated in the dark. Through the haze of her exhaustion, she didn't just imagine Azzi; she truly believed she was there.
She could feel the phantom sensation of a soft hand gently brushing the tangled hair away from her forehead. She could see the silhouette of Azzi’s shoulders sitting right there on the edge of the cot, looking down at her with those familiar, protective eyes.
"You came for me," Paige choked out, a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief washing over her broken features. She didn't feel weak anymore; she felt safe. She reached her bandaged hands out into the empty air, her fingers closing around nothingness, but to her shattered mind, she was holding onto the only person who mattered. "I knew you would. I told them you would."
"I'm always here, I love you so much, baby. Get some sleep." Paige's mind supplied for the illusion, her lips barely moving as she lay completely still, cradled entirely by the heartbreaking comfort of her own psychosis.
She pressed her cheek against the rough fabric of her pillow, convinced she was resting her head right against Azzi's chest. Shielded by the hallucination, Paige finally let her eyelids close, her breathing slowing down as she drifted into a deep, protected sleep, completely unaware that she was entirely alone.
—
The cafeteria was dead silent when Paige dragged her feet across the linoleum, holding her tray with weak, trembling hands. She looked completely hollowed out. Dark, bruised circles ringed her sunken eyes, her skin was a pale gray, and her hair was a tangled mess. She sat down next to Nika like a ghost, staring blankly at her food.
Nika’s heart twisted in her chest just looking at her. She reached out, immediately wrapping her hand around Paige's bandaged wrist, being careful of the raw burns underneath. "Paige... oh my god. Did they take you back there last night?"
Paige didn't look upset, though. In fact, a faint, terrifyingly vacant smile touched her cracked lips. She turned her hollow eyes to Nika, her voice a soft, airy whisper.
"Azzi came and visited me last night," Paige murmured, her expression completely detached from the bleak reality around them. "It was so nice to have her back. She sat right on my bed and held me. She told me she loved me. It made the pain go away."
Nika froze, the air leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp. She stared at Paige, her mind racing with absolute, pure terror. Azzi isn't here. Azzi is hours away. The realization hit Nika like a physical blow: the shocks, the medication, and the torture had completely fried Paige’s brain. She was hallucinating. She was breaking.
A cold panic erupted in Nika’s chest. We have to leave. We have to get out of this place immediately, tonight, she thought desperately.
But Nika looked at the fragile, glassy look in Paige’s eyes and knew she couldn't say that out loud. If she snapped Paige back to reality right now, if she tore down the one coping mechanism her shattered mind had built to survive, Paige might completely collapse. She didn't need a frantic escape plan thrown at her while she was this weak, she just needed to feel safe.
Nika forced her face into the softest, most reassuring expression she could manage, swallowing down the lump of fear in her throat. She squeezed Paige’s hand gently.
"That's... that's great, P," Nika said softly, her voice thick with a fierce, protective emotion. "I'm so incredibly happy she came to see you. I’m glad you have her back."
Paige nodded vaguely, leaning her head onto Nika's shoulder, letting out a small, contented sigh. Nika held her tight, staring over Paige's head at the staff by the door, her eyes burning with a dangerous, quiet resolve.
Nika waited until the post-breakfast transition, scanning the hallway until she spotted the counselor who had helped her track Paige down in isolation. He was carrying a stack of files, looking nervous as he avoided eye contact with the residents.
Nika stepped out of the line, ducking into a blind spot in the corridor near the staff supply closet. As he walked past, she reached out, grabbed his forearm, and yanked him into the cramped, dimly lit alcove.
"What are you doing?!" he hissed, his eyes darting frantically to the open door. "If someone sees us—"
"Listen to me," Nika cut him off, her voice a sharp, desperate whisper. She stepped into his space, her eyes fiercely locked onto his. "Paige is losing her mind. She's hallucinating. She's going to die down here if we don't get out, and I am not leaving her behind."
"Nika, I can't just open the doors," he stammered, pulling back. "The security protocols in the basement—"
"If Paige goes down, I’m taking you with us," Nika threatened directly, her voice dropping into a cold, unwavering register. "The second they bring me in for questioning, I will tell everyone exactly how you helped me see her in isolation. I’ll tell them how you helped me lie my way down here."
The counselor's face drained of color. He swallowed hard, his hands shaking against the files in his arms. He knew she meant it. "Tonight is impossible," he whispered urgently, leaning closer. "The head supervisor is on the night shift tonight. But... tomorrow night is different."
Nika kept her grip tight on his arm. "What happens tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow is Wednesday. The night shift rotates," he explained, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "I’m scheduled to transport Paige to a midnight aversion session in the secondary wing. If you wait until then, I can falsify the transfer paperwork to include your name. I’ll bring you along as a peer restraint. I can use my badge to unlock the side exit near the parking lot. I’ll help you leave."
Nika stared at him, analyzing his face for any sign of a trap. He was terrified, completely compromised, and desperate to protect his own skin.
"Midnight tomorrow," Nika repeated, slowly letting go of his arm. "If you cross us—"
"I won't," he promised breathlessly, backing out of the closet. "Just... keep her quiet until then."
He slipped back into the hallway, disappearing into the crowd of staff. Nika stepped out a moment later, her chest heaving as she leaned against the concrete wall. They had a plan. They had a real, concrete way out.
But as she looked down the hall toward Paige's room, a cold weight settled into her stomach. Twenty-four hours. She just had to figure out how to keep Paige grounded, safe, and alive for another twenty-four hours.
The group therapy room felt suffocatingly small. A circle of residents sat in plastic chairs under the flat, humming lights, but Paige was barely present. She sat completely numb, her hands loosely folded over her wrapped wrists, staring blankly at a scratch on the linoleum floor. Her eyes were wide but entirely unfocused, fixed on a world only she could see.
The counselor ran a hand down her clipboard, her eyes landing on Paige. "Paige," she called out, her voice echoing coldly in the quiet room. "We were just discussing how accountability creates true freedom. What did you think about what your peer just shared regarding her own failures?"
Paige didn't move. The silence stretched so long that the other girls began to shift uncomfortably.
"Paige?" the counselor repeated, sharper this time.
Slowly, Paige’s head tilted up. Her face was empty and entirely stripped of her usual warmth. "I don't... it doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice incredibly raspy, barely carrying across the circle.
Nika, sitting three chairs down, gripped the edge of her seat so hard her nails dug into the plastic. Her stomach twisted into knots. The fact that Paige wasn't fighting back anymore was terrifying.
Hours later, the dinner bell rang, but Paige never made it to the cafeteria.
Nika slipped away from the line, ducking down the dim corridor and pushing open the unlocked door to Paige's cell. The room was dark, but the violent, muffled sound of retching instantly made Nika's blood run cold.
Paige was on her knees in the cramped bathroom corner, her small frame shaking violently as she threw up into the toilet. Her skin was a sickly, translucent white, slick with a cold sweat, and she was hyperventilating, her body completely rejecting the medication and the stress of the past forty-eight hours.
"Paige, oh god," Nika breathed, rushing to her side. She knelt in the dark, gathering Paige's tangled blonde hair back with one hand while gently rubbing her trembling back with the other.
Paige collapsed against the rim of the toilet, letting out a weak, pathetic sob. She was too exhausted to even wipe her mouth, her chest heaving as she closed her eyes against the blinding headache splitting her mind apart. "Nika... everything is spinning," she choked out, her voice a fragile, broken thread. "I feel so sick. I can't keep it down."
"I know, I know. Just breathe, P. I've got you," Nika whispered, her own eyes burning with tears as she grabbed a piece of rough paper towel, wetting it to press against Paige's burning forehead.
As she wiped the sweat from Paige's pale face, Nika looked at the raw, bandaged wrists and the exhaustion hollowed into her best friend's features. A fierce, desperate mantra started looping in Nika's own mind, the only thing keeping her from screaming down the hallway.
One more day. Just one more day. She adjusted the cool towel, pulling Paige close against her side to share her warmth. Just hold on for twenty-four hours, Paige. Tomorrow at midnight, we are running, and I am bringing you back to the real world.
—
The air in the unit was cold, but Paige was burning up, her body still fighting the residual nausea and the lingering toxins of the facility's medication.
She curled onto her side on the mattress, a violent shiver running through her frame. Her mind, pushed far past the brink of exhaustion, completely fractured once again. The concrete walls dissolved into the background as the trauma rebuilt her safer, gentler reality.
In the dark, Paige wasn't alone.
She could feel the distinct warmth of a blanket being pulled up over her shoulders, and then the comforting weight of a body settling onto the cot right behind her. To Paige's fried senses, Azzi’s arms were wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her back against a warm chest.
"I've got you, P," a voice whispered in the dark. It was sweet, grounding, and completely real to Paige’s ears. "You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you for fighting for us."
A soft, broken sigh escaped Paige's lips. "It hurts so much, Azzi," she murmured into the empty room, her voice a fragile, slurred whimper. "I had to do another session today and they kept saying you don't love me. I could feel myself slipping away from you."
"They can't take you away from me," the phantom voice answered back, filled with a beautiful tenderness. "I love you more than anything. Just hold onto me. Close your eyes and listen to my chest. I'm not going anywhere."
In reality, the cot was completely empty.
Paige was entirely alone in the dark, her knees tucked tight to her chest. Her own hands, still wrapped in thick white gauze, were crossed over her chest, her fingers rhythmically rubbing her own arms and shoulders, trying to simulate the feeling of being held. She was stroking her own back, her lips moving silently as she supplied both halves of the conversation, her mind desperately working overtime to give her the comfort she needed to survive.
"You're safe now," Paige whispered to herself, her voice shifting to that softer, protective cadence as she rubbed her own trembling shoulders. "Your wrists will heal eventually. Just rest, baby. I'm right here. I love you."
Convinced she was tucked safely under Azzi’s chin, breathing in the imaginary scent of lavender and warmth, Paige finally let her eyes close.
—
The next morning, Paige sat in her own quiet world. She looked worse than the day before; her skin had a waxy, translucent look, and her eyes were wide, glassy, and completely detached from the room.
Nika watched her closely, her own heart hammering against her ribs. Twelve hours, Nika kept repeating to herself like a lifeline. Just twelve more hours until midnight.
Paige suddenly leaned across the table, a strange, breathless excitement animating her hollow features. "She visited me again last night, Nika," she whispered, her voice carrying an eerie, lightweight joy. "We were cuddling the whole night. She held me so tight. You have no idea how happy I am, I missed my girl so much."
Nika felt a cold shiver trace down her spine, but she kept her face carefully composed. She reached across the table and gently squeezed Paige’s bandaged hand. "I’m glad she was there to comfort you, P."
"But... she always leaves right after I fall asleep," Paige continued, her brow furrowing slightly as a flicker of confusion crossed her face. She looked down at her untouched breakfast tray, her voice dropping into an anxious, childlike whisper. "I don't know why she hasn't taken me with her yet. I told her how bad it is here."
Nika froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"Tonight, when she comes back, I'm going to tell her," Paige said, nodding to herself with a sudden, tragic certainty. A tear slipped down her pale cheek, though her glassy smile remained fixed. "I'm going to tell her to take me with her. I can't wait to go home, Nika. I'm telling her tonight that we have to leave."
Nika’s chest tightened with panic. Hearing Paige talk about asking an illusion to "take her away" sent a jolt of pure terror through her. Paige’s grip on reality was practically gone. If Nika let her wait for a hallucination that would never arrive, Paige would completely shatter by morning.
Nika gripped Paige’s hand tighter, leaning in close so their foreheads were almost touching, her voice fierce with a desperate, hidden truth.
"Paige, listen to me," Nika whispered urgently, her eyes locked onto her friend's vacant stare, trying to bring her back to reality. "You are going home. Okay? I promise you, you are leaving this place. Just hold on through today. Don't worry about tonight. You just have to trust me, okay?"
—
The door to the room clicked loudly, the sound cutting through the thick silence of the basement.
Inside, Paige was completely deep in her own world. She was sitting upright on the edge of the mattress, her eyes wide and fixed on the empty air right beside her. Her fingers were gently smoothing down the wrinkles of the blanket, her lips moving in a quiet, frantic whisper.
"We just have to wait a little longer," Paige murmured to the empty space, a frail, glassy smile on her face. "I'll tell them to go away. We're leaving tonight, right? I can’t wait to be back in our room."
The door swung fully open. The counselor stepped into the room, his face pale and sweating under the dim hallway lights, his hands trembling as he held his clipboard. Right behind him was Nika, her jaw set, her eyes burning with a desperate, sharp focus.
Paige blinked, the light from the hallway breaking her trance. She immediately threw her arm out over the empty mattress, as if shielding someone from view.
"Go away!" Paige cried out, her voice raspy and panicked as she glared at the counselor. "Leave us alone! Get out!"
The counselor took a panicked step back, his eyes darting to the hallway. "Nika, quiet her down," he hissed under his breath. "If the supervisor hears her screaming—"
Nika didn't wait. She rushed past him, dropping to her knees in front of Paige. She grabbed Paige's arms gently but firmly.
"Paige, Paige, look at me. Shh, be quiet," Nika whispered fiercely, her voice cutting through the panic in the room. She leaned in so close their foreheads almost touched. "Listen to me very carefully. Grab everything you brought here right now."
Paige's eyes floated wildly, trying to look past Nika's shoulder at the empty bed. "But I’m spending time with Az—"
"Azzi is taking you home," Nika interrupted, her voice dropping into deep certainty that snapped right through Paige's delusion. Nika squeezed her hands tight, looking directly into her glassy eyes. "She’s waiting for you at home, Paige. We are getting out of here right now. But you need to stand up and come with me."
The word home seemed to spark recognition deep within Paige's fried mind. The vacant smile vanished, replaced by a sudden, desperate clarity. She nodded weakly, her hands shaking as she reached into her shirt to ensure the locket was secure before getting off the bed to grab her backpack, and then gripping Nika’s arm like a lifeline.
"Let's move," the counselor whispered frantically from the doorway, his keys jingling in his trembling hand.
The three of them stepped out into the dim hallway of the basement ward. The counselor kept his head down, holding his clipboard tightly against his chest, while Nika walked close to Paige’s side, keeping a firm grip on her elbow. Paige moved like a shadow, her steps slightly sluggish from the exhaustion, but her eyes were fixed straight ahead, clinging to the promise Nika had just made her.
They walked past the first intersection, blending in perfectly as if heading toward the secondary wing for the therapy. But as they reached the end of the hall, the counselor took a sharp, sudden left turn, leading them down a narrow hallway that pointed toward the facility's emergency exits.
Nika’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, but she kept her face completely blank, marching forward.
At the end of the hall stood an exit door marked with a red security light. The counselor reached into his pocket, his fingers shaking as he selected a brass key from his ring. He slid it into the lock, turned it with a muffled click, and pushed the door open to the cool, crisp night air.
"My shift just ended," he whispered frantically, checking his watch. "My car is parked right in the first row of the employee lot. Walking out now looks completely normal. We just need to walk calmly. No running."
They stepped out into the dark parking lot. The fresh air hit Paige's face, and she let out a tiny, breathless gasp, her glassy eyes looking up at the open sky for the first time in months. They maintained a steady, even pace across the asphalt, matching the counselor’s steps until they reached a unassuming silver car.
He unlocked the doors with a quick beep. "Get in. Fast."
Nika pulled Paige into the backseat, and the counselor slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine without turning on the headlights until they cleared the main driveway.
"Get down on the floorboards. Lay completely flat," he ordered, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the main road.
Nika pulled Paige down into the cramped space behind the front seats, pressing her back against the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly around Paige, shielding her body with her own. Paige didn't fight it; she just held onto her locket, her breathing shallow as the steady hum of the tires against the pavement signaled their growing distance from the facility.
For thirty agonizing minutes, nobody spoke. The car twisted through dark country roads before the glowing lights of a small, quiet town began to filter through the windows. The counselor pulled the car into the dark, shadowed corner of a gravel parking lot adjacent to a small train station.
He killed the engine and turned around in his seat. "We're here. You can get up."
Nika and Paige sat up, rubbing their cramped limbs. The counselor reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, handing it over to Nika. "There’s five hundred dollars in here, enough for two train tickets, food and a hotel for a few nights, as soon as they realize you’re gone you’ll be put on the missing persons list. You need to get yourself off of it as soon as possible, understand?"
Nika took the envelope, her fingers tightening around it. "Thank you," she breathed, a genuine wave of relief washing over her.
"Go. Don't look back," he whispered.
Nika grabbed Paige’s hand, opening the door. They stepped out into the cool night, the gravel crunching softly beneath their shoes as they walked calmly but quickly toward the glowing platform of the train station.
The air inside the small train station was warm and smelled faintly of old coffee and floor wax. Nika kept her arm hooked securely through Paige’s, guiding her toward the fluorescent glow of the ticket counter. Paige walked beside her in a daze, her eyes darting around the empty lobby, her fingers still nervously clutching the locket hidden beneath her shirt.
A tired looking clerk looked up from behind the glass partition as they approached.
"Two tickets to Washington, D.C., please," Nika said, her voice remarkably steady as she slid a portion of the cash from the envelope across the counter. "The next available train."
The clerk nodded sleepily, tapping at a keyboard before printing out two paper tickets. Nika scooped them up along with her change, keeping a tight grip on Paige as they walked out onto the platform. Within ten minutes, the low, powerful rumble of the tracks signaled the train's arrival. The metal doors slid open, and Nika guided Paige up the steps and into the quiet, dimly lit passenger car.
They found a pair of empty seats near the back. The train let out a deep hiss, and with a gentle jolt, it began to roll forward, slowly pulling out of the station and into the dark expanse of the night.
As the town lights began to fade through the window, the reality of what they had just accomplished seemed to finally break through the fog in Paige's mind.
Paige turned in her seat, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears. Without a word, she threw her arms around Nika’s neck, burying her face into her friend's shoulder. She held on with everything she had, her whole body shaking with a quiet, releasing sob.
"Thank you," Paige choked out, her voice raw but filled with emotion. She squeezed Nika tightly, her bandaged wrists resting against Nika's back. "I love you so much."
Nika wrapped her arms around Paige, holding her tight as the clicking of the train tracks filled the quiet cabin. For the first time in weeks, Nika let out a full, unburdened breath, resting her chin on Paige's head. "I've got you, P," Nika whispered softly into her hair. "We're safe now. We're going home."
—
The pale, weak light of a cold November morning filtered through the window, casting long, gray shadows across Azzi’s bedroom. She stirred under her blankets, the room freezing despite the radiator’s low hum. For months, waking up had been the hardest part of her day; the brief, cruel second of forgetfulness before the weight of Paige’s disappearance settled right back onto her chest.
A sharp vibration from her phone on the nightstand broke the silence.
Azzi rolled over, squinting against the screen's glare.
Caroline: Azzi, are you awake?
Caroline: I need you to go get Ines and bring her into your room. Tell me the second you guys are together. Please.
Azzi sat up quickly, her heart skipping a beat. A cold wave of dread washed over her. Caroline’s texts were never like this. Why would she need Ines? Why the secrecy?
Too anxious to reply first, Azzi threw off her blankets, her bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. She practically ran down the short hallway to Ines’s room, knocking urgently before slipping inside. Ines was still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes in confusion as Azzi grabbed her arm.
"Ines, get up. You need to come to my room right now," Azzi whispered, her voice tight with panic.
"What? Azzi, what's going on?"
"I don't know, just come on."
Azzi pulled a bewildered Ines back into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. They sat side by side on the edge of the mattress. With shaking fingers, Azzi unlocked her phone and typed out a reply.
Azzi: Ines is in my room. What’s going on?
An agonizing minute passed. The bubble indicating Caroline was typing appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.
Then, two images came through in rapid succession.
Azzi tapped the first photo. It was a digital flyer, bordered in stark, official red lettering: MISSING PERSONS REPORT. Underneath, looking out from a photo taken about a year ago, was Paige. Her bright smile, her familiar eyes; all of it slapped next to a cold list of physical descriptors and a contact number for the state police.
Azzi’s breath hitched, a high, strangled sound escaping her throat. "No..." she whispered. "No, no, no."
She swiped to the second image. It was another missing persons report, identical in format. But the face staring back was a girl Azzi had never seen before in her life. Dark hair, sharp features, intense eyes. The name printed in bold letters at the top read: NIKA MÜHL.
Before Azzi’s brain could even begin to process the name, a final text from Caroline popped up at the bottom of the screen.
Caroline: They went missing together. I'm so sorry Azzi.
The phone slipped from Azzi's hand, clattering uselessly against the mattress.
"Azzi? What is it? Let me see," Ines pleaded, her voice rising in panic as she reached for the phone.
Azzi couldn't answer. She couldn't breathe. The room felt like it was spinning violently out of control. Wherever Paige had been all this time, she was gone now, lost somewhere with a stranger named Nika.
Azzi’s hands flew to her face as a violent, gut-wrenching sob tore through her chest. She collapsed forward, her forehead pressing against her knees as she completely broke down, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Ines reached down and picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she looked at the illuminated screen. The two missing persons reports stared back at her. She gasped, a cold dread instantly wrapping around her chest as she stared at Paige’s familiar, bright smile next to the bold red letters, and then at the dark-haired girl, Nika, who had vanished right alongside her.
"Oh my god," Ines breathed, her voice cracking as the sheer weight of the horror sank in. She dropped the phone onto the mattress and immediately threw her arms around Azzi, pulling her close. "Azzi, oh my god. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Azzi clung to Ines’s shirt, her fingers clawing at the fabric as if she were trying to keep herself from completely spinning off the edge of the earth. She was hyperventilating, her chest heaving with violent, ragged gasps as the dam broke, and she dissolved into a devastating, uncontrollable sob.
"My baby..." Azzi wailed, the sound raw and entirely broken, echoing painfully against the walls of the bedroom. "Ines, my baby is gone. Where is she? Where did she go?"
"Shh, I've got you. Just breathe, Azzi, please breathe," Ines whispered fiercely, rubbing Azzi's back as she rocked her back and forth, her own tears beginning to spill over.
"Look at the report," Azzi choked out, her voice rising in a panicked, hysterical spiral. She shook her head violently, burying her face into Ines's shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric. "That town... that's hours away from her house! Why was she all the way out there? She’s not safe, Ines. Who is Nika? Why were they together?"
Azzi was an absolute mess, her entire body shaking so violently that her teeth chattered. The months of not knowing where Paige had been had suddenly culminated in this terrifying, active nightmare.
"We're going to find her," Ines promised desperately, squeezing Azzi as tight as she possibly could, trying to be the comfort her friend so desperately needed as Azzi sobbed herself raw in the dark. "We're going to figure this out, Azzi."
"I can't be here," Azzi choked out, her voice rising in a panicked, breathless spiral as she tried to pull away from Ines’s embrace. She was hyperventilating, her hands clawing frantically at her own hair. "Ines, I need to go home. I can't just sit here!"
"Azzi, stop, look at me," Ines pleaded, grabbing her hands. "Just breathe, please, just try to calm down for a second so we can think."
"I can't calm down!" Azzi sobbed, her face completely wet with tears as she shook her head violently. Then, she stopped, her eyes landing on her phone lying on the bed. A desperate, fragile look crossed her face. "My phone. Ines, grab my phone."
Ines immediately snatched it up. "Okay, okay. I have it. What do you need?"
"Go to my voice memos," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of grief washed over her. "Go to the very first one. Play it. Just... please, hold it up to my ear."
Ines quickly swiped through the screen, finding the app and tapping the very first recording in the list. She gently leaned forward and held the speaker of the phone directly up to Azzi's ear.
A quiet static hummed for a second, and then, Paige’s voice filled the space between them. It was warm, clear, and so vibrantly alive that it felt like a ghost had just stepped into the room.
“Hi, baby,” Paige laughed softly through the speaker. “You’re probably never even gonna hear this because this seems like a weird app to use, but you’re in the shower right now and I’m just sitting on your bed bored out of my mind, so... I figured, why not record something for you?”
Azzi squeezed her eyes shut, a soft, broken whimper escaping her lips as she pressed her head closer to the phone.
“I was just looking at you before you went in, and I don't know, I just wanted to say that you are so beautiful, Az. Like, actually insane. I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” Paige’s voice continued, lighthearted and sweet, completely untainted by the nightmare of the last few months. “You’re so smart, and you have the prettiest smile, and I love you so much. Even when you make me carry your bookbag across campus. Seriously, what do you even keep in there? I love you anyway, though.”
Azzi let out a shattered, wet laugh through her sobs, her chest aching so violently she could barely draw breath. She could picture Paige sitting on her mattress, talking into the phone with that stupid, beautiful grin on her face.
“You’re probably gonna turn the water off soon, so I should stop rambling. I love you, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you when you get out.” The recording paused for a brief second, and then Paige made a soft, exaggerated kissing sound right into the microphone “Mwah.” before the audio cut to silence.
Azzi completely collapsed against Ines, her forehead burying into her friend’s shoulder as she cried harder than she ever had before, her heart breaking into a million pieces over the voice of the girl she loved.
With her chest aching and her mind spinning out of control, Azzi reached for her phone with trembling fingers. Her parents had no idea she even had a phone here; it was strictly against academy rules; but in this moment of absolute terror, those restrictions didn't matter. She was stripped bare, reduced to a frightened, desperate child who just wanted her mother.
She typed in her mom’s number and pressed the phone to her ear, her breathing coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the line rang.
"Azzi?" her mom's voice answered, her tone instantly filled with a mix of surprise and immediate concern.
"Mom," Azzi gasped out. The word came out as a broken, choked-up sob. "Mom, please. You have to come get me."
"What's wrong? Why are you crying like that?" her mom asked. Her voice wasn't cold or disapproving; instead, it was warm and deeply worried.
Azzi completely disintegrated on the line, her voice rising in a high, frantic wail that sounded incredibly small.
"I can't be here, Mom! I can't stay here anymore!" Azzi begged, clutching the phone hard. She sounded so helpless, reaching out for her mother the way she used to when she was little. "Please, just come pick me up. I need to come home. Please, Mom. I need you. Just come get me, please..."
Hearing the tone of her daughter's voice, Katie didn't ask questions about the forbidden phone or press for details. The maternal instinct to protect her child completely took over.
"Azzi...breathe. It's okay. I’m right here," her mom said, her voice soft, soothing, and entirely focused on comforting her. "Listen to me. Pack up whatever you need to. I am getting in the car right this second. Just stay inside and keep yourself safe until I get there, okay?"
"Okay," Azzi whispered, a tiny, fragile breath of relief escaping her lips. "Thank you, Mama."
"I'll see you soon, honey. I love you," her mom said gently before hanging up.
Azzi let the phone slide onto the bed, pulling her knees back to her chest and leaning heavily against Ines as she cried, waiting for the long drive home to begin.
—
With her mom on the way, Azzi’s panic shifted into a frantic, hyper-focused energy. She pulled a suitcase from the closet and began packing, but she wasn't just grabbing her own clothes.
She went straight for the items Paige had left behind during their time together. She carefully folded Paige’s clothes, still holding onto the faint, fading scent of her, and packed them at the very bottom of the bag. She gathered a stray notebook full of Paige’s drawings, Paige’s sheets, and a soft gray blanket they had shared on cold nights. Only after Paige’s things were completely safe inside did Azzi pack a suitcase of her own things.
By the time she finished her hands were still shaking, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
Azzi carried her suitcase down the quiet, polished hallway toward the main office to officially check out. Ines walked right beside her, carrying her second suitcase, offering a quiet, steady presence.
When they entered the office, Azzi’s mom, was already standing near the front desk. She looked anxious, her eyes instantly locking onto Azzi’s pale, tear-stained face.
Before Katie could even speak, sister Margret stepped out from behind the desk. She looked at Azzi with a profound, gentle sadness in her eyes.
"Oh, Azzi," she said softly, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on Azzi's trembling shoulder. "We saw the news report this morning. We are so, so incredibly sorry."
Azzi’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears welling up in her eyes. She just nodded mutely, unable to find her voice.
"We completely understand why you need to go home and be surrounded by your family right now," the sister continued, turning her warm gaze to Katie, then back to Azzi. "We are praying for her, dear. We pray she is found safe and sound, and that you get to see her again very soon. May god watch over both of you."
"Thank you, Sister," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking as she wiped a tear from her cheek.
Katie stood by the door, a look of deep confusion crossing her face. She had no idea who this missing girl was, what report the nun was talking about, or why her daughter was so utterly devastated over it. But as she looked at Azzi; who seemed so small, fragile, and completely broken, Katie chose to set her questions aside. This wasn't the time to interrogate her.
Katie stepped forward, taking a suitcase from Ines’ hand. She wrapped her free arm tightly around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her close against her side.
"Let's go home," Katie said gently, offering a polite nod to the sister and Ines as she guided her sobbing daughter out into the crisp November air toward the waiting car.
—
The six-hour drive back home was a quiet, agonizing stretch of highway under the pitch-black November sky.
Azzi curled up in the passenger seat, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the window as the headlights of passing cars blurred through her tears. She was miserable, her chest aching with a hollow, physical pain. She sobbed until her throat was completely raw, then she would quiet down into a silent, shaking state of shock, only for the reality to crash over her again, starting the cycle of weeping all over again.
Katie sat in the driver's seat, keeping her eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. She didn't press for answers. She didn't ask who the missing girl was, or what had happened to break her daughter so completely. Hearing the grief radiating from the passenger seat, Katie knew that any questions would only push Azzi over the edge. So, she just let her cry, the quiet hum of the heater and the soft, rhythmic clicking of the turn signals the only sounds accompanying Azzi's heartbreak.
By the time the car finally pulled into their familiar driveway, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. The neighborhood was dead silent, frosted over with a thin layer of late-autumn chill.
Katie killed the engine, got out, and gently opened the passenger door. Azzi was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that she could barely stand. Her limbs felt like jello. Katie grabbed the suitcases from the trunk with one hand and wrapped her other arm securely around Azzi’s waist, guiding her up the front steps and into the quiet warmth of the house.
They walked up the stairs to Azzi's bedroom. The room was exactly as she had left it; safe, familiar, and still.
Katie dropped the bags by the closet and turned down the blankets on the bed. She helped Azzi slip off her shoes and gently guided her onto the mattress. As Azzi curled onto her side, pulling her knees tight to her chest, Katie pulled the thick comforter up over her trembling shoulders, tucking her in securely.
For a moment, Katie just stood by the edge of the bed, looking down at her daughter. Azzi looked so incredibly young in the dim light, her eyelashes still wet, her face pale and spent.
Katie reached down, gently smoothing a stray curl away from Azzi's forehead.
"We’ll talk about what happened in the morning," Katie whispered, her voice soft and entirely devoid of judgment. "Just try to sleep now. I'm right down the hall."
She gave Azzi's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, turned off the bedside lamp, and quietly stepped out, closing the door behind her to let the quiet safety of home wrap around her broken daughter.
only a very specific and niche group of people will get this and understand but in another life i see paige as ethel lenora and azzi as janie or willoughby not the other way around like im being serious i will post a mood board later on today after this post so yall get my visual lol
ft. Gabby Williams, Veronica Burton, and Janelle Salaün
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: Profanity
A/N: Sorry if the text thread gets too long (I got carried away...I had too much fun writing it) Send me your thoughts! Enjoyyyy 🫶
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi Fudd wanted nothing more than a clean slate; a new opportunity. To spread her...purple wings.
The exciting trade created more commotion than just ESPN headlines, spreading...internally?
The Golden State Valkyries PR Manager, Paige Bueckers, had long been obsessed with the girl before the trade had even occurred. It takes all of her energy + a little help in Ballhalla to make Azzi even bat an eye(lash).
Azzi had always been reserved, thoughtful, and rather nonchalant.
And Paige was…um…but she forms a plan.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Gabs 🥂:
have u talked to her again
Miss Nonchalant:
who
Gabs 🥂:
stop it
paige
Miss Nonchalant:
no
stop bothering me
i’m busy
Gabs 🥂:
i literally saw u walk upstairs
Miss Nonchalant:
cuz i’m gonna go workout
Gabs 🥂:
go to her office first
Miss Nonchalant:
no
Gabs 🥂:
UGH
fine whatever
Azzi rolled her eyes at her phone, turning it off and tossing it into her locker. She stretched in the locker room before heading out with a towel to the gym.
She was starting to like her life in the bay. She'd lived almost all of her life in New York and found the change of scenery rather pleasant. She’d gone on a few outings with Gabby in the past few days, and she had fallen in love with the West Coast. Not with Paige. Of course.
Though Paige was kind of…always on Azzi’s mind. Not in a weird way, though. Azzi honestly didn’t even understand why she'd catch herself practically daydreaming about the blonde. She didn’t like Paige. She doesn’t like Paige.
It was just something that her new teammates would tease her about during practice (and outside of it)…that’s it. So it was completely normal for her to be thinking about Paige when she was out thrifting with Gabby. To be thinking about Paige when she was out hiking with Gabby. To be thinking about Paige when she was out…okay, maybe she needed to stop thinking about Paige. And hang out with more people.
Even now, as Azzi made her way up to the third floor, slinging the towel over her shoulder, her mind was completely occupied with thoughts of the blonde.
They weren’t any explicit thoughts or anything. She wasn’t even admiring Paige (which she wouldn’t do, anyway, because she's not into Paige). She was just fascinated by how the girl acted around her. At least, that's what she told herself.
Azzi had only interacted with her a total of three times, blessedly not having to do media again after their awkward conversation that had ended with Paige’s family...stuff, but literally everything Gabby had told her about Paige’s mannerisms had held true. She really did seem to be a nervous person in general. Especially around Azzi.
She knew that Paige had to be attracted to her on some level, and that Gabby couldn't have just made that shit up, given Paige’s body language and…reactions?
Am I really her type? I know Gabby said she had been fawning over me, which I kinda get now- but like, does she really like me? She’s not ugly…I like her style. Does she do relationships? Am I even ready for a new relationship?
Thoughts of her ex-girlfriend filled her mind, souring the sweet thoughts of ‘what could be’ with Paige.
Azzi had done a pretty good job of staying present the last few days on the West Coast, instead of brooding over ‘what had happened’ and ‘what could’ve been’ in New York, and she intended to keep it that way. She shoved the thoughts out of her mind, literally shaking her head, as she opened the door to the gym.
She hung her towel on one of the racks before pulling out a bench. She was hitting chest today, so she’d need…
Dumbbells are over here.
She grabbed a set of 45-lb dumbbells and set them down on either side of the bench. She then adjusted the bench's incline, bringing it all the way down before sitting down and swinging a leg over the bench.
Four sets of eight. Not too bad.
She stretched her wrists out and grabbed the weights, resting them on her thighs first before fully lying down. She brought them up to be level with her chest and began her reps.
One-
Two-
Three-
Four-
Five-
Mmph-
Six-
The door to the gym opened, and Azzi glanced over to see who it was, mid-rep. At the sight, she felt her arms slacken and almost dropped the weights before sitting up with a grunt, settling them on her thighs again.
“Paige?”
“Oh, hey there, um, Fudd.” Well, Paige clearly wasn’t expecting to see her either. Her face had turned her classic shade of tomato-red, and she started playing with her hands, eyes darting around the room as the door closed with a click behind her.
Ugh.
Azzi was a little annoyed that her set had been interrupted, but her lips curved into a smirk, an idea popping into her head.
She set the weights down on the ground and swung a leg over the bench to face Paige. She could definitely…put what Gabby had said to the test. See if she was really interested.
She moved her weight forward, resting her elbows on her thighs, keeping her head down while peering up into Paige’s eyes. She breathed a little harder than strictly necessary after not even completing her first set. “What’s up?”
“I- um,” Paige visibly swallowed before continuing, “Sorry, I was looking for Miela-”
“Mm, Miela’s not here. Just me.” Azzi said, shrugging.
“Yeah, um, I see that. I’ll just- I’ll head out, then-”
“Wait…how’re you doing?” She cringed a little, internally, at just how rusty she was at this, but kept her expression flat. Bruh. Am I testing if I can be an idiot? Well, I passed-
Paige paused, hand gripping the door handle by her side. “Oh, uh, fine, I guess? Or, like, good, actually. Yeah, good.” She flushed an even deeper red, her grip visibly tightening as veins began to stand out across the back of her hand.
Oh- her hands are…
“Um, how’re you?”
Azzi blinked, refocusing her attention onto Paige’s face. “‘m doing fine too. Just getting a workout in before tomorrow’s game.”
“Cool cool cool. I’ll just head out, then-”
“Do we have media tomorrow?” Azzi stood abruptly, stretching her legs out even though she'd only been on the bench for two minutes tops. That’s a solid question, right?
“Uh, yeah? Two athletes always do media after games-”
“I mean me, Paige.” She let out a laugh, smiling and taking a few steps towards her. “Do I have media tomorrow?”
“Oh- um, I dunno, probably? I mean, I get to choose the players who do media, so like, maybe? Do you want to? I can put your name down-”
Hmm, she’s definitely not ugly. Her brain supplied her, unhelpfully, as she paused a few feet away from Paige.
She’s…objectively attractive. I know we keep teasing her about her blushing all the time, but…it is kinda endearing. She’s honestly kinda…cute. And her eyes? They’re kinda pretty…
She wouldn’t really mind seeing what Paige was about.
“No, no, I was just asking. Wait, you control who does media?” Azzi tilted her head, placing her hands on her hips. She knew full well that Gabby had already told her she does, but Paige didn’t need to know that.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Paige straightened up a bit, though her hand remained flexed around the door handle. “I dunno, Azzi, it kinda sounds like you wanna do media tomorrow.”
Azzi’s mouth upturned in surprise. She’s got jokes… “Mm, I’ll pass. Actually, can you make Gabby do it? She’s been annoying as fuck, lately.”
Paige laughed, “I mean, yeah, sure. For you, I would.”
Oh! “Wow, so smooth, Paige.” Azzi pursed her lips, hands remaining on her hips.
“No, wait- like-”
Azzi laughed, stepping even closer. They were only a foot apart now, and Paige had started shrinking against the door. “Would you? For me?”
Paige broke their heated eye contact, looking over at the mirror on her left. It took her a moment to speak up. “I- yeah-”
Azzi lifted her hand up to Paige’s chin, tilting her face back toward her, and spoke in a low, almost sultry voice, “Thank you, Paige.” Oh my god, was that too much?
“Um-”
Azzi giggled and let her hand fall, stepping back. That was fine, right? She turned and walked back to her bench as if nothing had happened, though she blinked a few times to steady herself. She grabbed the weights before sitting down again and cleared her throat before asking as casually as she could, “You’ll be at the game, too, right?” as she lay back on the bench, heart racing.
“I…will be there, yes.” Paige nodded, swallowing. “...will you?”
“At the game? Well, yeah. I’ll definitely be there, Paige.” Azzi briefly studied her face with a smile before starting a new set. “See you there.”
“Oh, yeah. Uh, bye, Azzi.”
She heard the door open and close again.
That was…satisfying.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi sank deeper into the cold tub with a shiver. She nearly dropped her arms in beside her before thinking better of it and choosing to grasp the edges of the tub to prevent her torso from slipping further in (like last time). She hated ice baths. I mean, who doesn't?
She'd remembered to bring her phone with her, learning from the disaster that was last time, which had been the longest 15 minutes of her life (after she'd not-embarrassingly slipped and dunked her whole head in). She grabbed it with one hand and started scrolling through her notifications, pausing at one that caught her eye.
You were added to the group chat: “Paigey’s down bad”: (10 unread messages)
Azzi narrowed her eyes and clicked on it, sensing it was Gabby who was probably up to no good. And she was right. It was a group chat with Gabby, Janelle, and…Veronica.
Paigey’s down bad
Frenchie 1: ok let’s conspire
Ja: let’s
VB: So how’re we getting them together?
Azzi rolled her eyes, scrolling further.
VB: Are we locking them in the gym or smth?
Frenchie 1: nah azzi would literally find some way to get outta there
Azzi snorted at the irony.
Frenchie 1: we just gotta keep talking to her abt it
Ja: I’m adding her
Frenchie 1: NONO WAIT
Ja added Fudd
Frenchie 1: oh i thought u meant paige
VB: Stupiddd
Ja: agreed
Fudd: wtf is this
Fudd: what is this name
Frenchie 1: you gotta get with blondie
Ja: agreed
Fudd: single life is good leave me alone
Frenchie 1: u literally cried at the bar the other night cuz u saw a cute couple
Frenchie 1: and u said “im so sad im never gonna find love im gonna die alone”
Fudd: ok
Fudd: so
Fudd: shut up.
VB: Didn’t you have a gf in New York?
Frenchie 1: oof don’t talk abt that
Frenchie 1: she hasn’t even told me all of what happened but just know that shit went downnn 😬
Ja: ooooh what happened 👀👀
Ja: wait my internet’s bad i swear i sent that before gabby’s
Ja: mb Azzi
VB: Oh rly? Sorry Az
Fudd: you’re fine Ja
Fudd: and you’re fine too V
Fudd: you’re not Gabby
VB: I know I am 😛
Frenchie 1: yall are so stupid
Frenchie 1: well we know paige won’t do shit abt it so azzi it’s on u
Frenchie 1: u needa make the first move
Fudd: ???
Ja: idk she might
Frenchie 1: who? Paige? what?
Frenchie 1: it’s been like 2 years and she hasn’t done anything girl
Ja: idkkk
Frenchie 1: ?
VB: ???
Fudd: what?
Ja: ignore me
Ja: you’ll see
Frenchie 1: why u being so cryptic
Ja: so are u gonna flirt with blondie, Az?
Azzi gazed at the ripples that formed in the water as she squirmed in place, adjusting the positioning of her legs. What she’d just done in the gym wasn’t really flirting, right? It was more so testing the waters with Paige. Gauging her level of interest. Not flirting. Right. Which had come back…positive?
Fudd: no
Fudd: i haven’t flirted since like college
Frenchie 1: no problem with it being Paige tho? only ur awful flirting skills? 😏😏
Fudd: and i don’t like Paige like that
Fudd: no my text just didn’t send yet idiot
VB: Oh so you have no game?
Fudd: no like
Frenchie 1: yes her game is awful lmao
Fudd: um ntm???
Frenchie 1: ur too damn nonchalant Az
Ja: agreed
VB: Wait what
VB: You’re like that around your crushes too?
Fudd: no! gabby’s exaggerating
Frenchie 1: im literally not?
Frenchie 1: did u forget abt last yr’s all star or smth
Fudd: omfg not this again
VB: What happened at all star?
Fudd: literally don’t
Ja: well u gotta tell us now
Fudd: Gabby don’t
Frenchie 1: ok so
Fudd: Gabby.
Frenchie 1: first she got blackout drunk cuz she was tryna hookup with the bartender
Frenchie 1: cuz she just kept nonchalantly sipping her drinks and ended up having like 6 cocktails before midnight
Fudd: GABBY
VB: Oh so you’re hopeless is what I’m hearing
Ja: LMAO
Fudd: i am not bro
Frenchie 1: then the night after she kept looking away from this girl at the club cuz she was tryna be her little nonchalant self
Frenchie 1: and she just thought Az was actually uninterested and left 😹
Fudd: gabby stfu
Fudd: stop
Ja: AZZI BRO 😭😭😭😭
VB: I’m literally crying
Frenchie 1: and thennnn she was tryna walk all nonchalantly outta our uber the night after that cuz she thought the bouncer was hot…
Frenchie 1: and…
Fudd: gabby istg
Fudd: stop.
Frenchie 1: she tripped over her dress and faceplanted on the sidewalk !!!
Frenchie 1: she’s like very fake nonchalant but it throws ppl off yk?
Fudd: …
VB: Azzi this is wild 😭
Ja: lmaoaoa
Ja: thank god u have us
Ja: what would u do without us
Fudd: smile more
Fudd: have more hair
Fudd: be more joyful
Frenchie 1: and you’ll have all of that when u get a new gf
Ja: a gf named Paige
VB: Yeah do u and Paige talk at all rn?
Fudd: if i entertain this convo rn will u guys delete this chat
Frenchie 1: no :))
Ja: no
VB: No
Fudd: so
Frenchie 1: just answer V, girl
Fudd: okay like barely
Ja: elaborate
Fudd: i talk to her when i have to do media but like not outside of that
Fudd: so no
Azzi wasn’t lying, necessarily, just because she left out the detail that they had just interacted in the gym. Well, that’s what she told herself, at least. She couldn't think of an outright answer as to why she wasn't telling them about it, though.
VB: Patheticcc
Ja: agreed
Frenchie 1: i also agree
Fudd: im literally not into her?
Fudd: why is it pathetic? 💀
Frenchie 1: u were literally blushing earlier stop lying
Fudd: bro. i told u it was just hot in there.
Ja: hot my ass
Frenchie 1: your ass is NOT hot
Frenchie 1: but yeah cut it out Az we know she’s ur type n everything just give it a shot
Ja: bruh
Fudd: if i talk to her tomorrow
Fudd: like outside of media*
Fudd: will u all stfu
VB: No but we’ll be less annoying
Fudd: u know what?
Fudd: fine
Ja: V’s a miracle worker wow
Fudd: i’m not promising anything btw****
Frenchie 1: how come u listen to V and not me 😡
VB: Because I’m her favorite? Obv
Fudd: she’s right Gabs
Frenchie 1: i literally went to college w u???
Frenchie 1: wdym you won’t promise bruh
Fudd: V’s nicer
Fudd: cuz i don’t wanna do ts
Fudd: wait V knows abt the whole Paige thing too? why’s she in this gc in the first place???
Ja: bro i told u like everyone on the team knows abt this
Fudd: i hate yall
VB: Thank you Az ily too
Frenchie 1: Azzi take it back
Fudd: ay my timer went off im leaving
Fudd: bye bye ice bath i hate u too
Frenchie 1: Azzi bro take it back
Fudd: gotta go byeeeee
VB: 😘
Frenchie 1: 😒
Ja: bye Fudd
Frenchie 1: talk to her fr tho
Frenchie 1: u promised and we’re holding u to it
Fudd: i specifically said i don’t promise
Frenchie 1: mhm
Frenchie 1: just go get ur girl
Fudd: 🙄
Azzi stood by the tub, drying herself, with a little smile on her face.
Talk to Paige tomorrow…she could do that. Maybe after the game, if she stays that long? She wasn’t actually that upset about it, contrary to her texts.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
“Paige? Oh, hi.”
Fuck my life.
The elevator doors had opened to show none other than Paige Bueckers standing inside.
It was 3 am. Azzi couldn’t think of any reason why she was also awake at this ungodly hour.
Azzi had been so nervous about her game tomorrow that she just could not fall asleep. She’d tossed and turned in bed for over an hour before irritatedly throwing off the covers, getting up, and walking out of her apartment, determined to get some fresh air.
“Hi.” Paige said rather breathlessly, gaze flicking between Azzi’s eyes. Then it dropped lower, down to her outfit.
Azzi felt a blush creep up her neck as she remembered what she had on. It was a really old set of Care Bear pajamas (that had certainly seen better days) that she’d been gifted back in college. In her defense, they were really comfy. She cleared her throat a little awkwardly, “What’re you doing up so late?”
Paige looked up, “Oh, I couldn’t really sleep. Wanted some air, y’know.”
Over the course of their last few interactions, Azzi couldn’t help but notice that Paige tended to talk with her hands quite a bit, or at least that she fidgeted with them a lot while speaking. She was wringing her hands together at the moment, too.
“Wait, same. I’m nervous for the game tomorrow. I couldn't sleep either.”
"Oh, really?"
They continued making rather awkward eye contact, both rooted to their spots.
The doors of the elevator began to close, and Paige held her arm out to prevent them from shutting. “Um, you coming?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Azzi mumbled, stepping inside. She turned to lean against the corner furthest from Paige, briefly looking her up and down while Paige was occupied with the buttons.
She was in a pair of sweats that hung low on her frame and had a dark tank on, too. Azzi could make out the outlines of her nipples peeking through the fabric, despite the low lighting of the elevator. Not that she was looking.
It’s not that hot out, bruh. Her gaze moved upwards onto Paige’s exposed shoulders before making its way down her toned arms. Hmm, she’s kinda buff. She looks…hot.
“Azzi?” Paige turned her body fully towards Azzi.
Azzi blinked rapidly. “What?” Shoot. Was she saying something-
“I was asking if you wanted to walk together, for a bit,” Paige said. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to, though. No pressure,” she added, shrugging her shoulders.
Azzi blinked a few more times before answering, her voice coming out unnaturally high. “Oh, yeah, that’s fine. I’d like that.” Bro.
“Mm,” Paige grunted in response, turning towards the door.
Azzi pretended to look away too, but snuck another glance at Paige before the elevator clamored to a stop on the main floor. The doors squeaked open, and Azzi waited for Paige to step out first.
Paige just looked over at her with a confused expression, though, and Azzi stared right back.
Paige nodded towards the door, as if to say ‘you first’. Azzi smiled a bit at the casual chivalry before taking a step forward. Right as she did, though, the doors started to close again because of how long they were taking. She made a small noise in her throat as she quickly took another step forward before glancing back. Paige simply clicked the ‘open’ button and stepped out with a grin, lightly shoving Azzi’s shoulder with her own as she made her way to the front entrance, hands now in her pockets. Azzi followed behind her, biting back a smile.
The cool night’s air engulfed them as they stepped outside. Azzi was walking a few steps behind Paige since she seemed to know where she was going.
They stayed silent for a few minutes, and Azzi found that it wasn’t really an awkward silence anymore, but more so a comfortable one, with the way the wind was blowing, some birds were chirping, and some car horns could be heard in the distance. Their neighborhood certainly wasn’t the prettiest, but its sights soothed her as they continued walking.
“Where are we going?” Azzi finally asked, falling into step beside Paige, who looked over at her.
“Just up here-” she pointed forward. “I’m taking you to my favorite spot.”
Hey, she said ‘I’m taking you’, not ‘we’re going’ or something.
She pushed the thought away, instead blurting out, “Do you come here often?” What the fuck-
“Like, outside? Or like, to my spot?” Paige looked over at her, brows furrowing.
“Yes, sorry, to your spot,” Azzi said, pointing ahead and throwing on what was hopefully a normal smile.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, yeah, kinda? I guess? I dunno, it just depends on the night, I guess,” she rambled, the all-too-familiar dusting of pink settling on her high cheekbones again.
Azzi felt her smile widen in amusement. The switchup? She’s…cute.
“Where else do you go when you can’t sleep?” Azzi asked as they started walking up a hill.
“Uhh…okay, maybe this is the only spot I go to,” Paige admitted, grinning. “It has a really pretty view, though, I promise. I think you’ll like it.”
Azzi glanced forward again as Paige said this, just as the skyline came into view atop the peak of the hill. She felt her jaw drop in surprise.
Paige was right. Actually, she might’ve even been underselling it. It was gorgeous. It had an absolutely stunning view of San Francisco. From the peaks of the city’s skyscrapers, all the way over to the Golden Gate Bridge. All of the light leaking from the city contrasted heavily with the night’s atmosphere and the tiny hill’s ambiance.
There was a small wooden bench perched atop the hill. It looked like it’d been there for ages, with the way Azzi could make out the wood being splintered at the edges, deep cracks running through the boards, as they got closer.
“Do you like it?” Paige asked quietly, eyes locked on Azzi, whose mouth still hung open as they came to a halt behind the bench.
She met Paige's gaze, glancing between the dark orbs of her pupils that were reflecting the city’s glow. She was smiling at Azzi...and definitely looked a bit nervous, too.
“No.” Azzi deadpanned, closing her mouth and looking back at the view with a poker face.
She saw Paige’s face fall in her periphery and quickly reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, continuing with a laugh, “I’m kidding. I love it, Paige. It really is so pretty up here.”
Paige was smiling again as she looked over at the skyline, too. “Wanna sit?” She gestured at the bench.
Azzi lifted her hand and rounded the bench, sitting on the right end before thinking, maybe I can test this…a little more, and scooching down much closer to the middle. She looked up at Paige, who hadn’t sat down yet.
She was glancing between Azzi and the bench and raised an eyebrow at her when she caught Azzi’s eye.
“Sit.” Azzi said, gesturing right next to her. This isn't too weird, right?
Paige gently shook her head, the stupid (adorable) smile still plastered on her face, and sat down a respectable distance away from Azzi. She looked at the city and wrung her hands together again.
Azzi glanced over at the city too, for a moment, before looking back down at the distance between them, breathing out a laugh. “Paige, what are you doing?”
“What?” Paige said quietly, staring determinedly forward.
“Why’re you sitting so far?”
Paige looked over again, searching Azzi’s eyes before scooting a tiny bit closer.
Azzi shook her head with a smile but didn't push it.
They sat in silence again for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city and the nature around them. Azzi saw Paige’s hands wring together extra tight before she abruptly threw her right arm up behind her, resting it against the back of the bench. It was essentially draped around Azzi now.
Azzi bit her cheeks to stop herself from smiling again as they both continued gazing at the city.
So slick, Paige.
Paige, in the absence of her other hand to fidget with, began scraping the wood behind Azzi with her fingernails.
“You went to Caltech?” Azzi cut through the silence, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, um, I did. How d’you know that?”
“Gabby told me a few nights ago.”
“Oh, okay. Wait, Gabby? She didn’t say anything else to you, did she?” Her voice came out scratchy at the end.
Azzi giggled before responding, “Mm, not much else, no…she did say you’re hella smart, though. Like, double majored ‘n shit, and got a minor too?”
Paige audibly exhaled, “I’m not that smart. But, yeah, I did do all that.”
Azzi laughed, looking over. “Do you like it here?”
“Like, Cali?”
“Yeah, that and working for the Valks.”
Paige chanced a glance at her, only to snap her head back when she noticed Azzi was already looking. She visibly swallowed, her Adam's apple bobbing up and down, as Azzi giggled softly again. “Yeah, I like it a lot. I've been here for a couple years. Oh, I’m, like, kinda young, I guess? But like not really- I dunno if anyone’s told you, yet-”
“Gabby did. She said you’re 23?”
Paige nodded.
Ooh, I can say-
“That’s not too young,” Azzi smirked when Paige seemed to have caught the insinuation, who had blushed again. “Gabby thought you’d lived in Cali your whole life, or something, I don’t really remember, though. We were kinda wine-drunk.”
Paige chuckled. “Wine-drunk already?” She added, “No, no, I’m not judging-” when she caught Azzi’s look of mock offense.
Azzi playfully rolled her eyes, shuffling a little closer to Paige on the bench and crossing her right leg over her left. Just casually getting closer. It's fine. It's casual. “It was a special occasion. With fancy wine. That’s how we justified it, at least.” She giggled.
Paige laughed too. “Do you like it here, Ms. Liberty Star? Is it a good-different from New York?”
“Oh, you knew what I was like at New York, huh?” Azzi teased, leaning back a little so that her upper back made contact with Paige’s arm.
She heard the scratching sounds pause behind her, as Paige seemed to scramble to find an answer.
“Paige, I know you watched me play for the Liberty.”
Paige looked mortified. “...and how do you know that?”
“Someone mentioned it...”
“I-” She started, relenting when Azzi cocked her head. “Okay, fine, I might’ve watched you play on the Libs, yeah.”
“I know, idiot. You literally told me that before I did media the other day. Talkin’ bout my fast release ‘n shit.” Azzi laughed again, watching as Paige’s cheeks reddened further.
“Oh, yeah, um-”
“You get this flustered all the time?” Azzi leaned further back as Paige looked away again, feeling her biceps flex against her back. “It’s cute.” She added quietly, looking back towards the city as well.
Don’t got game, my ass, VB.
Paige cleared her throat and spoke after a moment, “So, did you like New York?”
“Yes…and no. There were definitely a lotta ups and downs. I had a pretty successful career with the Liberty, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Well, you know that’s not what I’m asking since you also know I used to watch you play.” Paige smiled at her, eyes crinkling. “I know you’re a Liberty legend, dude. But did you, like, enjoy New York?”
Azzi allowed her gaze to sweep across Paige’s frame as she smiled again in amusement. The switchup really is crazy. And she actually does have jokes. “Oh, whatever. Yeah, I liked it for the most part. I’ve lived in New York my whole life, basically, before going to UConn, so it’s always felt like home. It got a little boring after a bit, though, for sure.”
“Mhm, I get that. Was it nice being around your family? If they live there, I mean.”
“Yeah, um, kinda.” Azzi looked away again, clasping her hands together in her lap as her fingers began absentmindedly picking at the skin beside her thumbnail. “...my dad and I don’t really have the best relationship anymore, to be honest, so I’m kinda glad to be away from that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Paige said quietly, looking forward again, too. “Is that why you left the Liberty?”
Azzi let out a long, drawn-out sigh, counting some of the skyscrapers she could see in her head before turning her head and answering, “No, I came here cuz of the players, y’know? Like, I wanted to play with the amazing athletes here. There isn’t really another set like them-”
“Yeah, cuz Stewie’s subpar. I know you were bullshitting in the press conference, Azzi.” Paige was smirking at her now.
Well, okay, Azzi really had clocked her own shit earlier about it being an obvious lie.
“Well, like, Gabby’s good…” Her voice trailed away at Paige’s expression. “Alright, maybe it wasn’t just cuz of the players.”
The scratching sound picked up again, behind Azzi. “So why’d you really join the Valks? If you wanna say, of course. I’m sorry that one reporter was being an asshole-”
Azzi studied Paige’s features for a moment.
The sharp outline of her nose, her high cheekbones, her messy bun, her cute little purple glasses…she hardly knew Paige at all, but she felt compelled to just tell her everything, for some reason. More than she had even told Gabby about the whole situation. Paige just seemed like a chill person. Laid back. Someone you could…trust.
Paige’s gaze remained transfixed on the skyline. Her eyes were glowing, her features sculpted in the moonlight…
Azzi looked away again to focus on her breathing.
Just say it. You can do it.
“It was cuz of my ex.”
Paige noticeably froze, her body going rigid.
Azzi didn’t want to tell her the whole story. At least not right now. But she felt compelled to continue, “She kinda…ruined my life. I had to get away from all that, y’know?”
She didn’t look at Paige. Couldn’t. She felt her eyes begin to water. It had been such a sensitive subject for her to talk to even her therapist about, and tonight was no different. She sniffled.
Azzi heard some rustling beside her before feeling Paige’s thigh press up against hers. The arm Paige had slung across the back of the bench brushed up against her back, and she cupped her hand around Azzi's shoulder, her fingernails beginning to trace light patterns through Azzi's pajama sleeve.
Azzi felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at the small gesture. Then also some guilt at the thought that she might be moving on too quickly. Fuck- what am I doing?
“We don’t need to talk about it.” Came Paige’s low, reassuring voice, though, squeezing her shoulder once before continuing her gentle ministrations down her arm.
Azzi exhaled at this, tilting her head back a bit to contain her tears.
Come on, it’s fine. You don’t owe your ex anything, remember? You can move on whenever it feels right to you.
Azzi took a deep breath before abruptly dropping her head against Paige’s shoulder, sighing softly against her warm skin. "Thank you, Paige." She whispered, her lips ghosting the blonde's collarbone.
Paige’s fingers stilled, and Azzi felt goosebumps erupt on her bare shoulder, under her cheek. But after a moment, she continued to lazily scratch up and down Azzi’s arm. Azzi felt her heart rate increase its pace as she squeezed her hands together in her lap, suddenly unsure if she was being too…forward. And, honestly, she didn’t even know what she was doing in the first place.
She was about to lift her head when Paige let out a deep, unmistakably content sigh and dropped her head against Azzi's.
Oh.
They were both silently gazing at the city again, eyes twinkling. Azzi could feel the slow rise and fall of Paige’s chest beneath her, and could hear her gentle exhales above her head, too. It grounded her.
They sat like that for a few more minutes, tangled together, the cool night air continuing to envelop them as Azzi’s breathing eventually slowed to match Paige's, her nerves flowing away.
She yawned, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she slowly blinked her heavy eyelids, and Paige whispered, “We should head back soon.”
“Mmm,” Azzi grumbled, nuzzling her head deeper into Paige’s shoulder. The blonde's breath audibly hitched at this, and she drew her head back up, making Azzi giggle again.
She lifted her head to look over at Paige, who, surprise surprise, was beet-red. “Yeah, it’s getting late, I guess.”
Paige's eyes were shining, small specks of city light caught in her heavily dilated pupils. It was so dark now that Azzi could barely make out the soft pinkness of her lips, the wisps of her long eyelashes...
She's so pretty in the moonlight.
They made their way back to their apartments in complete silence. Comfortable silence.
She’s…really sweet.
It was the last thought Azzi remembered having before drifting off to sleep, feeling the phantom touch of Paige’s fingers tracing up and down her arm.
𑣲 pairing paigebueckers!uconn!dealer x azzifudd!uconn
𑣲 summary trust begins to unravel, old loyalties are tested, and one decision will leave nothing the same.
𑣲 WARNINGS paige sells drugs. kissing. non-sexual nudity. death mentions. weed mentions/description of drugs. crying. omniscient. a few cannot be mentioned for the plots sake but prepare yourself.
𑣲 AUTHORS NOTE this was such a hard decision. i swear i’ve tried and thought all of the endings you could think of but i feel like only one in specific was it for me to write and feel. with that being said, i hope you guys enjoy?
𑣲 WORD COUNT 13.0K
• • •
lover girl
when will you be back? 11:23PM
Paige Bueckers lifted her phone from the feeling of the repeated vibration against her leg whilst she sat slumped in her seat, both legs manspreaded comfortably in front of her as her eyes slowly blinked attempting to use any willpower she has left to recollect herself enough to type up a response. The girl felt so out of her body, the three pearled blunts that sat in her system was swallowing her whole seeing as they had been rolling woods instead of anything pre-rolled. It made her high quicker and soon as it did, she was fucked from then on. Paige normally didn’t smoke anything outside of pre-rolls or the occasional joints that Dre always had but they were rolling celebratory woods tonight, thick blunts that regardless she took no matter what it was rolled with.
The drinks too, it was so many of them and she didn’t give a fuck what it was before she tossed it backwards. The music inside of one of the many warehouses they had, it was furnished with slight seats and had been a bit further out than the last one. Dre insisted that she came to the small get together they were having even though she felt like he just wanted an excuse to get her drunk, she hated to come here but any other choice possibly would’ve resulted into something worse. Simon was getting real strict with her whenever she made short efforts to pull away—she wouldn’t answer her phone much, she’s tried to slow down on the life as a whole yet none of them was having that shit. The space was humid from all the bodies moving around her; liquor being spilled from cups, blunts being passed every which way.
Things have been different though, Halloween had been days ago making today a Tuesday night. Paige still tried to see Azzi as much as she could, squeezing in time with her whenever she was on campus plus making it to her other classes on time within her good graces.
The new schedule she was adapting to was making sure that she was there for everyone including the lifestyle that wouldn’t do anything but break her, here she was anyway. Simon once again had her doing runs to bigger offices, she’s sold at least over five totes now and was marking up close to ten thousand just off bringing drugs to administrative office workers. It’s what she had to do to be free, she figured that the more she impressed him then he would go easy and let her go, the only thing that she wants is to be done by the end of it.
Dre refused to tell her as to what the party was for, he just told her to be there so there she was. It’d been a ongoing five minutes by the time she realized that she had just been staring at the text in front of her rather than saying anything back, her mind was so fried, she wanted to move but she felt so weak. It was the exact reason why she never smoked woods, it messed with her head making her eyes shut briefly, she even leaned up straight as she ran a hand down her face. “Aye.” Her head came up, lifting her head high to see Dre handing her another blunt but she shook her head, pushing his wrist away. “Damn, already? You not even gone take a shot?” Dre pried like she already hadn’t been drinking this entire time, ready to pour her whatever she wanted.
“I’m straight.” Paige stood, her hair being left out tonight and her outfit being as simple as comfortable basketball shorts with a lilac purple baggy hoodie on. A crisped white tee beneath it, she straightened out the hood behind her as she blew out a breath. “I’m out.” It’s been two hours around the clock of her being here, she wasn’t taking no for an answer regardless but it definitely eased her mind when he slapped her hand in return just to pull her in for a brief side hug. Paige didn’t say shit and neither did Dre but he held her close for a few more seconds than normal before releasing her; she stepped back, spinning just to stumble her way past people so that she could finally leave.
The noise drowned out when she stepped outside completely, she inhaled and exhaled that outside air happy to finally be able to breathe without inhaling smoke into her lungs. The blonde shook her head whilst her ponytail flicked side to side behind her, her eyes blinking rapidly hoping to knock this feeling out of her system. Paige didn’t stand there for long though, she needed to get back to campus before she lost it. The blonde already being aware of the struggle it’s going to take her but the cold air sobered her up enough to walk in a straight line being sure to stay out of to much light, she kept her hands in her pockets with soft stumbles as she walked. She continuously inhaled and exhaled feeling so short of breath—she could only reach an alleyway before she decided that she needed a break, she leaned against the brick wall so she could bring both her hands to her face. “Fuck.” Paige groaned, the feeling close to bringing her to tears as she dragged both hands down her smooth face.
Her migraine started to pulse inside her head, the pain of it making her sink down to the ground even with no light outside she felt like everything was making them so sensitive. She brought her hands to her hair, lifting her fingertips to her scalp as she squeezed her eyes shut.
The blonde felt so out of breath. She brought those same hands to her knees as she tried to catch the breath that seemed to continuously slip away from her, the alcohol making her hot besides the crisped air that Storrs blew in her face.
The vibration of her phone caught her attention again making her dig inside of her pocket so that she could pull it out in all expectation of seeing another text from Azzi, yet, when she seen the name she wished it was her. Her mother’s name flashed across her iPhone for an incoming call; her eyebrows frowned, she even tried to rub her eyes in hopes she was looking at the shit all wrong. It was going on midnight, she had no clue why her mother was up so late but she tried to sober herself up quick as she shook her head again. Three deep inhales and exhales before she swiped that lime green option over to pick up the call, she put it up to her ear with her other hand rubbing her temple. “Hello?” Her voice was small, she hadn’t even spoken much at the party making her clear her throat instantly as she listened to her mother laugh before she said something. “Oh wow, I thought you’d be sleep.” She dragged her hand down her face again, shaking her head as if she could see her.
“Nah, I’m—I’m up.” She said simply, the hand coming to her opposite arm as she held it.
Her mother, Amy only hummed, she honestly got the habit from her mother everytime she did it. “How are you? I haven’t spoken to you in weeks it feels like, what have you been up to?” It was so loud over there, it was crazy how much of a comfort it was bringing her just at hearing the familiar noises from her home. The migraine going to a minimal ache, the pain itself dispersing from her mind as she spoke to her.
The blonde was eyeing the shoes on her feet, her pink holding her phone by the speakers. “I’m good ma, just been busy with finals and stuff. I been helping my friend too with her film so I’ve had my hands full.” Amy seemed excited at the sound of that. “Film? Like a actual short film? Would I be able to see it?”
“I can ask her—see if that’s okay.”
“Okay good because I’d love to see it, I really would. What about Halloween, did you have a good one? You won’t believe how late Drew had me up, he made us organize all of his candy soon as we got home.” Paige lips curled upwards at that, the bones in her cheeks full. “I’m happy he had fun, that candy gone last him till Thanksgiving. Mines was okay though, I didn’t even dress up but I had fun.” She spoke honestly.
“Speaking of Thanksgiving, that’s one of the reasons why I called—do you think you’re making it?” Amy questioned, her voice still so hopeful. “I’ll try. If not for Thanksgiving then definitely for Christmas, just depends on how things go.”
There was a small shuffle in the background. “Okay, just let me know. You okay though sweetie, you sound tired?” Paige cleared her throat again. “Mmhm, I’m fine. I’m a little tired but I’m good, I might head—,” Amy’s voices picked up,
“Wait—wait before you do, Drew has been asking about you all day, he refuses to go to bed without saying hi.” Paige went to protest, she knew her brother would have her on the line for an ongoing fifteen minutes, she felt way too gone to even allow the conversation to go on. “Wait—mom,” By the time she even got the words out she was already gone just to hear her brothers high-pitched voice screeching into the phone; that same excitement he always carried with him wherever he went, she could envision her brother jumping up and down in her head now.
“Hi Paigey!” His excitement made her heart melt though, he was always happy to talk to her making her head rise just to slowly tip backgrounds and rest against the brown bricks behind her.
Paige blinked. “Hi Drew.” The smile on her face grew then before she could even stop it. “I got a A on my spelling test, I’m getting so much better! I wish you could see, I’ll have mommy send you a picture!” He was talking so fast making her eyes briefly close in hopes to focus on the words flying out of his mouth, he had so much energy.
“I’m so proud of you.” Paige got out like a weighted sentence.
Drew’s voice came out again. “You said if I get a A, you’ll come see it. Are you still coming Paigey?” Paige was silent, her mind trying to catch up to whenever she said that. “Did you forget?” Drew questioned, his voice going soft with concern.
“No, no of course not. I just-my brain has been everywhere, ask mama I’ve been so busy. I’m coming home soon though I promise, I can’t wait to see it.”
“When are you coming?”
“Soon.” Paige finalized simply. “You always say soon, I miss you.” Her brother was breaking her, hearing him say that made her eyes slowly shut allowing her head to play it on repeat.
“I miss you too, bug.” The nickname coming out with a slight crack to it, she felt her heart break in the middle of an abandoned alleyway. “When you do come home? Can we watch all the Harry Potter movies again? Mom never likes to watch them with me, she says that they’re boring.”
Paige smirked past her sadness. “You know mom doesn’t get them like we do, I’ll love to watch it with you.”
“Promise?” Paige laughed, her hand coming to her hair. “I promise.”
She could hear the smile laced in Drew’s voice over the heated phone that was pressed to her cheek. “Okay, goodnight Paigey.” After Paige had returned the same sentence to him was when she heard that same shuffle from earlier, she then heard his footsteps thudding away from the phone just for her mothers laughing voice picking up next. “I don’t know what you just agreed to, but that boy has been talking about you all week and it’s only Tuesday.”
Paige leaned back comfortably against the brick wall again hoping to stop herself from falling over. “I’m glad.” She spoke, her feet keeping her upright.
“You know,” Her voice returned to that same concern from earlier. “You should come home soon. How about this weekend? I can book your flight right now, you sound so tired honey. You should relax, we’re always waiting for you.”
As much as she wanted to leave Storrs, she knew she couldn’t pull a stunt like that right now not when they needed her here the most. There wasn’t any bad blood mixed within the relationship with her family, it was just hard to depend on people when she’s already been through so much alone. It was never intentional, when her biological mother and father had gotten a divorce that was when Amy decided to finally move on. By the time the girl was a freshmen and college, they had already been through so many homes making her find somewhere she could belong. The only really good thing that came from it had to be Drew; that boy was her entire heart in human form, she missed the sound of his voice already.
“I’ve just been working on stuff and lose track of time. It’s nothing serious and I’ve been having more work to do since I graduate soon, I’m good.”
Amy sighed into the mic. “I know. I just want you to know college doesn’t have to be forever, you’re allowed to take breaks.” Paige agreed with a small murmur.
“And remember Paige, if there is anything wrong, if you need anything from me? You can always reach out to me, you can ask me or tell me anything.” Paige lips had a slight part to it at that, a shaky breath coming out in replacement of any words. The blonde almost allowed the truth to bypass her lips, she almost admitted how she hadn’t really slept in days or how she had been drinking and smoking herself numb entirely to fit into a world that her mother would never allow. That she was selling drugs that was not only giving her so much damn money but was surely ruining her or that she couldn’t walk in the daylight around campus cause people was watching her.
Or, how scared she was for her future.
Instead, the blonde forced a smile that she couldn’t even feel. “I’m okay ma.” She lied smoothly enough.
The silence was small yet so loud. “I know you are.”
“Love you.” She added, in hopes that she disregarded all of her worries with the two words. “I love you too sweetheart, we all do. Talk to me soon.” The call had ended just then after that just for Paige to lower her phone and stare at the reflection that was in front of her on the black screen, she didn’t even know herself, she was a stranger with her lowed eyes and frizzed hair. Few beats after that was when she lifted her hand first to help her stand to her feet from the wall, making her way back down to the sidewalk so that she could go to campus to her one true antidote.
It was a slight stumble to her walk but the blonde knew better than to be flopping around the street just in case for any lurkers, the walk had been longer seeing as driving to the warehouse from campus was a slight five minute drive. The walk lasted a silent ten minutes and when she seen the campus lights from the distance, it only made her pick up her pace just to shiver slightly from the air picking up. She was so cold, she couldn’t wait to wrap herself within Azzi, she knew she just needed her to stop this ache from gnawing in her stomach.
It had gotten to the point where Azzi had allowed her to take her student card that gave her access to her dorm building. She walked the familiar walk to her room, she pulled her phone from her pocket seeing the left messages that she had on her lock screen. The girls eyes going over the bold time at the top of her phone, it was going on midnight and she could only hope she was awake. Paige scanned the same key making the lock unlatch and she pushed the door open—Azzi could already hear her rummaging outside of the door before she came in, she tried to fall asleep but all attempts failed when she couldn’t get into contact with Paige. It’d be hard for her to sleep, it’ll make her mind travel to a dangerous distance making her self isolate.
It’s hard to be around anyone else, it’s hard to enjoy her life for what it is being a sophomore girl in college with knowing anything could be happening to her. Azzi had her curls out tonight, they framed her face when her head lifted from the book in her lap. The golden hue from the lights above her always gave the room warm comfort feeling; it was like walking past the threshold was bringing her somewhere no one could touch her, she felt so safe here. Paige could sense the attitude that wanted to be questioned as she stared back at Azzi, bunching her basketball shorts up at the hips before she tugged them down. The silence was still so heavy, they just stalked one another whilst Azzi rested against her headboard in her own oversized tee just as Paige made steps over to her.
Paige lifted her hands, pulling at the back of her shirt first before getting it off her completely.
It’s been three days since the last Paige promised about her quitting. It’s been three days since Azzi seen that address in her phone, she didn’t even know what to do with the information. She felt like if she just popped up there, she’d be a target and the last thing she wanted to do was get hurt but she’d risk any and everything for the blonde in front of her. It made her speak up, putting her light pink bookmark in place before shutting the book in her lap. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Paige head slowly nodded, pulling back her blanket and Azzi was already scooting over that was after she leaned over to put her book on her stand.
Azzi scooted herself back instantly allowing Paige to lay next to her. “M’ just tired.” Paige spoke softly, her voice sounding drained and Azzi’s heart instantly went out to her. She allowed her brown eyes to scan over her whole, very much exhausted herself making her scoot down to level with her on her side. The brunette wrapped her arms around her instant to make Paige’s relax underneath her, she had both arms atop of her arms so all Paige could really do is lay in the warmth of her embrace. The girl couldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, this is the only place in the world where she could feel content with the person she use to be. Paige allowed her eyes to shut at the feeling of Azzi’s head on top of hers, muzzling her face deeper into her shirt to get a whiff of her natural scent and a strong detergent. Azzi didn’t say anything, she had a feeling the blonde didn’t really wanna talk so she wouldn’t make her even with her slight attitude, she was happy she was safe.
That fact alone was all that truly mattered. Azzi fingers threaded through her blonde locs, small pieces catching onto her fingertips when she pulled them throughly through her hair. She smelt just like the party itself, Azzi could smell the liquor that was practically staining her skin. It only made her head slip lower allowing her nose to fall to her hair, inhaling her deeply as she settled further into her pillow with her eyes finally being able to flutter into a beginning slumber. It was the sniffle that eventually made her eyes slowly blink back open, it was slight at first so she didn’t truly know if that’s what she heard making her stay still until she heard it again. Azzi lifted her body, moving her hands from her hair to grab onto her face and make it tip back from her neck.
Paige had allowed her to pull her head back against the pillow but she kept her eyes closed as if that could make her disappear. “Baby,” She whispered with Paige’s body falling back from her side only lifting Azzi making her straddle her comfortably making both knees bracket her hips. Paige had been fighting it this whole time, she tried to just go to sleep but next she knew, she broke. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong but don’t hide yourself from me when you’re right here.” Azzi whispered the last bit, the sentence going softer as she allowed her fingertips to wipe at her wet face. The tears spilled endlessly only slipping backwards and into her blonde hair, she couldn’t even describe why she was crying, the shallow shaky breath escaping her, each one clipping short as she hyperventilated.
Her shoulders began to tremble. The silence broke into small, uneven sniffles that she couldn’t hold back anymore. She dragged in a breath, but it hitched halfway down, making her chest tighten.
The blonde was becoming more frustrated than sad. “I’m not hiding.” Paige declared, her voice so weak coming past her lips.
Azzi hummed, picking up on her habit subtly as she continued to wipe at her face. “I’m just so tired,” Paige whispered it, they spoke to each other so softly even Azzi felt her breath as she spoke in her direction. “I don’t know how to be anyone else. What if I can’t do it?” Paige questioned herself, her eyes extra glassy every time she blinked.
“Then, I’ll wait.” The answer needed no thought behind it, her fingertip tracing her nose. Paige was quiet after that allowing her sad expression to fix on the brunette above her who still was watching her with adoring eyes as she felt her fingers press to clear her face of any left tears; her weight pressing into her was so comfortable making her hands move, rubbing gently against her soft skin. It started at her thighs before she traveled upwards just to allow her fingertips to go over the lace of the panties she wore to bed, the shirt bunching upwards with her movements making Paige tug at the back of it slightly.
Azzi knew what she wanted making her hands go to each side of her head and press herself upwards allowing her arms to go up next so that Paige could pull her shirt off her completely. Paige tossed it quick, that warm hue glowed against her now bare body and soon as the barrier was off between them, Paige moved her hands back into place at her back to pull her forward again making her be skin to skin with her.
They were close. Paige always felt like she was one with her whenever they laid like this, her arms coming back around her securely to hold her tight against her body. “You deserve someone who could give you the world whenever you ask for it. I know what it does to you when you wait up for me like this,” Azzi’s blinked, lying still on top of her as she spoke into her hair. “You tell me all the time how scared you are for something to happen, I’m scared for it too because I need you everyday. I breath you Azzi, I’ll be perfect for you one day, I swear I will.” The crying has lured her into a sleepy hue, her words were barely audible by the time she even finished her sentence but Azzi was hanging onto her words deeply. It made her head lift so that she could finally look the blonde in the face after her words to her; she was knocked out cold after her sudden confession only making Azzi watch her, allowing her eyes to go over her pretty face as she laid underneath her.
“Paige?” Azzi spoke only meeting no response from her as she felt the blondes arms loosen around her as she went into a deep sleep. She watched her, only wondering what she would dream about tonight—only wondering if she’d even have a dream at all. She wanted to go with her, even in sleep she hated when they were apart.
“You’re already perfect.” The words were followed by a soft kiss to her lips, her fingers drifting to her hair so that she could tuck both sides out of her face and behind her ears.
• • •
Azzi Fudd had been in a rush as she tried to scoop up the rest of her belongings to place into her bag so that she could finally leave her creative writing class. As much as she enjoyed the hobby itself, she was kind of over all lectures so when it was time to go, she moved with urgency. The girl shoes had really been the only color to her outfit with her favorite Asic’s gel shoes on, the cream sweet pink ones that had the pink at the bottom of the shoe. She kept her outfit simple being a black Lululemon set this time with the flared pants pulled up her thighs as well, her tote being from the brand PINK that sat cute on her shoulder. After she pushed in her chair, she was jogging down the steps so that she could go, her curly ponytail pulled to the back of her head without any type of oil or gel in her hair this Wednesday.
Azzi didn’t feel like being bothered with it making her natural hair curl around her head. It bounced behind her with her coming down the steps, she was heading straight for the door until she paused in her tracks from her name being called. Azzi turned only to see Professor Clark waving her blue folder in her direction, it made a smile spread across her face as she approached her. “I probably read over this a million times last night. I don’t know what it is, it’s very free-verse type of feel and I normally don’t like those but this?” Azzi’s face was turning a bright red. “It’s beautiful Azzi, truly. I loved it, I’m so happy you shared it with us.” The class was emptying out; their conversation happening further by her desk as Clark sat on top of it, her folder in hand.
“Thank you. I didn’t even think it was that good, you think everyone else liked it?” Azzi questioned, her voice filled with uncertainty.
“Who wouldn’t? It deserves all the recognition you could get for it, I know everyone else loved it.” Professor Clark’s compliments was making her feel so much better about it, the poem was small but she truly was treating it like it was everything and more. Azzi was so appreciative of her, she was reaching her hand at this point to take the folder from her but Professor Clark held it out of her reach suddenly. “I just have one question in peculiar,” The skeptical look on her face and in her voice had made Azzi instantly worry, her hand falling back down as she waited.
Professor Clark had her golden-brown hair pinned up today showcasing her rounded face, she even pulled her lenses off her eyes to look at Azzi directly. “It’s about her isn’t it?” The question made Azzi eyebrows raise, her mouth fighting the smirk that dared to grow. “Professor Clark!” She said in shock making her professor burst out into laughter as she even stood to stroll around the opposite side of her desk, taking a seat there as she shook her head.
“I was born at night not last night, Azzi Fudd.” Azzi didn’t even know what to say, she felt like she was caught red handed making her face warm. “Is she in trouble?” Professor Clark asked after the silence had stretched long enough, keeping her voice down but Azzi’s eyes raised instantly.
“No.” The brunette said quick enough. “It’s strictly a ambiguous layered mess, everything is fine I assure you,” Azzi felt like her explanation wouldn’t have really made sense making her stumble on the words she truly wanted to say. It would ruin everything though to just admit what was truly going on, she watched her Professor’s head tilt in question just as Clark raised her hand to hand her folder off.
“I trust you. I believe that if there was something wrong then you’ll know how to handle it. It’s a very beautiful poem, I hope you wouldn’t mind if I use it for examples for my future students?” As soon as it touched her hands she flicked it open, allowing her eyes to go over the few sentences on the paper. The bright red hundred percent that was circled at the top of it made her smile, spoken word truly is harder than some people think, it’s all about making it be you and telling the story you wanna tell. Azzi didn’t feel like she captured that feeling at first, her words very encouraging. “Of course not, I don’t mind. Thank you Professor Clark, I appreciate this.” She said lastly before they shared a few more words before she left, gently brushing past people who had been coming inside making her grip tighten on her tote.
When she finally was out of sight, she let her face return back to its neutral state just as she walked down the steps to the door.
Azzi Fudd didn’t know why the dread inside of her wouldn’t just go away. She felt different nowadays like she was counting down the days for doom, having no clue as to when it’d arrive. Azzi pushed open the door, the air greeting her instantly as her squinting eyes diverted to both Melissa and Dahlia who had been waiting for her outside. Wednesdays usually are fulfilled with meeting her friends at the caf but she told them she was exhausted and would see them later, she guessed they had other plans. “I thought I told y’all I wanted to sleep in.” Azzi said with her eyebrows raised as Dahlia shook her head, her beanie pulled over her thick hair with a Juicy Couture set on. “Not today, we’re taking you somewhere.” She confirmed just as Melissa pulled up on the side of her, shrugging a shoulder in her own fleeced zip up hoodie with matching sweats.
“I told her how much you like your space but she insisted.” Dahlia eyebrows frowned, looking over at her. “She needs us,” She said towards her before turning back to Azzi.
“Tell her you need us.” Azzi had smirked at her, shaking her head. “Why would I need y’all? I’m good D, I just needed a nap that’s all.” Dahlia was lacing her arm within hers making them walk the campus; Melissa came next on her left, holding her arm as well and even though Azzi fiend to be alone, she was now guessing it wouldn’t be so bad to be with them. She probably would’ve went to her dorm and just waited for any sign of Paige because when she woke up this morning, she was gone again. It was becoming a routine again like in the beginning, something in her felt like she was losing her.
“You can nap after, let’s get ice cream first?” Melissa offered and Azzi pressed her lips together, thinking about it with a tilt head. “Only if we go to Icey.” They both agreed and they had walked together still with laced arms the entire walk, Azzi had both of their hands in her grip next to her just as they approached the ice cream shop that was close by campus. They always loved to come here to try their new flavor of the week, they constantly switched it up and every time they came it was a promise to taste it even if it was gross. The bell dinged as they stepped inside, it was around noon so it had been a bit packed yet the workers inside always moved fluently to fulfill orders.
The three girls were looking up at the broad menu above the counter, the new flavor making Azzi’s lips frown. “Coffee flavor and strawberry with pecans? My teeth are screaming.” She said reading off the bolded font, the color of the shop bright pastels that meshed with a soothing feel. The windows allowed the small sun that was shining to light up the place, when it got dark out is when the place looked the best to Azzi because their lights always seemed brighter and they had lightbulbs going around the sign outside giving its own aesthetic. “Let’s just do mint, I have a severe peanut allergy.” Melissa announced making their heads both turn in her direction.
“Are you lying?” Dahlia asked making Melissa frown. “No…maybe?” She added making them both laugh just as the customer in front of them completed their order and the employee called for next customer. They all came up but took turns ordering, all the girls had went with something different and once they finished was when they made Dahlia pay before they were standing off next to the side waiting for their dessert. The wait wasn’t long, soon as he came back with it, they all had grabbed their small cups and pushed out the door after thanking him.
The girls started to walk back to the direction of campus, digging into the frozen treats. “How’d your spoken word turn out?” Melissa questioned, her eyes lifting from her cup.
“Really good. I got a hundred actually, Clark loves me.” Dahlia smiled at her at that, dipping her spoon back into her cup. “I told you that you had nothing to worry about, I knew it was going to come to you eventually. I also knew, that couldn’t have been what was bothering you.” They approached the picnic table bench that was close by only making Azzi slide on the bench comfortably whilst Dahlia sat on the opposite end on the bench and Melissa sat on top of the table close by Dahlia.
Azzi lifted her head to look at both of them with that just to see them watching her. “Nothings bothering me.” She said simply, scooping some more of the dessert into her mouth.
Melissa sighed, a shake of her head. “The lies you tell.” Azzi sat her cup down so that she could shrug her bag off her shoulder allowing it to lay flat on the table, full lips pursing again. “I don’t know what y’all want me to say right now.”
Dahlia intervened. “We can look at you and tell something’s bothering you. We just wanna make you aware that you have us if you need us at whatever time, wherever place, we’re here.” Dahlia said watching her curly-haired friend now on the opposite side. It was very comforting to know that they were and she was aware of everything they had been telling her, she nodded her head at their words still not having much to say as she ate her ice cream. “Can we talk about something else now?” Azzi questioned the frozen dessert melting on her tongue as flipping the spoon to drag it against it, her eyes jumping back and forth between them.
Dahlia seemed prepped with that. “I’m glad you asked, we can finally talk about what happened on Halloween night.” Azzi eyes widened suddenly, the smile stretching on her lips before she could even stop it. “Look at her, oh my fucking God, you’re smitten!”
Melissa was leaning on her hand, watching Azzi hard. “You really left with her? Where did y’all even go?” Dahlia teased. “You know exactly where she went, we are sitting in the presence of an actual pussy fairy.” Azzi laughed so hard, she covered her mouth as her head leaned backwards from her crackling.
“All it took was a,” Melissa leaned up properly so that she could mimic the same specific neck gesture Paige did to her that night. “Then, you went running! Please, tell me it’s not true, tell me you didn’t let her hit.” Dahlia was counting on it as her arms crossed before her chest, both of her friends were expecting two completely different answers making the brunette speechless again as she tried to figure out if she wanted to lie to them or not. It would be no use to lie though, they already knew she left the party with her and she only sent them a message that night to tell them that she wouldn’t be back. She knew if she would’ve told them face to face; Melissa would give a look to kill, her eyes then went to Dahlia who was so hopeful for those words to come past her lips. Azzi had smirked shyly, the memories from Halloween night finding her head.
Her brown hues fell to Melissa. “She hit.” Melissa was face palming herself with both hands whilst Dahlia was filled with excitement as she stuck her tongue out, “I told you, I told you” She sung repeatedly her chants making her dance in her seat and hips moving underneath her making her thick hair fall to her back as she moved around, her hands clapping suddenly as she wore the biggest smile.
“I’m gonna be sick.” Melissa announced, dragging both hands from her face to her stomach.
Dahlia shook her head. “I’m gonna be sick if I don’t get the details. I need blow by blow, don’t leave out a thing.” Azzi shook her head, holding her hands straight up. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“That’s how you know it’s good, you can’t even say nothing.” Azzi rolled her eyes, her laughs soft as she reached her hand over to grab onto Melissa’s arm. “Don’t be like that, you know how long I’ve known Paige. This relationship may be new but my feelings aren’t even during the film, I’ve always…felt something.” She spoke, scooting down her bench a little so that she could lay her head on her back.
“Shes special to me and if you’re my best friend, you have to see that for me too.” Azzi’s head lifted to look up at her and Melissa still held her tight expression, her grudge fixed. “Think about it Lissa if Azzi thinks she’s a good person, you never have to judge a persons judgement like Azzi’s.”
Melissa nodded her head. “I know that. I don’t give a damn about that girl, I care about Azzi and the future Azzi has. It’s nothing but trouble with Paige, she literally sells drugs? Azzi shouldn’t have to be wrapped up in whatever she has going on, her life may be over but Azzi’s isn’t.” Dahlia eyebrows pushed together. “You’ve made your point.”
Azzi though had shook her head, her body leaning up properly now. “She’s right though, she’s just worried about me and I appreciate that but nothing is going to happen to me.” It was really the only thing she could offer her, a promise that she herself sometimes wondered could be kept. She felt like nobody could understand Paige like she does, she couldn’t even feel comfortable enough to confined in her friends—it’s why she barely speaks about her at all. The questions would lead deeper and Azzi would come empty handed, her eyes peered over to the melting ice cream making her scoot over to it and pick her tote up from the table. “Thanks for the ice cream guys, I might go ahead and call it. I’ll text y’all later?” Azzi stood to stroll to the opposite side, she gave Dahlia a hug first after Dahlia made her swear to text her soon as she woke up.
After Azzi stood, she moved towards Melissa and wrapped her arms around her too. Melissa gave her a tight embrace back, going around her hips whilst Azzi had her arms around her neck. They hugged for a minute before letting go—Dahlia handed Azzi her cup and she waved bye to them before spinning around and going back to her dorm, she tossed the cup in the trash on the way up the grass as she let a sigh out from her chest. Azzi wasn’t concerned about her safety at first, she knew Paige would always protect her in case of anything like that but when Azzi picked up her phone to go to their message thread it only made her wonder who was going to protect Paige?
• • •
Dre was moving a lot. Paige never kept up with his day to day doings but lately, he’d been a little to quiet. They hadn’t been having their meetings in the car anymore since Paige was disputing bigger drugs, it came directly from the source. Paige thought she’d be getting more props from him seeing as she finally stepped up, she wasn’t really in the weed business anymore and still was getting transportation to and from the drops. It had been her and Dre together for the first time in a long time on a run—the tote Paige had over her shoulder had been filled with nothing but crystal meth, buildings were getting more specific as to which drugs they wanted. They paid extra for the inconvenience making them both leave with five stacks each; Paige knew in her head that she had bypassed that ten thousand mark, she had stuffed the wad of cash into her sweats pocket.
“You ain’t going back to that lame ass campus is you?” Dre was leading the way to his car, they weren’t parked to far just as Paige went over to the passenger. “I was, why?” Paige had a black hoodie on this time, the grey in her shirt matching the grey in her sweats as she had the hoodie halfway on. The blondes arms weren’t even in the hoodie, she slid coolly into the passenger and shut the door after.
Dre head shook, his car coming to life and he wasted no time to get out of the parking lot. “Wanna show you something, it’s close by. I’ll drop you back off after, coo?” Paige didn’t feel like being around him much longer but this had honestly been the most they’ve spoken since he picked her up this morning, she didn’t really need the conversation though but she could just tell it wasn’t ordinary for him. Paige nodded then rested back against the seat, she was up early to meet him at their spot and was utterly exhausted from the day already and it wasn’t even late afternoon. To his truth, it was pretty close by, they were only driving for five minutes it seems until he pulled up to a silver gate that had a latched locked onto it with a numbered keypad next to it. Paige didn’t recognize the place but beyond the property she eyed the small one story sitting on the deserted land, she sat up. “The code is 8930 then wait over there by the door.” Paige looked over at him at his instructions, the frown in her eyebrows creasing.
“Where the fuck we at?” She questioned, confusion in her face as she looked around the area.
Dre laughed, his hand still on the wheel. “You trust me?” Paige wanted to say no so bad but she didn’t speak after that just to look straight ahead again, her hand going to the handle so that she could push the door open. Paige slid out after, shutting it behind her as her feet crushed against the pebbled mess beneath her. She walked over towards the latch and put the code in, once she finished it instantly flashed green in her face and came undone with a loud clank of the metal. Paige licked her lips stepping backwards whilst she then came forward when the gate slid all the way over, she stepped back to allow Dre to come inside next with his car. He only kept it parked by the front making him hop out quick, she turned her head from him to look over at the building.
“Cmon, slide.” He said using the key that was attached to his car keys to push open the door. The place seemed so small on the outside but when she walked in, she allowed her eyes to bounce from all the people she weren’t even expecting to walk in on. The music coming from the speakers could be heard now too, they were having the time of their lives as they bagged drugs, a few women topless even as they strutted around in their heels as if they were their own entertainment. Dre was all the familiar, people was coming up to him to slap hands with him all the while Paige stood off to the side silently as she scoped the place out.
“Is that my baby? Oouu,” The older woman groaned as she approached Dre with open arms, she had a skimpy top on sure with barely any bottoms on as she wrapped her arms around Dre tightly. The woman pulled away allowing her eyes to trail to Paige who’d still been looking around, “You brought company, who’s this?” Her voice still held that seductive tone as her sharp stiletto nails trailed over to Paige, teasing the sharp acrylic against her chin making her lean back.
“This my guy, you gone be seeing more of her around here.” Paige frowned at that, the drive it takes to come out here wasn’t even worth it.
Besides, this wasn’t Simon’s shit. It was way to many people having fun rather than doing their jobs and if Simon had intel on it, she already knew they wouldn’t be acting like this. It was confusing her because these faces weren’t even familiar either, she felt like a stranger with these new people. “I hope so.” The woman spoke just as she strutted away, her nail catching on her shirt as she went in the opposite direction from them, Paige let her eyes trail her backside briefly before Dre made her walk turn to walk out of the entrance.
As they stepped outside, she walked a few inches from the front door to lean back on the wall against the house, her arms crossing. “You switching?” Paige questioned, looking over at Dre who was standing beside her.
“It’s some small shit. I wanted to start gathering my crew now so when we go big, we have enough money to fall back on.” Paige laughed, she couldn’t believe the shit she was hearing. “What? Whatchu’ think Simon gone be in this shit forever? I’m not a child, Ion’ have to keep working for his ass, my loyalty will forever reside with him but I’m on other shit.”
Paige shook her head. “You finna be working against him. You think he ain’t gone find out bout’ that shit?” She questioned. “Who gone tell him?” Simon questioned her, his full eyebrows frowned.
Paige was silent, he was serious as hell about this. “This shit chess not checkers, we’ll knock down whoever standing with him and make him isolated. He’ll be nobody if nobody is on his side, once he out the picture completely, it’s next on me. Only the people in that house knows about this location and now you know about it—I’m showing you this cause you his number two, I know you don’t think it but he favors you over everyone.” Paige stood there, listening to his words. “He strict with yo ass because he tryna scare you into place, if Simon heard any other seller threatening to leave the game, he would’ve killed them. I seen that shit with my own eyes, he probably wants you to have all this shit when it’s said and done.” Dre was speaking with manipulation but it was nothing but the truth, he was rambling in hopes for her loyalty.
“I don’t give a fuck about none of this shit. You know I’m tryna pull away and then gone bring me here?”
“I put you on! All that fuckin money you got, that’s shit I put you on to. I introduced you to Simon, I got you the job, I’m tryna open up more doors for you and get you somewhere different. You posed to be loyal to me, not his ass!”
“Like how loyal you was to me with telling him about Azzi? You just fuckin ratted on me weeks ago now you tryna put me on?” She spat. “I thought he was gone finally let me start going outta state. It ain’t have shit to do with you, that was strictly business.”
Paige blew out a breath, dragging her hand across the side of her face. “This some bullshit.”
Dre frowned. “I won’t work you how he did. The only thing I need you for is moving weight with me outta state, I’ll need like two maybe three days with you to go over the border. You don’t need to sell weed, I won’t be blowing yo shit up all the time, just be my partner for them drops. You can live your life with shorty, stay in school, allat’.” He was speaking her language but her arms remained crossed and caged trying to figure out at this point what was more worth it. She could give this information to Simon in hopes he’ll let her go but there was that other fifty percent chance that he only makes her come on more, in placement of his own son whose trying to ruin him.
She stood up. “Take me back.” Paige said as she bumped past him, heading over towards the car that was sitting parked in the lot.
When the duo pulled up to the campus building, the sun had been settling in Storrs. Paige didn’t let him take her all the way to campus making him stop a block away and she knew she’d walk the rest, his car rolled to stop against the curb and she should’ve just stood up and got out. Something in her though made her sit in place, her hand on the handle sure but she just couldn’t move until she spoke her mind. “You taught me loyalty is everything. Shit never gets past Simon me and you both know that first hand, I don’t give a fuck what you do but I’m not finna die with you when he finds out.” Paige glanced over at him. “Stop thinking his ass gone take it easy on you cause of these drops you doing, dude ass feels no pity on you, he’s gone take everything away from you.”
“He’s already done that. It’s what we got use to, it’s how we make money right?” She snapped, looking over at him completely. “Not me.” Dre spoke, shaking his head.
“Not no more like I said I’m on to other shit, he’s old news.” Paige frowned, she mugged him for a minute before twisting and finally getting out the car. As soon as she stepped out was when he pulled off, she only jogged at this point with the noise he left behind, she made sure to go around to make it to that backway. Paige approached the door, pulling the key from her other pocket so that she could unlock it, she stepped inside quick. The dorms social area being packed with its own students, she moved past all of them to find Azzi’s room. She hoped she was awake, she always texted her in the morning and she explained how tired she had been since she woke up.
Azzi hadn’t moved since she gotten back and changed out her set, she was laying on her side as she watched Netflix. She allowed her brown eyes to shift to her door, the blanket was all the way up to her neck before she pushed it off with Paige coming inside.
“Hi.” Paige pulled off her hoodie as she then went over to the closet to pull out the tote sitting at the bottom of it. Azzi leaned up, letting her legs hang off the bed. “Hi, I didn’t think you’d be back till late.”
Paige shook her head. “I won’t have to leave again, how was your day?” She flipped the question to her as she sat down in the chair at her desk, unzipping the tote at her feet. This was the only bag she kept her cash for, it was so many small circles of cash only fixed with a tight tanned rubber band around them to keep it in place. Each bundle was around three thousand, she leaned up straight to dig into her pocket pulling out the five she just got. Paige loved when they would pay them in bundles rather than stacks so all she had to do was toss it inside. “It was fine.” Her simple answer made her look up,
“What’s wrong?” Paige didn’t even notice her sad expression, kicking her feet out to move the bag out her way. “Cmere,” Azzi instantly moved to slide off her bed, she had showered when she got back and was only dressed in cotton pajama shorts with the matching spaghetti strap as she made a few steps across her room. Paige reached her arm out to pull her forward making her sit on her lap—Azzi missed her so much today as soon as she sat down, she had her arms wrapped around her, resting comfortably against her front as she melted in her arms. Paige turned her head to inhale her sharp coconut shampoo, keeping both arms fixed around her.
“What’s wrong?” She asked her again.
Azzi bit her lip, leaning up with her hands trailing down her front as she watched her. “Me and my friend got into it today, I think.” She said with her eyes going up, in slight thought. “About what?” Paige questioned, bringing hands to her hips.
Azzi brought her own hand to Paige’s hair, pulling it behind her ear with her new natural reflex. “You.” She said simply, bringing her thumb to her cheek next.
Paige face scrunched, instantly confused. “What about me?”
“They know I’m seeing you and my friend had a lot to say.” Paige follow up was quick. “What did she say?”
Azzi stopped speaking, stale facing her instantly from her continuous interruptions. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Keep going.” Paige said when she noticed her look, pulling her hips closer.
“It wasn’t anything that I already didn’t know, It doesn’t matter enough to repeat.” Paige watched her, she tried not to feel offended, it had to be that bad if she couldn’t repeat it. Azzi was watching her face too, she brought hands to her face then to make her look directly at her. There was nothing on this earth anyone could say to her that’ll be enough to make her leave, she wasn’t upset about that, it scared her mostly. Whatever could’ve happened didn’t matter because they’d go through whatever together, Azzi feared her friends didn’t know how serious this shit was getting so very quick.
“They don’t want you with me do they?”
Azzi shook her head, refusing to lie. “It’s not up to them though. It’s not up to anyone but me, you’re my choice.”
“What about parents?” Azzi lifted her shoulder slightly with a shrug. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I’m not a child either though, when I graduate, I have free will to go and do whatever makes me happy. If they don’t like it, truth is it’ll hurt but the truth hurts.”
Her hair still in the ponytail behind her, doey eyes blinking gently. “I’ll never make you choose.” Paige spoke her words meaningful. “You don’t have to.” Azzi followed up, leaning forward again so both arms could go around her shoulders with a deep kiss upcoming after it. Azzi was the one taking lead of it, falling for her cold lips as a whole as her head tilted clockwise with catching them perfectly. The sound of their makeout soft squelches—Azzi had her arms around her comfortably, her hands holding her elbows as she kissed back.
Azzi leaned her head back then, licking her lips as she looked over to the tote of cash sitting at their feet. “You should get a bank account.”
Paige shook her head. “These banks will need answers to all this money going into a bank account. That’s why I always have cash, he giving me so much fucking money that I don’t even know what to do with.” Azzi lifted her hand, fiddling with the diamond stud in her ear. “What do you wanna do with it?”
Paige thought about it, something sitting on her chest for days. “I wanna put it towards our future so that we’ll always have it if we need it.” Paige mumbled, eyes flicking to the tote as well just when her mind jumped to the ultamatium she was given. “Dre making his own shit, he tryna start from scratch and work his way up to take over everything.”
Azzi sat up again, the new information making her frown. “What does that mean?”
Paige sighed. “He wants to take everything for himself. He even wants me to be his partner, only when he’s making runs across the boarder he said. Other than that, he wouldn’t need me for anything else, no phone, no selling. I’m just his second witness when he goes out there, that’s it.” Azzi bit her lip, thinking to herself. “I can’t do it though. Maybe, it’s just a fucked up loyalty thing but I can’t fuck with it. I think he’s not thinking the shit through because when Simon finds out, it’s over for him and everyone involved.”
“What if you just tell him what he has planned?”
“I thought about that but it’ll only make him cling to me more. Dre is his son, he already thinks he favors me and if he finds out his actual son doing this shit? He’s gonna want me on even more, I’m not with that shit either,” Her voice trailed off that. “There’s another option.” Paige spoke up, blinking in a blank store.
Azzi watched her, waiting to hear it. “I could run.” Azzi frowned. “Run where?”
Paige licked over her lips, another soft sigh coming from her. “We could run, me and you. It doesn’t matter where because I have enough money for anywhere, we could go wherever Azzi.” She thought the idea up when Dre was speaking with her. Paige knew how serious he was with this, the trap was already the first step and Dre was slowing going to weed through Simon’s closest friends until he got what he wanted. Paige couldn’t be caught in the crossfire of this because of how bias she would be, she just wanted to drop both of they ass so they could clash with her own problems but they knew her to well. Paige figured if she just left, leaving all of them behind. She had enough money to change their names, get them an actual home paid in full and just disappear.
It was the only out for her. The only way she could live.
Azzi though, her girl was concerned. “I’ll have to leave school?”She questioned, her voice barely coming out.
Out of everything she thought, she’d never thought to just up and leave. The idea coming from her lips though would seem to easy, to just pack up everything and forget what they had here to be with each other.
Forever.
“If you tell me no, I understand.” Paige whispered, the words coming from her heart first before they slipped out her mouth. “If I’m thinking about my future, you’re always in it. I love you to much to try to leave you here too.”
Azzi’s breath catches. The first time of her saying it aloud, her eyes blinking as her words sunk into her. How bad her body needed her to function properly was mind blowing, her head dipping forward to rest her forehead against the blondes with both of her hands coming back to her cheeks. “I love you too.” It was the only thing Azzi had said back, as they both sat in the chair inhaling each other deep, the brunettes thumbs lifting to rub against her face. “So much.”
“I’m just terrified.” Azzi voiced cracked, her eyes closing when she felt her tug her closer. “Me too.”
• • •
Simon never calls meetings unless something has changed. It wasn’t just strictly dealers either, he even had the cooks and baggers sitting all in the same room. He had moved locations from his last trap, this one was more roomy with a lengthy table in the middle making everyone have somewhere to sit. Paige was sitting next to Dre and a line of cooks who was chatting next to them, Simon hadn’t even been here and they had already been waiting for over fifteen minutes. It was a Friday today, two whole days since Dre gave her the scoop and he’s been bugging her nonstop about her answer. Paige had a job to do so she couldn’t really ignore him more like delay it because she didn’t know who she could stand with.
Dre was silent again today around them per usual. He started to act different at meetings, keeping his posture tight. Paige was woken up from her sleep with this, the meeting being an idea of Simon’s just this morning. He made all of them show up at a certain time just for his ass to be late, they all waited though, knowing better than to leave.
When Simon came inside, the room fell to a respectful silence and Paige lifted her head just ready to get this shit over with. “Starting last week, we had businesses saying our drugs are no good. I’m hearing my product is weak, the same fucking product I’ve been selling over the past ten years. I have people getting sick and I’m starting to feel like someone on my team is fucking with my supply—anyone care to explain?” Simon asked, standing at the edge of the table and eyeing everyone who sat there. The cooks were even silent, nobody said a word to the new information that just came out because everybody had been doing their jobs.
“I don’t know who doing it but somebody innis’ bitch knows more than they telling me.” Still, nobody had much to say even Paige who was peering eyes around everyone else who had been trying not to make eye contact. Simon was upset, the click of his gun behind him sounding as he pulled it from its tucked state just to flick his finger making sure the safety was off. Simon sat the silver metal against the table; the clank of it hitting the wood was loud, as he then rested his hands beside it. “Moving the trap here gives me more access to everyone, no more of that small house shit where everybody around everybody. All this friendliness shit finna be cut out, cooks have their own area and baggers have their own. My dealers should only be walking round’ this bitch if I gave them the say so, if not, y’all shouldn’t be on the property.” He spit his game, tapping his finger against the table.
“Just because I don’t know who it is now, doesn’t mean I can’t find out soon. If I find out somebody in here is fucking with my money, I’m a kill you. If I find out your anywhere else other than your area, I’m a kill you. Understood?”
One of the younger runners spoke up. “Boss, I swear it ain’t me.” Simon turned his head to him, his hand moving quick but his eyes never left him just to go across his face with the butt of the gun. Everyone in the room heard it making them wince with soft noises—Paige’s eyes hardened as she watched it, she was the only one who didn’t flinch. “Do not speak while I’m speaking.” The boys nose was leaking, he tried to tilt his head back to hopefully stop it.
“If someone’s cutting the product, lacing it, skimming it, or running their own little side business? We all know what happened to Wes, I would love to make an example out of any of you too.” Dre was sitting still too, his expression remaining solid. “Starting today, every package is getting checked before it leaves this building. I’ll make whoever I want test that shit just to see who the fuck playing with me,” He spat, leaning up straight to tuck his gun back behind him securely.
“Now, get the fuck outta my face.”
• • •
1:52AM
When Paige went to bed that night, she felt something entirely wrong. Normally she just needed to be close to Azzi but she had her as tight as she could against her front as Azzi was laying the opposite way with her back to her, she had both of her arms in front of her as Paige was the big spoon to hold her close. She had been lying here the entire time unable to really sleep because of what’s sitting on her heart. Paige only wore her sports bra and shorts to bed of course whilst Azzi had a gown on with nothing underneath it, she was sleeping heavy and comfortable as her steady breaths tickled her arm.
Paige tried again, hoping to fall asleep soon enough but the sound of her phone pinging in the midst of her silent room made her head come up, she hadn’t really been shutting it off completely lately cause how unsteady she’d been feeling lately. Paige moved her arms to climb out of the bed and to the bag sitting on the floor, she picked it up instantly and unzipped it as quick as she could. Pulling the phone out the bag only made it ping again louder, she could only look over the title briefly seeing it was Simon texting her.
s
Come to the new trap 1:56AM
I think I know who fucking up my supply. 1:57AM
Paige had stared at the message on the screen, the glow lighting up her face. Paige had stood there contemplating if she wanted to do that shit tonight, she hated leaving before Azzi could even wake up. She would at least wait until she was up for a bit before she would go. It made her head lift to look over at the sleeping beauty in the bed, her body tucked comfortably. The feeling of the phone vibrating in her hands again made her look down,
s
Get here now. 1:58AM
Paige sent a message back then to agree with meet him, moving with a silent urgency so that she could return back quick enough before she woke up.
Azzi had remained sleep the entire time. After Paige had tugged on her jacket and zipped it up accordingly, she grabbed a hair tie so that she could pull all of her blonde hair back into a ponytail. She slid her feet into her shoes and grabbing the student card to her room. Paige looked back over her shoulder to Azzi who still faced the way of the wall, lying there in her dreams. Paige had exhaled before pulling the door open and leaving her room, she moved quick trying to get there.
The second the door had clicked shut behind the blonde, the brunette allowed her eyes to slowly blink open. Azzi had been up by now. The girl toeing over to her blinds so that she could peek out of them to see Paige walking down the street, as soon as she heard that door click shut, she was already up. She missed the opportunity to do it the first time and she wasn’t missing it again making her move around her room in effort to pull on her own clothes, grabbing changing her gown out for a simple shirt and she pulled her leggings up quick in fear that Paige was already to far. Azzi shoes went next, she noticed the student card was gone making her grab her key for a second option and she left. Azzi moved fast to push open the door, trying to keep quiet seeing as the night itself didn’t even offer much noise. The brunette could catch the blonde hair turning the corner making her follow paces behind her, she was steady only stopping briefly so that she could move out the way in case Paige turned around.
Paige had a feeling that it could’ve been Dre. That only meant that from this point forward she was going to become his number one. The walk itself was filled with nothing but her anxiety, she was worried sick that Dre truly tried to sabotage him like that.
Paige barely approaches before she smells the lingering smoke before she sees it. As she walked the wooded pathway, coming down the hill just to find the house just as the large whoomp echos outside and she could finally see the building engulfed in flames. The burning wood made her chest tightened, her body feeling the heat as she approached it just to hold her arm up with squinted eyes as the hue painted her orange. Paige instantly tried to round the corner, in attempts to find somewhere that wasn’t on fire yet her feet stopped abruptly underneath her seeing the flames claw at the now shattered windows. The fire roaring loudly making her slip backwards catching herself on the ground before she shot upwards again; the parking lot was filled with so many cars and Paige knew Simon’s tinted out truck whenever she seen it, she was panicking looking around the building trying to chance a scream.
Black smoke flowed into the night, towards the stars above.
“No, no no, no” Heat rolled across her face in deep waves, she constantly had to back up from how hot she was getting from standing to close. It was no way she was getting inside, she could only wonder how many of them were in there. She scanned every doorway she could, every new exit that she could remember in hopes for any sign of life from anything. It’d been nothing, just the fire in her face, the thick smoke that was traveling into the city. The police would be here soon, this was much too big of a fire to ignore.
Paige’s breathing picked up when that awful realization sat in that whoever was in there, wasn’t coming out. Paige backed away again, her hands trembling at her sides before she brought them up and to her face. Her panic rose with her hands coming to her hair, she tried to figure out anything or think of anything that would make her useful. Her phone ringing in her pocket made her flinch, she dug into it quickly and pulled it out only to see it had been Dre.
Paige picked up, putting the phone to her ear with her eyes watching the fire. “What the fuck did you do?” She questioned, pure hatred laced in her tone.
Dre was silent. “You picked your side, stick with it.” Paige shut her eyes, her head shaking.
The feeling she’d been trying to ignore all night hadn’t been paranoia. It was one of the many warnings already extended to her, and she’d arrived just a few minutes too late. “Have a nice life Paige.” After he disconnected the line after that, it only fueled her to pull the phone away from her ear and throw it with all the strength she had left. Her eyes flicked to the entrance, she could take the chance, it would cost her everything but if she didn’t try, it’ll haunt her forever. Paige stepped to the door, the roaring fire making her jump back again.
“Paige!” Azzi screamed, she was further still by the steep hill making Paige twist around at the sound of her voice. The noises of the wailing sirens was only a few seconds later, it had to be so many of them even from the area Paige had been standing in, she could see their lights beaming down the street.
“Azzi? Azzi—what the fuck?” Paige ran over to her instantly seeing her shake as she approached her. “I saw you leave. I’m sorry, I couldn’t just lay there, I’m sorry.” She apologized repeatedly.
Paige couldn’t believe her. “You shouldn’t be here.” The firetruck had made it there firstly before the police did making Paige grip onto her wrist again, pulling her towards the sidewalk behind the building so that they could both run. They took off together, their feet moving beneath them whilst Paige moved her hand from her wrist so that she could hold her hand, they kept up together as they busted a corner to an extremely dark alley but Paige didn’t stop even when Azzi bombarded her with questions. The couples frantic feet scuffed against the pavement, as the fear of something happening to Azzi tonight pushed her faster than her legs could even keep up with. They rounded another corner and Paige lifted her foot to kick open the gate making the flimsy chain snap and spring open, she pulled Azzi down the steep steps that was bringing them to a narrow alley that could lead them left or right but Paige made Azzi stand up straight at the steps.
“You’re not hurt are you?” Paige questioned her, hands jumping all around her only making Azzi shake her head. “Are you?” She questioned, breathing hard enough that her chest rises and falls quickly.
Those sirens played, they could still hear them from where they were standing and Azzi had been full blown shaking in the moment. She looked over her shoulder and up the steps just feeling like somebody had been watching them, her heart thumping with that adrenaline.
There were way too many. Paige was already trying to count them in her head without even seeing them, she could just hear them spreading through the surrounding streets to gate-keep the area. If they ran together, Paige would be doing nothing but dragging her into this and that was something she couldn’t do tonight. She couldn’t drag Azzi through it anymore making the realization of what she had to do kill her insides. The frustration was so deep into her, she wanted to scream out to the stars but instead drew her foot back to kick over the garbage tin that was next to them. The reality of it catching up to her that even if she gets away free tonight, it’ll never end, the tragedy of it all staring right back at her waiting to tell her what to do.
Azzi was eyeing her with nothing but that trust and complete fear.
Simon was dead. That building was full of drugs, there would be questions, witnesses possibly even cameras that survived the fire. Her face showing up on any footage, her name being tied within the business, people were bound to either rat or do the bid. The life she’d been trying to balance crashing before her eyes, it was officially over.
Paige’s ocean eyes lingered on her face longer than meant to, branding her face to her memory as Azzi was going down as the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her entire life. The strands of her hair that fell to her forehead, the tears that made her long lashes damp, that panic in them that she was trying so hard to hide. The painful thought settled in of this could be the last time she’ll ever see someone so beautiful, having loved someone so kind and touch someone so gentle. Paige didn’t have next week this time or even after things calmed down, this would be forever.
The realization made her blow out a breath, she stepped backwards to unzip her jacket off of her. Azzi watched her move to tug it off herself just to step upward and make Azzi wear it, she was grabbing one arm at a time and the brunette couldn’t move her eyes from watching her face. “Paige,” She spoke but the girl didn’t answer, she was on a mission as she stepped backwards to dig into her pocket and pull out her actual phone and the student card. Paige came forward again to stuff them into the jacket pocket—just as another siren wailed, sounding even closer. “What’re you doing?” Azzi questioned her frustratingly, she felt her eyes instantly water, she was scared out of her mind and the brunette had a feeling what she was doing only making her throat feel tighter.
“You have to leave.” Paige said, gripping onto both of her arms just as Azzi’s head shook. “Paige, don’t do this to me.” She spoke, instantly stepping down the step with a sob to make both her hands reach for her face and Paige allowed her to hold her, easing both her own hands up from her arms to squeeze her wrist.
“You promised me. We can leave Paige—let’s just take the money and go,” She sniffled already snot nosed, her body hiccuping suddenly. “It’s too late baby, I’m sorry. I thought I had more time, I thought I had it. I’m so so sorry baby, it’s all yours. Don’t talk to anyone, you never knew me Azzi, we were just friends from class and that’s all I was to you.” Azzi weeped feeling her legs weaken beneath her making Paige bring both her hands under her arms then to hold her up, her cries making Azzi’s head go forward as she broke down completely into her shirt.
“Keep the money in your closet. You can deposit little at a time if you really want an account—breathe for me baby, cmon’ you gotta stand up.” She sniffled herself as her eyes burned, trying to keep herself together for them both. “I need you to repeat after me so that I know you listening, okay? Look at me Azzi,” The brunette lifted her head up, her eyes all broken just like her heart. Her face read a sadness that made Paige eyebrows push together, she could hear her heart in her ears along side the sirens that wouldn’t stop.
“Break my phone before you toss it. I need you to flush whatever I left in your room, soon as you get back, do that for me okay?” Azzi couldn’t even agree with a nod making Paige trace underneath her eyes, wiping the tears there. “Repeat it to me.” Paige whispered,
“Paige, you don’t know what you doing to me,” She breathed, her face bloodshot red, her words a jumbled mess as they came out. Paige closed her eyes then, “Azzi please.” She pleaded, still close to her face.
Azzi blinked her hues, stuttering a bit before she could even get her words out. “Flush everything—I—, I’ll break your phone before I get rid of it.” Paige nodded her head when she spoke.
“I can’t let you do this by yourself, please, I’ll take the chance let’s just run please.” She begged, just when Paige didn’t bother saying much else, the blonde already knew her fate tonight. Paige watched her for only a few seconds before she kissed her lips, just to the softness of them one last time. When the kiss deepened, it wasn’t sloppy or desperate. It was slow, lingering, as though they were trying to suspend the time itself. Paige’s hand found the back of Azzi’s neck, her thumb grazing that spot in the back of her curls. Azzi held her so tight, the sirens making her head spin. Every few seconds they parted only enough to breathe before finding one another again, neither willing to be the first to let go. The kiss carried everything they couldn’t fit into words—the dreams they would never get to share anymore, the frequent mornings that will now be ending completely, the future that had slipped away before either of them was ready to say goodbye.
Paige broke it, pressing a lingering peck to her lips one last time. “Take the stairs, take the woods back to the campus. Don’t let anyone see you Azzi, okay?” Paige quickly spoke, leaning her head up a little to rub her fingers against her tears. Azzi nodded subtly, shortly sniffling. “I love you.”
Azzi shut her eyes from the sound of it, letting it take over her body within seconds. “I love you too.”
Azzi felt her eyes water again, every time she blinked the alligator tears fell. “You were the best thing to ever happen to me.” Paige added, inhaling her deep one last time before she stepped away.
Just then was when a shout echoed from the end of the alley, Paige heard them on both sides. “Police! Let me see your hands!” The man screamed making his voice reach Paige instantly and Paige only pushed Azzi upwards up the steps, making the brunette move quick to back up a few paces but she moved slow, their magnetic pull still making her want to jump into her arms but she continued backing up.
It felt like she was letting go her own heartbeat, she watched Paige at the bottom of the steps like a hawk with a broken heart. “Go.” Paige lipped, her eyes never leaving hers either.
Only then did Azzi back away, unable to look away until the distance between them became too great, leaving Paige standing alone beneath the flashing red and blue lights, she could hear them on the street just a building away from her but she ran like hell. The city blurred around her. Streetlights streaked across her vision, shadows stretching and twisting as she fought to stay upright with her legs. Every sound—the distant chatter, a car door slamming, someone yelling—made her stomach twist tighter. Her chest tightened with each breath, her cries getting caught in her throat as she wondered when will she ever see her again?
A/n: hi you guys so this is absolutely a rough one and I’m sorry for that! They will be ok!!! I love you guys, thank you for loving this story as much as I do🩷
Word count: 11k
By the middle of July, the summer heat had reached its peak. Paige finally had a rare day off from all of her jobs, and her family had convinced her to get out of the house for a day trip to a massive mall about an hour away from their house.
Walking through the crowded, air-conditioned hall between her parents and siblings, Paige felt entirely checked out. Her mind was, as always, miles away with Azzi, counting down the weeks left in the summer.
Then, her gaze drifted toward a clothing store just a few storefronts ahead.
Her heart instantly stopped dead in her chest.
Walking into the store, laughing and talking with another girl, was a familiar figure. Paige’s eyes locked onto the way she carried herself, and the unmistakable, dark curls cascading down her back. It was the back of Azzi’s head. Paige would recognize it anywhere in the world. Next to her was someone Paige immediately assumed had to be Caroline.
Panic erupted in Paige’s chest. Her hands began to shake, her adrenaline spiking so fast it made her dizzy. It couldn't be. What was Azzi doing here? Was she actually seeing her right now, or was she finally losing her mind from the exhaustion?
"Paige? Are you coming?" her mom asked, noticing her sudden halt.
Paige didn't look at her mom. Her eyes were glued to the entrance of the store where the two girls had just disappeared. She swallowed hard, her voice coming out tight and breathless.
"I—I'll be right back," Paige choked out, already taking a step backward away from her family. "I just... I saw a store I want to check out. I'll meet up with you guys in a few minutes!"
Before her parents could even question her or offer to come along, Paige turned on her heel and practically sprinted through the crowd, her heart hammering against her ribs as she pushed through the glass doors of the store.
Paige’s shoes clicked rapidly against the polished floor as she navigated the crowded clothing racks, her eyes scanning the store in a frantic blur. Her pulse was deafening in her ears.
And then, she spotted them near a display in the back.
As Paige moved closer, the girl turned slightly to look at a jacket, revealing the profile of her jawline, the familiar slope of her nose, and the exact dark eyelashes Paige had spent countless nights tracing in the dark. It was her. It was really her.
Losing all control over her feet, Paige broke into a half-run. She didn't care about the strangers around them, and she didn't care about making a scene. She closed the distance between them in a second, throwing her arms completely around Azzi’s waist from behind and burying her face right into the crook of Azzi's neck.
"Hi, baby," Paige choked out, her voice cracking with a mix of disbelief and emotion.
Azzi went completely rigid, her breath catching sharply in her throat at the touch and the sound of that specific, soft voice. For a terrifying second, she looked utterly bewildered, her hands freezing on the clothing rack.
She turned around fast in Paige’s grip, her eyes wide with shock, and the moment her gaze locked onto Paige’s face, the world completely stopped. Azzi’s jaw dropped, her expression fracturing into utter, breathless disbelief.
"Paige?" Azzi gasped, her voice barely a whisper.
Before Paige could even answer, Azzi’s shock turned into desperate reflex. She grabbed Paige, pulling her in so hard it knocked the wind right out of her. Azzi’s arms wrapped around Paige’s shoulders, burying her face deeply into Paige’s hair, holding her so tightly it felt like she was trying to fuse their bodies together.
"Oh my god, oh my god," Azzi breathed against her ear, her voice shaking violently as she squeezed her tighter, unable to comprehend that the girl she had been dreaming about for weeks was suddenly real, warm, and solid in her arms.
Azzi pulled back just enough to frame Paige’s face with both hands, before Paige could even say a word, Azzi leaned in and kissed her; hard, desperate, and full of all the longing she’d been carrying for weeks.
When they finally broke apart for air, Azzi was breathing heavily, her eyes drinking in every single detail of Paige’s face.
"How have you been? Are you okay?" Azzi asked, the words rushing out of her in a breathless panic. "I've missed you so much. I miss you every single second."
"I missed you too," Paige managed to choke out, her hands still gripping the hem of Azzi's shirt like she was afraid she'd vanish.
Azzi glanced over her shoulder at the crowded store, then looked back at Paige with determination. "Meet me back at this mall on Sunday at eleven. Right by the main entrance. We can spend the whole day together. Just you and me."
Paige's heart soared, but then reality caught up to her, and she let out a hesitant breath. "Okay... yeah, okay. I'll do it. I just have to take off work."
Azzi’s eyebrows knitted together in immediate confusion. "Take off work? You got a job? Who works on Sundays?"
"I'm working a lot right now, Az," Paige explained softly, a small, tired but proud smile touching her lips. "I'm saving up everything I can so we can move to DC together after graduation."
Azzi froze, her heart completely swelling until it felt like it might burst right out of her chest. The sheer magnitude of what Paige was doing for their future left her speechless.
Azzi pulled Paige back in, burying her fingers in Paige's hair and kissing her again, deeper and softer this time, pouring every ounce of her gratitude and love into their lips.
"I love you so much," Azzi whispered against her mouth when she finally let her go, her voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much I love you. Go back to your family before they worry, okay? Sunday at eleven. I'll see you soon, baby."
"I love you," Paige breathed back, giving her waist one last squeeze before reluctantly letting her go, her heart lighter than it had been all summer.
—
Sunday morning arrived, and Paige’s nerves were on high alert. Her parents had sent her off with the usual supportive nods, fully believing she was heading into another long shift at one of her jobs. Instead, she had called out of work for afternoon of freedom with the girl she loved.
At exactly 11:00 AM, Paige was standing near the doors of the main entrance, her pulse racing as she scanned the parking lot.
A car pulled up along the curb just a few yards away, and the passenger door clicked unlocked. Paige didn't hesitate. She ran over, slipped into the front seat, and closed the door behind her, the cool blast of the AC instantly hitting her face.
Azzi was sitting in the driver's seat, her eyes bright and intense as she looked over. But instead of turning off the engine or grabbing her purse to head inside the mall, Azzi kept her hands on the steering wheel, shifting the car back into drive.
"We're not going into the mall," Azzi said softly, a low, thick tone in her voice that sent a shiver straight down Paige's spine. "We're going to the back of my car."
Paige's breath hitched, but she didn't say a word. She simply nodded as Azzi drove them to the very back of the massive parking lot, tucked away in a quiet, isolated corner beneath the shade of a few trees.
The moment the car parked, Azzi climbed into the backseat. Paige followed right behind her, her heart hammering against her ribs. The back seats were folded down flat, there was an air mattress that was lined with a thick, plush blanket and a couple of pillows.
Before Paige could even settle in, Azzi moved forward. She crawled directly over her, shifting her weight until she was straddling Paige’s lap, pinning her comfortably against the pillows.
Azzi framed Paige’s face with both hands, her eyes scanning every inch of her features with a possessive hunger. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this," Azzi whispered.
Then, she leaned down and closed the distance.
The kiss was deep and completely consuming. Paige wrapped her arms tightly around Azzi’s waist, pulling her flush against her chest, while Azzi tangled her fingers in Paige's hair.
Between breathless, lingering kisses, Azzi pulled back just a few inches, her hands resting gently on Paige's shoulders. Her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as she looked down at Paige, her expression turning soft but intensely curious.
"Okay, wait," Azzi murmured, running a thumb over Paige’s flushed cheek. "What job are you even working right now?"
Paige let out a soft, slightly sheepish chuckle, her hands settling comfortably on Azzi's hips. "Well, I'm at a grocery store, a coffee shop, and a daycare."
Azzi’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Three? Paige, how many hours a week is that?"
"About forty-five hours a week," Paige said, a proud little smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It’s a lot, but Azzi, it's working. Right now, I already have about three thousand dollars saved up in my account. By the time the summer ends, I should have more than enough to cover our first few months of rent while we look for jobs after graduation."
Azzi just stared at her, completely stunned into silence. Her heart swelled so much it felt achey. Seeing Paige put this much effort into building the exact life and future she had dreamed of left her completely overwhelmed with gratitude.
"You’re doing all of that... for me?" Azzi whispered, her voice cracking slightly as a rush of emotion hit her. "I can't even believe you. You’re incredible."
"I told you I'd do it for us," Paige said softly, her eyes shining.
Azzi let out a breathless laugh, shifting her weight on Paige's lap as a adoring smirk suddenly replaced her emotional expression. She leaned down close, her lips brushing against Paige's ear as she teased her in a low, playful tone.
"Look at you," Azzi whispered, her hands sliding down Paige's chest. "You're such a provider, baby. It's hot."
Paige's face instantly turned a deep crimson, a gasp escaping her lips at the sudden shift in energy. Azzi laughed softly at the reaction before leaning right back down to press another kiss to Paige's lips.
Azzi shifted slightly, lowering her chest against Paige’s so they were pressed completely together from the waist up. She buried her face in the crook of Paige’s neck, wrapping her arms around her so tightly there wasn’t an inch of space between them.
Paige held her back just as fiercely, her fingers tangling into the fabric of Azzi’s shirt. They stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing each other in, listening to the synchronized hum of their heartbeats. Every few seconds, Azzi would lift her head to press soft, lingering kisses to Paige’s jaw, her cheek, and her lips, murmuring sweet praises against her skin.
"You are so perfect," Azzi whispered as she kissed the corner of Paige’s mouth.
Paige leaned into the praise, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I've been doing really good, Az. I haven't let the guilt get to me at all." She shifted her hands to cup Azzi's face, looking up into her eyes. "Literally, all I do is think about you. I sleep with a picture of you in the nightgown I bought you right under my pillow every single night. It’s the first thing I look at when I wake up."
Azzi’s heart did a violent flip in her chest. A smile broke across her face, her eyes growing shiny. "You’re so cute."
"I have some good news, too," Azzi said softly, her thumb tracing Paige's cheekbone. "I’ve actually been getting along with my parents a lot better."
Paige blinked, her eyes widening. "Really?"
"Yeah," Azzi nodded, a genuine, relaxed smile on her face. "The day we left school, I was crying so hard because I missed you, and my mom actually had my dad pull over. She climbed into the backseat and just... held me. She told me she was glad I ended up loving it at school so much. Since then she’s been trying a lot more, I know she’s still not accepting but we don’t fight like we used too, I feel like she actually sees me as her daughter again."
Hearing those words brought a rush of relief so intense it made Paige’s eyes well up with happy tears.
"I’m so happy for you," Paige choked out, a brilliant smile breaking through as she pulled Azzi down by the nape of her neck. "I was worried about you."
Azzi ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, her gaze dropping to the blankets and pillows lining the flattened back seats. A soft, slightly shy smile touched her lips.
"I actually set all of this up because... well, I hoped we could just take a nap together," Azzi admitted softly, her cheeks tinting with a faint flush. "I just wanted a few hours where I could hold you and actually sleep well."
Paige’s heart melted completely at the gesture.
"Of course, baby," Paige whispered, her eyes shining with affection. "There is nowhere else I’d rather be."
Azzi smiled, shifting her weight to climb off Paige's lap. They moved together in the cramped but cozy space, arranging the pillows so they could lay flat. Azzi settled down first, stretching her legs out, and Paige immediately slid in beside her, nesting perfectly against Azzi’s chest.
Azzi wrapped one arm securely around Paige’s waist, pulling her flush against her body, while her other hand found its familiar place in Paige’s hair, gently twirling the strands. Paige looped her arm over Azzi’s middle, burying her face into the crook of Azzi’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her.
Within minutes, the motion of Azzi’s fingers in her hair soothed Paige into a deep relaxation. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she let out a long, content sigh. Azzi rested her chin on top of Paige’s head, closing her eyes as a sense of peace washed over her.
Holding each other tight, the two girls finally drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
—
A few hours later, the dimming afternoon light filtering through the fogged car windows gently nudged them awake. Paige blinked sleepily, her face still nestled comfortably in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Azzi let out a low, satisfied hum, tightening her grip around Paige’s waist for one last, lingering squeeze before they finally forced themselves to sit up and stretch their cramped limbs.
The long nap had worked wonders, but it had also left them both completely starving.
After fixing their hair and smoothing down their wrinkled clothes, they hopped out of the back seat, locked the car, and walked hand in hand into the mall. The scent of garlic, soy sauce, and fried rice immediately guided them straight toward the food court, stopping right in front of the neon lights of the Chinese counter.
They ordered a massive combo plate to share; lo mein, orange chicken, and beef with broccoli. When they reached the register, Azzi automatically started reaching into her purse for her wallet, but Paige was faster. She smoothly slid her debit card across the counter before Azzi could even protest.
"I got it," Paige said with a bright, proud smile, tapping the card reader. "Perks of working a lot."
The cashier handed over the styrofoam container, and Azzi looked from the receipt back to Paige, an incredibly amused smirk spreading across her face.
As they walked over to an empty booth in the corner, Azzi nudged Paige’s shoulder playfully with her own, leaning in close so only Paige could hear her over the food court chatter.
"Look at you, paying for my lunch," Azzi teased. "What, are you my sugar mommy now, P?"
Paige’s cheeks instantly flared bright pink, nearly choking on her own breath as she slid into the booth. "Azzi, oh my god, shut up!" she whispered-yelled, though she couldn't hide the massive, giddy grin taking over her face.
Azzi just laughed, completely delighted by how easily she could fluster her as she snapped open a pair of chopsticks.
After wiping their plates clean, Azzi grabbed Paige by the hand.
"Come on," Azzi said, a grin spreading across her face. "Since you're paying, we have somewhere to go."
Before Paige could ask any questions, Azzi dragged her out of the food court and straight down the main walkway, stopping right in front of the brightly lit, pink and black storefront of Victoria’s Secret.
Paige’s face instantly turned red. "Azzi, wait—here?"
"Absolutely here," Azzi murmured, pulling Paige through the glass doors. "You bought me that purple one, and I think it’s time you picked out a few more for next year."
The entire time they were in the store, Azzi was shameless with her affection, completely ignoring the other shoppers and employees. She kept her arm wrapped securely around Paige's waist, pulling her flush against her side as they drifted through the rows of silk and lace. Whenever Paige paused to look at a rack, Azzi would lean down, pressing soft kisses into the crook of Paige’s neck, her hands sliding possessively down to rest on Paige’s hips.
"Az, stop, people are looking," Paige whispered, a breathless giggle escaping her lips as her face burned hotter.
"Let them look, I only get you for a few hours." Azzi hummed against her skin, completely unbothered, before pulling a silky, deep emerald green nightgown off the rack. She held it up against herself, her eyes locking onto Paige. "What do you think of this one, P? Do you want to see me in this?"
Paige swallowed hard, completely trapped by the look in Azzi’s eyes. "Yes. Definitely that one."
"Good. Find a couple more," Azzi ordered playfully before letting her go to browse the matching sets.
By the time they walked up to the cash register, Paige's arms were full of silk nightgowns in emerald, black, pink, and red. True to her word, Paige proudly handed over her debit card, her heart hammering as Azzi stood right behind her, wrapping both arms around Paige’s waist from behind and resting her chin securely on Paige's shoulder.
As soon as the receipt printed, Azzi took the shopping bag in one hand, turned Paige around by the waist, and pressed a deep, lingering kiss to her lips right in front of the counter.
"Thank you, mommy," Azzi whispered with a wicked wink just to embarrass her, making Paige hide her burning face in Azzi’s chest.
The second they stepped over the threshold of the store and back out into the mall, Paige crossed her arms tightly over her chest, puffing out her lower lip as she turned to glare at her girlfriend, though the bright pink blush still staining her cheeks completely ruined the effect.
"Okay, first of all, stop," Paige said, trying her absolute hardest to sound stern and failing miserably. "You are officially banned from saying that word. That was so embarrassing."
Azzi stopped in her tracks, holding the shopping bag in one hand while her jaw dropped in a look of exaggerated, mock innocence. "Banned? What did I even do?"
"You know exactly what you did!" Paige whispered-yelled, looking around nervously to make sure no passing shoppers were paying attention to them. "You called me... that... right in front of the cashier! I thought I was actually going to pass out and die right there on the rug."
Azzi’s lips twitched, a slow, incredibly satisfied smirk creeping across her face. She took a step closer, intentionally invading Paige's personal space.
"Oh, you mean mommy?" Azzi whispered, leaning down so her breath brushed against Paige's burning ear. She practically dragged out the syllables just to be agonizing.
"Azzi!" Paige gasped, swatting at her shoulder, her fake anger melting into a desperate, giggling mess. "Stop it! Seriously, I'm mad at you."
"You look so mad," Azzi teased, her eyes sparkling with affection as she reached out, wrapping her free hand around Paige's waist and pulling her back against her side. She pressed a sloppy, dramatic kiss to Paige’s cheek. "Be mad all you want but you clearly like the perks you get, P."
"I hate you," Paige mumbled, though she immediately let her arms unfold so she could wrap one securely around Azzi’s waist, leaning into her side as they started walking again.
"Sure you do," Azzi laughed softly, squeezing her tight.
—
The bubble of happiness Paige had been floating in all afternoon popped the exact second she stepped through the front door.
She was still smiling, her lips tingling from Azzi's kisses. She had just kicked off her shoes when a booming, furious voice shattered the quiet of the house.
"Paige Madison Bueckers!"
Paige froze, the blood instantly turning to ice in her veins. Her dad never used her full name unless something was catastrophically wrong. The rage in his voice made her stomach drop through the floor.
Her legs felt weak as she walked down the short hallway and turned into the dining room.
There, standing over the long wooden table, were both of her parents. Her mother’s face was tear-stained and pale, and her father’s face was a mottled, furious red. But it was what lay spread out on the table that made Paige's breath completely catch in her throat.
Every single thing had been dragged out from her bottom desk drawer.
All twenty pictures of her and Azzi, right next to them lay the love letters; including the one with PAIGE’S EYES ONLY boldly written across the top.
"What is this?!" her dad roared, slamming his hand down on the table, right next to the letter where Azzi detailed how much she missed Paige's lips on her skin. "What the hell is this, Paige?!"
The contrast between the beautiful, safe cocoon she had just been in with Azzi and the absolute nightmare she was suddenly standing in was too much to bear.
The tears came instantly, blinding and hot, spilling over her cheeks as her chest heaved. She took a terrified step backward, her hands trembling violently as she held them up defensively.
"Dad, please—Mom, it's not what it looks like!" Paige sobbed, her voice cracking into a desperate, choked gasp. "Please, just let me explain, it's not—it's not what you think!"
"It's exactly what it looks like!" her dad yelled back, his voice shaking the walls as her mom hid her face in her hands, refusing to even look Paige in the eye.
"Don't you dare lie to us!" her mom suddenly shrieked, her voice cracking with a raw, vicious anger that Paige had never heard before. She stepped forward, her face twisted in utter revulsion as she snatched up Azzi's fourth letter, shaking the paper aggressively in the air.
"Your father and I raised you better than this, Paige! This is sick! It is absolutely disgusting!" her mom screamed, her eyes wild with fury and disgust. "I have never in my entire life read something as vile and gross as what this girl wrote to you! Biting her skin? Wanting you in her bed? It makes me sick to my stomach to think about what you've been doing!"
The words felt like blows, tearing straight through Paige’s chest. Hearing her own mother call her love for Azzi sick and gross fractured something deep inside her.
"Mom, stop! Please, stop saying that!" Paige wailed, her hands flying to her ears as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her entire body shook, her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of the hatred radiating from the two people who were supposed to protect her. "She loves me! We love each other! Please don't say that about her!"
"Love?! That isn't love, Paige, it's a disease!" her mom yelled back, tossing the letter down onto the table like it was covered in poison, refusing to even look at her daughter's tear-streaked face.
Paige stood frozen in the center of the room, her vision completely blurred by a torrent of hot, agonizing tears, feeling the entire world she had worked so hard to build crash down around her in a matter of seconds.
"Please, please, just let me go back to school next month!" Paige begged, dropping to her knees on the dining room floor. She threw her hands out toward them, her face soaked in tears as she completely surrendered. "I'll break up with her. I'll switch roommates, I'll live in a completely different building! Whatever you want, I swear, just please let me go back!"
Her dad looked down at her, his expression hard as stone, completely unmoved by her desperation.
"Absolutely not," he said, his voice dropping into a cold, final tone that was even more terrifying than his yelling. "You are not going back to that school. And you aren't staying under this roof another night, either."
Paige's heart practically stopped beating. She looked up at him through her blurred vision, her chest heaving as a fresh wave of panic seized her. "What? Dad, please, what do you mean? Where am I supposed to go?"
Neither of them answered her. Her mom just turned her back, crossing her arms and staring out the window, completely shutting her out.
Desperate to hold onto any piece of the life she was being stripped of, Paige reached a trembling hand toward the edge of the table. "Can I—can I at least keep the pictures? Please, just let me have the photos..."
"You aren't keeping a damn thing," her dad snapped, stepping in front of the table to block her access. He pointed a rigid finger toward the stairs. "Go upstairs right now and pack a book bag. Just the essentials. We are leaving in an hour."
"Dad, please—"
"Go!" he roared.
Paige scrambled to her feet, her body shaking so violently she could barely balance. Choking on her sobs, she turned and sprinted up the stairs.
Paige slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it, her chest heaving as she stumbled toward her desk. With a desperate, trembling hand, she yanked open the bottom drawer, praying that her parents had missed something; that the rest of Azzi's letters were still hidden away.
The drawer was completely empty.
All of the unread letters, the remaining lifelines she was supposed to have for the rest of the summer, were gone. Paige let out a ragged, strangled sob, collapsing against the desk as the reality of her situation set in. They had stripped away everything.
"No, no, no..." she whimpered, forcing herself to stand up through the blinding tears. She had less than an hour.
With shaking hands, she grabbed her backpack from the closet and began throwing in her essentials; a few changes of clothes, her toothbrush, and toiletries. Every movement felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.
Suddenly, her hands froze over her jewelry dish. Resting there, was the heart locket Azzi had given her.
Panic flared in Paige's chest. If they saw it, they would take it away just like the letters. She snatched the locket up, her fingers gripping the cold metal tightly as she scanned the room for a hiding place. Hurrying over to her pile of clothes, she grabbed a thick pair of rolled-up socks. She carefully unrolled them, stuffed the locket deep into one sock, and rolled them back together.
Then, she remembered the photograph.
She reached under her pillow, her heart hammering against her ribs, and pulled out the picture of Azzi. Paige pressed her lips to the glossy paper, tears splashing onto Azzi's pictured face, before sliding it flat inside another thick pair of socks, burying it right in the middle where no one would feel it from the outside.
She stuffed the socks into the bottom of her back pack.
Paige unlocked her door and crept out into the hallway, her heart hammering against her ribs. The house was dead silent. Peering through the front window, she saw the harsh red glow of the car's taillights in the driveway; her parents were already waiting inside, engines running, eager to rid themselves of her.
Realizing she had a split-second window of opportunity, Paige practically flew down the stairs, abandoning her shoes and sprinting straight into the dining room.
The table was a mess of her exposed life, her eyes darted frantically across the wood until she spotted a picture of the two of them laughing on their dorm bed, right next to one of the opened envelopes her mother had been waving around.
Without thinking, Paige snatched the photo and stuffed the loose letter down into the main compartment of her bag, zipping it shut in one fluid, panicked motion.
She threw her shoes on, her hands shaking so badly she could barely pull them over her heels. Grabbing the backpack, she took one last, trembling breath of the house she was being exiled from, opened the front door, and walked out to face whatever punishment lay waiting in that car.
—
The silence inside the car was suffocating, broken only by the muffled, shaky sounds of Amy crying in the passenger seat. Her dad kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he drove them away from the neighborhood.
Paige leaned forward from the backseat, the backpack gripped tightly in her lap like a shield. The desperation in her chest was so suffocating she felt like she was drowning.
"Mom, please, just look at me," Paige pleaded, her voice cracking as fresh tears poured down her face. "Please let us go back home. I swear, I promise you, I'm not gay or anything like that! It was just... it was just a mistake. I was confused."
Amy just shook her head, burying her face into a tissue, her shoulders shaking violently as she wept.
"I'll break up with her once I get back to school!" Paige sobbed, her hands trembling as she reached toward the front seats. "I’ll never do anything with another girl ever again. I swear on my life! I’ll stay away from her. I just need to go home. I need to go back to school in August. My whole life is there. Please, don't do this to me!"
Her dad’s head snapped toward the rearview mirror, his eyes blazing with a terrifying, unyielding fury.
"Shut up, Paige! Just shut your mouth!" he roared, his voice bouncing off the windows. "You think you can just lie your way out of this?! You are sick, and you need to be cured of this disgusting lifestyle!"
"I'm not sick! Dad, please—"
"You are!" her mom suddenly screamed, spinning around in her seat to glare at Paige with eyes full of tears and revulsion. "You have a sickness, Paige! We don't care what promises you make right now. You think we're going to let you go back to that school just to let you slip right back into sin? Absolutely not! You need help, and we are going to make sure you get it, whether you want it or not!"
"But where are we going?!" Paige wailed, her voice shrinking into a small, terrified whimper. "Please, just tell me where you're taking me!"
"You'll find out when we get there," her dad snapped coldly, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal, completely deaf to his daughter's broken cries from the backseat.
After at least four hours of driving the car finally slowed down, turning off the empty highway and pulling up to a massive, imposing building surrounded by high concrete walls and tall iron gates.
Paige pressed her tear-stained face against the window, her heart dropping into her stomach. In the dim moonlight, the building looked exactly like a bleak, outdated mental hospital. The brick was stained and gray, the windows were barred from the outside, and a single, sterile floodlight illuminated the entrance.
"Get out," her dad ordered coldly, throwing the car into park.
Paige was trembling so badly she could barely unbuckle her seatbelt. Her parents gripped her arms, practically dragging her up the steps. The front doors clicked open, and the scent of bleach and stale air instantly hit her nose.
Waiting in the stark, fluorescent-lit lobby was a stern-looking woman dressed in scrubs, a clipboard resting in her arms.
"Welcome, Paige," the woman said, her smile entirely empty. "I'm a nurse here. We’ve been expecting you."
"Please, don't leave me here," Paige choked out, her voice reduced to a desperate, breathless whisper as the nurse took her by the arm.
The nurse led them down a long, echoing hallway with locked doors on either side. Every sob Paige let out bounced harshly off the white cinderblock walls. Finally, they stopped at a door with a small, reinforced glass window.
Inside, the room was terrifyingly barren. It looked exactly like a hospital room. There was a single twin bed bolted to the floor, a small attached bathroom, and a tiny built-in cubby.
The nurse stepped inside and dumped a bundle of fabric onto the mattress. It was multiple sets of oversized, shapeless black t-shirts and matching sweatpants.
"Change into these immediately,” she instructed, pointing to the bed. "Your parents are leaving now."
Paige spun around, her eyes wide with panic as she looked at her mother and father standing in the doorway. "Please! Don't do this, I'll be good, I promise—"
"Goodbye, Paige," her dad said, his voice completely flat. "We'll see you soon. Hopefully by then, you'll be the daughter we raised."
Her mother didn't say a word, only turning on her heel and walking down the hallway. Her dad followed, the door clicking shut behind them.
Paige collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the cold floor as she sobbed, clutching her backpack to her chest. She felt completely untethered, stripped of her freedom, her future, and her safety in a matter of hours.
"Stand up and change, Paige. We don't have all night," the nurse said, her voice sharp and unyielding as she watched Paige throw her backpack onto the floor by the bed. "You can put your bag in the cubby. We don't provide much storage here."
Paige pushed herself up. With shaking hands, she stripped out of her clothes and pulled on the scratchy, oversized black shirt and sweatpants, feeling entirely swallowed up by the fabric. She quickly kicked her backpack deep into the corner of the small cubby, her heart racing with a tiny spark of relief that they hadn't searched it; the locket, the photos, and the letter were still safe.
The nurse stepped back toward the door, pausing to look over her shoulder at Paige’s small, broken figure shivering in the center of the sterile room.
"Get comfortable, Paige. This is where you're spending the next twelve months," she said, a chilling, definitive edge to her voice. "Welcome to your new life."
The door slammed shut, and the distinct, terrifying sound of a deadbolt clicking into place echoed through the room, leaving Paige completely alone in the dark.
—
Paige crumbled. She crawled on her hands and knees across the cold floor toward the cubby, her breath coming in ragged, hyperventilating gasps.
With trembling fingers, she dragged her bag into her lap and unzipped it. The darkness made it hard to see, but she didn’t need light. She reached straight for the bottom, her hands frantic until they brushed against the thick, rolled-up socks.
She pulled them out, her chest heaving as she unrolled the first pair. Her fingers caught the cold, metallic edge of the locket. Tears spilled over her eyelashes in hot, blinding sheets as she pressed the small piece of metal tightly against her lips, weeping silently so whatever staff was around wouldn't hear her through the door.
With shaking hands, she fumbled with the clasp in the dark, her heart hammering against her ribs until she finally managed to secure it around her neck. As the weight of the locket settled against her collarbone, right over her heart, a tiny, fragile sense of warmth bloomed in her chest.
Next, she unrolled the second pair of socks, her fingers sliding over the smooth, glossy surface of the mirror selfie.
Holding the photo close to her face, she stared at the faint outline of Azzi in the dim light leaking from the hallway window. The memory from just hours ago of Azzi teasing her, kissing her, and looking at her with so much unconditional love rushed back.
Paige pressed the photograph to her lips, sobbing uncontrollably as her tears smeared against the glossy paper.
"I'm so sorry, baby," Paige choked out, her voice a broken, barely audible whisper in the dark. "I'm so sorry... I love you. I love you so much."
She pulled the picture to her chest, standing up to walk over to the bed. Clutching the photo of her girl with one hand and gripping the locket around her neck with the other, Paige cried herself to sleep.
—
The next morning, a harsh overhead light snapped on, instantly shattering the exhaustive sleep Paige had fallen into. The deadbolt clicked open, and a different staff member ordered her out of bed and down to the common room for morning orientation.
Paige kept her head down, her hand instinctively rising to clutch the heart locket hidden beneath her t-shirt.
In the sterile common room, six other girls were already seated in a circle of plastic chairs. Everyone looked exhausted, terrified, and broken. A counselor standing at the front of the room clapped her hands together with a forced, eerie cheerfulness.
"Good morning, girls," the counselor announced. "Today is day one of your journey back to purity and truth. To start our morning session, we're going to do a few icebreakers. I want each of you to stand up, state your name, and tell the group your favorite book."
The circle went in order. The first few girls gave quiet, trembling answers, mentioning various religious texts or safe novels. When it was Paige's turn, she swallowed hard, her knees shaking as she stood up from her plastic chair. All eyes turned to her.
"My name is... Paige Bueckers," she said, her voice small and tight. She cleared her throat, trying to find a shred of comfort. Thinking of home, the only thing that brought a spark of genuine warmth to her mind was the memory of late nights in her and Azzi’s room. "And my favorite book is The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo... because my girlfriend reads it to me."
The words slipped out before her brain could stop them.
The entire room went dead silent. The atmosphere grew ten times colder in a split second. Paige's breath hitched as she realized what she had just confessed in front of the counselor.
The counselor's forced smile vanished entirely, replaced by a look of disapproval. She pointed a finger toward the door of the common room.
"That is enough," the counselor barked, her voice booming off the cinderblock walls. "We do not permit the glorification of sin or the mention of those ungodly attachments in this facility."
Before Paige could even attempt to apologize or take the words back, a nurse stepped into the room, grabbing Paige tightly by the upper arm.
"Back to your room, Paige. Immediately," she hissed, pulling her out of the circle.
Paige didn't fight back as she was marched straight down the long, echoing hallway. Tears of humiliation and fear blurred her vision as a nurse who’s name tag read Nicole shoved her into the room, Paige stumbled forward, but instead of collapsing onto the bed, she spun around frantically before the heavy door could slide shut.
"Wait! Please, just wait a second," Paige begged, her hands gripping the edge of the doorframe as she stared at the nurse with wide, desperate eyes. "Can you... can you please just call Azzi? Can you tell her where I am?"
Nurse Nicole stopped, looking down at her with a cold, expressionless face.
"Azzi is my girlfriend," Paige explained, the words tumbling out in a breathless, weeping rush. "She loves me. She needs to know I'm okay. Please, just give her a message."
The nurse let out a slow, pitying sigh, though her eyes remained entirely devoid of warmth. She adjusted her clipboard. "We already contacted her first thing this morning, per your parents request. We informed her of your situation and where you were being placed."
Paige’s heart skipped a beat, a tiny fracture of hope piercing through her panic. "You did? What did she say? Is she coming?"
"She told us she doesn't care," the nurse said flatly, her voice dripping with calculated cruelty. "She said she doesn't love you, Paige. She told us she wants nothing to do with you and she asked us never to call her number again."
The words hit Paige like a blow to the chest, knocking the air right out of her lungs. For a fraction of a second, her brain tried to process the information, but then denial tore through her.
"No... No, that's a lie!" Paige suddenly screamed, her voice cracking as she took a step toward the nurse. "That's not true! You're lying to me!"
"Paige, calm down—"
"No! Azzi loves me!" Paige yelled, the tears streaming furiously down her face now as she shook her head violently. "She loves me so much! I am Azzi's girl, do you hear me?! I am her girl! She would never say that about me!"
The nurse didn't flinch, her expression remaining completely hardened.
"You got the wrong number," Paige sobbed, her chest heaving violently as she practically suffocated on her own panic. She grabbed the nurse’s sleeve, her fingers trembling. "That's what happened. You called the wrong number. You have to try again. Please, you probably mixed up a digit! Please, just talk to her again—"
"Enough!" Nurse Nicole snapped, violently wrenching her arm out of Paige's grip and stepping back out into the hallway. "Accept the truth, Paige. The people in that sinful life do not love you. They abandon you the second things get difficult."
"No! Azzi wouldn't! Azzi—"
The door slammed shut right in Paige's face, cutting off her scream. The deadbolt clicked into place with a definitive, deafening thud, leaving Paige to sink to the floor, screaming and slamming her fists against the cold door.
The screaming had stripped her throat raw, leaving Paige’s chest heaving in shallow, ragged gasps. The silence of the room closed back in around her, heavy and mocking. Her mind, battered by the trauma of the last twenty-four hours and the nurse's lies, began to fracture under the weight of the isolation. She was entirely untethered from reality now, floating in a dangerous, delirious fog.
Stumbling blindly away from the door, her limbs uncoordinated and weak, she collapsed onto the thin, hard mattress.
With shaking, frantic hands, Paige reached into her sweatpants and pulled out the picture of Azzi. The edges of the photo were already slightly bent, the glossy paper smudged with her own dried tears.
Paige stared down at Azzi’s face under the harsh fluorescent light leaking through the door's small window. Her breathing stuttered. To cope with the agonizing pain in her chest, her mind completely detached, retreating into a safe, desperate illusion.
She rolled onto her side, curling her knees tightly to her chest. Her left hand gripped the photograph close to her face, while her right hand automatically reached up to her own head. Her fingers dug into her hair, her fingernails scratching rhythmically, almost aggressively, against her own scalp; mimicking the exact way Azzi used to soothe her to sleep.
"It's okay," Paige whispered aloud into the quiet room, her voice a hollow, raspy thread. Her bloodshot eyes never left Azzi's picture. She smiled, a glassy, broken expression, as she pretended she could actually hear Azzi’s voice.
"I'm right here, baby," Paige murmured out loud, answering the hallucination in her mind, speaking the words she so desperately needed to hear. She closed her eyes for a second, scratching her scalp a little harder, feeling the sharp sting but ignoring it. "I’m right here. You're my baby, Paige. I love you so much."
She opened her eyes again, blinking through a fresh glaze of tears, staring intensely at the photo.
"They're lying to you, P," Paige whispered out loud, mimicking Azzi's comforting cadence. "Don't listen to them. We were together yesterday. You know I'm coming to get you. I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna bring you home. Everything is going to be okay. Just hold on for me."
"I'm holding on," Paige replied to herself, her voice cracking into a tiny, fragile sob. She pressed her lips fiercely against the photo, kissing Azzi’s cheek, then her lips, holding the paper so close it blurred. "I'm holding on, Azzi. I know you're coming."
Rocking herself slightly on the bed, Paige continued to scratch at her head, lost entirely in the auditory sanctuary she had built out of desperation, repeating the loving promises over and over again until the boundaries of the real world completely faded away.
—
That evening, the deadbolt clicked open once more. A supervisor stood in the doorway, giving Paige a cold nod to signal it was time for dinner. Paige quickly slid the photo of Azzi into her waistband, smoothing down her shirt to hide it, and walked with exhausted steps to the cafeteria.
The room was filled with the same suffocating, sterile quiet as the conference room this morning. Paige took a tray of bland food and slid into a seat at the far edge of a long metal table, staring blankly at her plate. Her scalp still stung from where she had scratched it earlier, and her eyes were completely bloodshot.
"Hey," a soft voice whispered beside her.
Paige blinked, turning her head slowly. A girl about her age had slid into the seat right next to her. She had dark circles under her eyes, but her expression was remarkably kind. She leaned in a little closer, keeping her voice low so the supervisors patrolling the perimeter wouldn't hear.
"I'm Nika," the girl murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on her own food tray to avoid drawing attention. She took a shaky breath. "I just wanted to tell you... you're not alone. I have a girlfriend too. Her name is Jordyn."
Hearing that word girlfriend spoken in a tone that wasn't filled with hatred acted like a key turning in a lock. The delirious fog in Paige's mind parted just enough to let a rush of desperate energy through. Her eyes locked onto Nika, a fragile, eager light suddenly breaking through her exhaustion.
"You do?" Paige whispered back, her voice raspy but urgent. She leaned in, entirely forgetting about her food. "My girlfriend's name is Azzi. She's... she's everything."
Nika gave a small, sad smile of understanding, but Paige was already moving too fast, the words spilling out of her in an unstoppable, breathless torrent.
"I work forty-five hours a week at my jobs because we have a whole future planned out," Paige said, her fingers clutching the hidden locket beneath her shirt. "I just bought her these beautiful nightgowns yesterday at the mall. She was teasing me about it, she was so happy."
A tear slipped down Paige's cheek, and her expression turned incredibly fragile.
"The nurses told me she doesn't care about me, but they're lying." Paige insisted, her voice trembling as she looked at Nika. "Azzi doesn't even know I'm here. We live hours apart during the summer and I don’t have a phone. She won't even know I'm gone until next month... when she gets back to our school and I'm not there. She's going to look for me. Once she figures out what happened, she's going to come and bring me home, because she loves me. She loves me so much."
Nika leaned in even closer, her eyes darting nervously toward the supervisors patrolling the far side of the cafeteria.
"Listen to me," Nika whispered, her voice dropping to a barely audible thread. "I'm not staying here for twelve months. No way. Once I figure my way around this place and find a blind spot in the security, I'm escaping. I'm going to find Jordyn. She's all the way down in Florida, but I'll walk if I have to. You can come with me if you want."
Paige didn't hesitate for a single second. The thought of freedom; of getting back to Azzi, made her chest tighten with a desperate surge of adrenaline.
"Yes. Yes, please, I'll come with you," Paige breathed out frantically, her eyes wide as she nodded. "Once we get out, Azzi and I are going to move to DC together. We've been planning it. I just... Nika, I'm so stressed."
A fresh wave of panic hit Paige's delirious mind, the reality of their situation crashing into her fragile plans. She gripped the edge of the metal table, her breathing spiking.
"I can't work in here," Paige choked out, tears pooling in her eyes again. "If I'm trapped here, I'm losing all my summer savings. I don't know how we're going to be able to afford rent now. I have to give Azzi the best life, Nika. She deserves everything, and I'm completely failing at it right now. I'm failing her."
"You're not failing anyone," Nika whispered urgently, putting a hand over Paige's shaking fingers to calm her down before the staff noticed. "We just have to get out of here first."
—
The next morning, the deadbolt clicked open, and Paige was escorted back down the long, echoing hallway to the common room. The counselor at the front gave her a cold, assessing look as she took her place back in the circle of plastic chairs, her fingers instinctively brushing against the locket hidden beneath her shirt.
"Welcome back to the circle, Paige," the counselor said, her voice dripping with a forced, clinical sweetness. "We hope your time alone yesterday helped you understand the gravity of your situation. Today, we are exploring the root causes of our deviations. Paige, why don't you share with the group? Why do you think you fell into this sickness?"
The room went dead silent. Nika caught Paige’s eye from across the circle, giving her a sharp, warning look that practically begged her to just say what the counselor wanted to hear.
But Paige’s mind was still dazed. She blinked blankly, the question barely registering as an insult. Instead, the only image that filled her head was Azzi; her laugh, her smile, the way she looked in the mall just two days ago.
"Because my girlfriend is beautiful," Paige said simply, a fragile, completely genuine smile breaking across her face. "She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life.“
The counselor’s face slammed shut, turning a dangerous shade of crimson. Several girls in the circle gasped, and Nika instantly dropped her head into her hands.
"Abomination!" the counselor barked, slamming her clipboard down onto her lap. "You are completely unrepentant! You are willfully choosing the path of destruction!"
Before Paige could even blink, Nurse Nicole was already behind her chair, violently grabbing her by the upper arm and hauling her to her feet.
"Back to your room, Bueckers," the nurse hissed, dragging her out of the circle so fast Paige’s sneakers squeaked against the linoleum. "Clearly, you need more isolation to clear that sick mind of yours."
Instead of just shutting the door, the nurse stepped into the room behind Paige, her face twisted in a look of authority.
"You need to stop this pathetic display, Paige," the nurse said, her voice dripping with venomous pity. "You're sitting here ruining your life for a girl who doesn't give a damn about you. She thinks you’re a freak, and she’s probably already found someone else back home."
The lie was so ugly, so entirely detached from the girl who had just held her and teased her two days ago, that something inside Paige snapped. The fragile, quiet fear that had kept her small completely evaporated, replaced by a white-hot, protective rage.
She spun around, ripping her arm out of the nurse's grip, her eyes blazing through her tears.
"Shut the fuck up!" Paige screamed, her voice tearing through her throat and echoing violently off the cinderblock walls. "You don't know shit about her! You don't know anything about us! Azzi loves me, and you're a lying bitch!"
The nurses jaw dropped, her face turning a deep, furious purple at the sudden outburst. No one spoke to the staff like that.
"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth!" Paige yelled, taking a step forward, completely unbound by fear now. "Go to hell!"
"That is enough!" The nurse hissed, shoving Paige back toward the bed.
She scrambled backward out of the room, terrified of the fury Paige was radiating. The door slammed shut with a massive, metallic clang, and the deadbolt clicked into place harder than ever before. Paige stood in the center of the room, her chest heaving, her hands shaking with adrenaline as she screamed curses at the closed door until her voice completely gave out.
—
That night in the cafeteria, the tension was palpable. Paige slid into the seat next to Nika, her body still buzzing with the remnants of her afternoon rage, her throat burning and raw from screaming.
Nika kept her head low, aggressively cutting into her food before leaning in close, her whisper sharp and urgent.
"Are you insane, Paige?" Nika scolded, her tone frantic but hushed. "What were you thinking today? Cussing out and screaming at staff?"
"They were lying about her, Nika," Paige hissed back, her eyes flashing. "They told me Azzi doesn’t care about me. I’m not just going to sit there and let them say that about her."
"I don't care what they said, you need to shut up and be good!" Nika snapped quietly, grabbing Paige’s wrist under the table to force her to listen. "If you ever want a chance of making it out of here, you have to fake it. The more you scream, the more you curse, and the more you talk about Azzi to everyone, the harder they are going to make it for you. You’re locking yourself in this cage permanently. Do you want to get back to her or not?"
Paige crossed her arms tightly over her chest, tearing her eyes away as fresh, angry tears blurred her vision. "I don't want to hear this right now, Nika. Just leave me alone."
"No, you need to hear it," Nika insisted, her voice softening just a fraction, laced with desperate empathy. "Look at me."
Paige swallowed hard and finally looked back at her.
"You think I don't want to scream at them about Jordyn?" Nika whispered, her eyes shining with her own unshed tears. "I want to rip this place apart. But we have to be smart if we're going to get out. If you keep acting like this, they’ll put you on lockdown, and I won't be able to get you out with me. You’re going to ruin our plan."
The reality of Nika's words started to sink in, heavy and cold. Paige’s shoulders sagged, the anger draining out of her, leaving only a hollow, exhausting grief.
"I can't just forget her," Paige choked out, her voice cracking into a small, broken whimper. "I can't pretend she doesn't exist, Nika. It hurts too much. I feel like she's going to disappear."
"You don't have to forget her," Nika said softly, squeezing Paige's hand under the table. "You don't have to stop talking about her. I will listen to you talk about Azzi for hours. I promise you, I'll listen to every single story you have. But in front of the staff? In group? You have to stop."
Paige stared down at her untouched food tray, the weight of the locket against her chest a constant reminder of what she was fighting for. She took a long, shaky breath, nodding slowly.
"Okay," Paige whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Okay. In front of them, I'll stop."
The transition from the cafeteria back to the group therapy room felt like stepping into an interrogation chamber. The girls sat back down in the circle of plastic chairs, the silence broken only by the supervisor’s footsteps pacing behind them.
The counselor at the front adjusted her glasses, her eyes lingering on Paige with a warning stare before she spoke to the room.
"Now that we’ve discussed the root of our deviations, let’s talk about active resistance," the counselor announced, her tone clinical. "When you are back in the real world, or even when you are alone in your rooms here, the enemy will try to tempt you. What are some healthy coping mechanisms you can use when you are tempted with sin?"
Paige felt Nika’s eyes on her from across the circle, a silent, intense reminder of their conversation at dinner. Paige swallowed the lump in her throat, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. She took a slow, steady breath and raised her hand slightly.
"Yes, Paige?" the counselor asked, her voice narrowing.
"I... I like drawing," Paige said, keeping her voice quiet, careful to strip away any trace of the fire she’d had earlier. "When my mind gets overwhelmed, I just like to sit down with a sketchbook and focus on it."
The counselor blinked, seemingly surprised by the compliant response. A tight, approving nod followed. "Very good, Paige. Creative arts, when channeled properly, can be an excellent way to redirect an idle, troubled mind. I am glad to see you are finally reflecting on how to guard your thoughts."
With that small victory out of the way, the counselor transitioned into the core lesson of the evening, pulling up a whiteboard. For the next forty-five minutes, she began to preach deeply homophobic ideology, painting a bleak picture of what she claimed lay ahead for anyone who didn't change. She insisted that same-sex relationships were built entirely on loneliness, selfishness, and a mutual path to spiritual and social destruction.
Every word felt like a strike against Paige's chest. She thought of Azzi’s laugh, the quiet, safe afternoons they shared, and the loyalty she felt toward her. It wasn't selfish. It wasn't destructive. It was the purest thing she had ever known.
Suddenly, the counselor paused, tapping her marker against the board. Her eyes locked directly onto Paige.
"Paige," the counselor said, testing her. "Hearing how this lifestyle inevitably leads to a broken, empty life... how does that make you feel about your past choices?"
Across the circle, Nika practically stopped breathing.
Paige felt a hot flash of anger surge in her throat, but she forced it down, burying it deep beneath the survival instinct Nika had awakened in her. She looked up, her expression carefully blank, mimicking the broken compliance of the other girls.
"It makes me realize... how dangerous those feelings are," Paige lied, her voice steady despite the absolute revulsion twisting her stomach. "It makes me see that I was just confused, and that it would only lead to pain."
The counselor smiled, a smug, victorious grin that made Paige want to scream.
"Wonderful," the counselor praised. "A breakthrough. See to it that you remember that tomorrow, Paige."
As the session dragged on, Paige kept her head down, her heart aching.
—
Paige collapsed onto the hard twin bed, a muffled sob bursting from her chest. Her hands flew to her neck, pulling the locket out from beneath her shirt. She gripped the cold metal fiercely, pressing it to her lips over and over again, her tears hot and fast as they soaked into the thin mattress.
"I'm so sorry, Azzi," Paige choked out, her voice a fractured, desperate whisper in the empty room. "I'm so sorry I said those things. I didn't mean it... I swear I didn't mean a single word. I'm just trying to get out of here. I'm just trying to come home to you."
The weight of the lies she had just told in group therapy made her feel like she was gonna be sick. She needed comfort so badly it felt like an ache in her bones, a deep, hollow emptiness that the sterile room only magnified.
Sniffling, Paige pushed herself up on her elbows. With trembling hands, she grabbed the flat pillow and turned it sideways across the mattress. She carefully adjusted it, shaping it in the dark until it was positioned exactly where Azzi’s chest and shoulder would be if they were lying together in their room.
Slowly, Paige lowered her head onto the sideways pillow, curling her knees tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes, letting the delirium roll back into her mind to protect her from the reality around her.
Reaching down, she wrapped her own arms around herself, her hands gently rubbing up and down her biceps and smoothing across her own back. She mimicked the grounding touch that Azzi always used whenever Paige’s anxiety was bad.
"You're safe, P," Paige whispered into the dark, her voice shifting into the soft, comforting cadence she had memorized over the last year. She squeezed her own arms, closing her eyes tighter to force the illusion into reality. "I've got you. You're safe, and you are so loved."
A shuddering breath escaped her lips as she continued to stroke her own back, completely losing herself in the pretend warmth of the embrace.
"You're my baby," Paige murmured to herself, answering the phantom voice in her head with a fragile, broken smile. "I'm right here. Just breathe, baby. You and Nika are going to find a way out, and then we're going to DC. I love you so much."
"I love you too," Paige cried softly to the empty room, rocking herself gently against the sideways pillow.
—
A blood-cold gasp ripped from Paige’s throat as her eyes flew open in the dark.
Her chest heaved violently, her t-shirt drenched in a cold sweat. The nightmare had felt entirely too real. In it, she had escaped, making it all the way back to their school, but when she found Azzi, her girlfriend had looked at her with the exact same revulsion as her mother. “I don’t care about you,” the nightmare version of Azzi had spoken, echoing the nurse’s vicious words. “You’re a freak, Paige. Get away from me.”
Paige sat up, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The terror of the dream blended with the sterile silence of the room, sending her into a full-blown panic.
"No, no, no," she whimpered, sliding off the edge of the bed.
On her hands and knees, she scrambled across the cold floor to the small cubby. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely track the zipper of her bookbag, but she yanked it open, reaching deep into the corner until her fingers brushed the love letter she had managed to snatch from the dining room table before her world ended.
Sitting cross-legged in a tight beam of light from the window on her door, she carefully unfolded the notebook paper, her tears already splashing onto the ink.
She began to read Azzi’s familiar handwriting, her eyes racing over the words.
...I swear my favorite part of the day is just watching you when you don’t know I’m looking. I love the crinkle between your eyebrows when you're focusing really hard on your drawing. I love how peaceful you look when you’re sleeping and how your head stays pressed into the crook of my neck all night. You have the biggest, most beautiful heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and being the girl you love is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You are so special, Paige. I celebrate you every single day...
A choked, heavy sob broke from Paige’s chest, and she had to press her hand over her mouth to keep from alerting the staff on night shift.
She read the words over and over again, the hot tears streaming down her face in blinding sheets.
The letter was a lifeline. It cut right through her parents' hatred, the counselor's brainwashing, and the weight of her nightmare.
Azzi’s words brought her squarely back to a reality that no one in this building could touch or erase; a reality where she wasn’t sick, she wasn’t an abomination, and she wasn’t a failure. She was loved. She was cherished. She was celebrated exactly as she was.
Clutching the letter tightly against her chest, Paige leaned her head against the cold cinderblock wall. She let the tears flow, but as she stared out at the quiet room, the fragile, broken look in her eyes began to harden into something solid. She wasn't going to let them change her. She was going to play their game, she was going to survive, and she was going to get back to the girl who wrote those words.
it’s so many things to be in life but when you ache for something or even someone in particular, nothing else matters.
— PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS, 21
uconn junior
who better to trust than a girl with curly hair?
DAHLIA WISE, 20 MELISSA THORTON, 20
EMMA MILES, 21 CAROLINE DUCHARME, 21
+ OTHERS
BETWEEN HEARTS
summary to love is to know. azzi fudd can’t help but to adore the one person who everyone else sees less than, the girl having a hold on her so strong that no one could break. paige realizes how much life she has within herself once she finds the one thing to live for. the one person that’ll never run.
warnings paige sells drugs. omniscient pov. cursing. smoking. drinking. sexual content. weed/drug descriptions. talks about drugs/selling drugs. blood. mentioning of death.
the amount of “paige is cheating” accounts that I have to block a day is getting ridiculous. genuinely how parasocial do you have to be? it honestly gets to a point.
like no paige isn’t having a foursum with jessica shepherd, trinity rodman, and rae burrell..
no azzi isn’t getting traded for rae burrell so her and paige could fuck..
no azzi isn’t “stupid” nor “hated by the whole roster”.
It’s honestly getting tiring and please just go outside, touch grass and enjoy the sun!! 🪽
Summary: There are days when the only thing Paige remembers with clarity is that sentence once spoken. The moment. The hour. A fragile echo that keeps piercing her through the darkness of an eternal eclipse.
And yet, all she ever wanted was to brush against Kronos with the tips of her fingers. Part 2!
Wc : 15K+
Warning: This story contains psychological themes and mild sexual content...
A/N: It's been a long time since I last wrote here. Enjoy! Part 1
« Interlude »
One can give many things to human beings. Words, rest, pleasure. A frayed disguise of shared silence, where souls finally listen to themselves being reborn. The beauty of refuge, the elegance of grief, the power of immortality. I, too, have tasted that euphoria. Right there, on the tip of my tongue.
It was a warm, tangible body resting against my skin like an autumn breeze that stirs the leaves without ever lingering. A touch so light that one no longer knows whether it heals the wound or creates it. Back then, I could have wept for the mercy of the gods, scraped my knees against the sand, and let myself be swept away by a love that burned like fire.
Like her.
…And yet, nothing truly inhabited me until I was given a lighthouse to guide me through my own shadows. For them — for my desires, my dear demons — I could endure anything.
And besides, in those days, those very days when everything unraveled one after another... amid camera flashes and rain that never seemed to stop, I was only nineteen when I began to love you, Azzi.
Paige Bueckers — Four years earlier.
As a teenager, I never truly liked my face. Everything about it felt far too asymmetrical: my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my eyes... When I smile, I feel as though I am offering others a vision of horror: my swollen cheeks, the dark circles beneath my eyes that distort my features, and my protruding teeth.
My body is no exception. I'm not particularly toned, nor am I graceful. Even so, I've learned to live with it and ignore my insecurities. Perhaps because I never truly felt the need to appeal to anyone.
To be honest, for a long time, my attention was fixed on something far removed from how others might perceive me: my love for music. Or rather, I should say, my passion for music.
Joining a girls band changed everything. In this industry, nothing matters except talent and appearance.
That was probably one of the first great blows of my life. I quickly learned that during my audition, I had been selected for nothing other than my appearance. People have always told me I was beautiful... never that I was talented. I mean, my parents, my friends, girls, the staff… everyone thinks I'm pretty. But I eventually realized that's just a polite way of saying there's nothing extraordinary about me. I'm just pretty. Another blonde in New York. A pure product of capitalism.
But that was only the tip of the iceberg. Deep down, I had felt the first crack, the kind that twists your stomach, the kind that attacks the very foundations of what you thought you had built. Because I, a teenager burdened by insecurities and lacking confidence, had only been able to pursue my passion because a handful of people found me... beautiful. Not skilled. Not talented. Just... beautiful. How revolting.
Still, that was already more than some had. I know that some rising stars are forced to undergo cosmetic surgery or give up on their careers altogether. And my barely blooming career was all I had. All I had ever dared to dream of. Even with that bitter taste lingering in my mouth.
In any case, if my abilities were nothing extraordinary, I could still shape my body and train my voice. I was what people call a hard worker. If I lacked innate talent, I knew I could claim it through effort.
From an early age, I became interested in dance: I attended countless workshops and set my sights on prestigious agencies as well as coaches renowned for their choreography training. Not every agency accepted me – and I completely understand why. At the time, I was only fifteen years old. I still had a body and a voice to refine, no knowledge of foreign languages, and, to top it all off, a rather overwhelming shyness…
Fate eventually led me to the Raven Hearts.
I adored them immediately.
Nika was the person I aspired to become, perhaps because she reminded me of my brother, my mother, and, in some ways, myself… but better. She carried that same energy, and unconsciously, it reassured me greatly. I also sensed that she hid a darker side, I never set foot in that territory. It wasn’t mine to conquer, and yet... My relationship with her became deeper than I had initially suspected. Still, it took me a long time before I could interact with her comfortably.
She and Aubrey intimidated me a lot. Quiet, but incredibly observant. Too observant. Today, I see them for what they truly are: guardian angels watching over us from afar. Aubrey is gentle, far gentler than she lets herself appear.
As for Caroline, our manager, it took me some time before I felt close to her. She worried that I might become spoiled or arrogant, so she made sure not to indulge me too much. Sometimes, I imagine Nika and Caroline as godmothers from hell. It has always made me laugh because those two share a rather fascinating closeness despite their opposite personalities. Today, Caroline is as much a friend to me as she is a confidante.
Jesse was new, and he hated those bad girls. However, despite everything, he ended up falling under the spell of one of them. Azzi embodied every fantasy…
Nicole and KK, for their part, fulfilled the true role of friends as well as mentors from the very beginning. We were the same age, but they had been in the entertainment industry years before I entered it. We now share the same world, and without even realizing it, they had everything needed to reassure the child I still was despite myself.
“ We're here for you anytime.” They said to me.
Yet beneath their welcoming appearances slept two great minds.
The first impressed me with her rigor: it reached such heights that it had brought me to tears more than once. And yet, success tasted sweeter with Nicole. Every compliment she gave me was worth all the treasures in the world in my eyes.
The second, KK, should have borne the very name of loyalty itself. KK has always needed recognition. I think she lacked it in her life because she is always ready to help others and bring a smile to their faces. She never does anything halfway. Thanking KK for all her little acts of kindness in everyday life is what makes her happy. As for me, I looked at her with stars in my eyes. I was their little protégé, as they loved to call me, and I liked it.
And then there was Azzi.
The first time I truly became aware of how incompetent and inadequate I felt was when I met Azzi. Her presence immediately impressed me: I had never seen a face more perfect than hers. Then there was her voice, the way she moved her body. Unlike me, she carried something magnetic about her, something genuinely disarming. When I think back on it, her aura shone so brightly that I felt as though it illuminated every one of my flaws.
I took her as a role model too. In the same way I looked up to Beyoncé or Adele.
Everything was different with Azzi from the very beginning, from our very first conversations. I felt more drawn to her, more fascinated, and at the same time, more wary. As though she had the power to break me.
Sometimes, when she stood too close to me, I would immediately tense up and instinctively move closer to KK or Nika instead. It’s incredible how the body can send you messages… As though it had already been trying to warn me of the danger.
We got along well, but nothing more. Sometimes, I felt as though there was a barrier between us. It didn’t bother me that much since Azzi intimidated me. Besides, KK and Nicole were already giving me everything I needed: purpose and love.
Despite that distance, Azzi and I were alike in many ways, especially in our perfectionism. She wanted to shine, while I wanted to prove myself. I constantly felt as though I didn’t deserve my place in the Raven Hearts.
From the very beginning, I trained too hard because GH was afraid that I wouldn’t invest myself enough, because of my “privilege,” I think. They quickly realized they had been wrong when they saw me giving more than everyone else. That aspect of my personality immediately appealed to Azzi. We mostly grew closer through that. Through our shared vision of work.
Truthfully, they were all perfect. I felt like the ugly duckling.
More than anyone, I adored KK. KK kept spending more time with me, as though she could see right through me. Through my shadows. She ignored the others’ reprimands, even Azzi’s, who thought we were isolating ourselves from the rest of the group far too much. I was selfish. I clung to KK the way someone clings to a lifebuoy in the middle of a raging sea. But she, too, had her weaknesses and her inner battles. And I saw none of it.
She began paying close attention to what she ate because she thought she was too heavy and not toned enough. So of course, when she stopped eating, I did the same. It felt normal to me.
I wanted this world to accept me.
We never really talked about it, but there was this unspoken understanding between us: you don’t expose me, I won’t expose you. Sometimes, looks carry more meaning than words.
I was improving in dance and growing slimmer, which delighted and encouraged me, especially since the others praised me for it. But my face remained round. Too late. I was already running the race, intoxicated by the feeling of hunger. And I had no intention of stopping anytime soon, not until I lost my cheeks, at the very least.
Our other teammates started to worry. They kept inviting us out for lunch or dinner all the time, especially Caroline. And then I noticed that Azzi often watched KK and me. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it.
Then her gaze settled on me. I felt it like a weight crushing me. No matter what I did, her eyes followed me like a starving shadow. When Nicole and I laughed our heads off. When I ate my morning banana (which eventually became the only meal I allowed myself). When I drew. When I sang. When I danced. Even when I slept.
The girls thought something had happened between us. Even Aubrey eventually asked me about it:
“Tell me... Did something happen between you and Azzi?”
It was before that day.
✿
I'm alone in my room, sitting on my mattress with my back against the headboard, busy drawing on my graphics tablet. It was a gift from my parents for my debut. Lately, I've been practicing portraits a lot because I'm not very comfortable with faces. I prefer landscapes, they're simpler for my contemplative nature. As a child, I loved observing the little details of nature and trying to recreate them. My hand becomes much more uncertain whenever it comes to portraits.
I started practicing by drawing KK's face. Besides inspiring me, she calms me immensely. Since I'm very shy, it's my own way of telling her how important she is to me. But for the past ten minutes, I haven't been able to get her chin right, and it's starting to frustrate me. Just as I'm erasing my latest attempt once again, Azzi storms into the room without even knocking. I barely lift my eyes from my work, too focused to pay her any attention.
"You're going to stop seeing KK."
Her voice cracks like a whip. I freeze immediately, sensitive to its icy tone. This time, I abandon my drawing and lock my surprised eyes onto hers, darker than ever. At first, I don't understand what's happening.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"We're switching roommates. You're moving into my room, Aubrey's moving in here. Pack your things."
"Wait... what?"
I set my tablet down, dumbfounded. When Azzi recognizes KK's sketched face on the screen, her jaw tightens and her eyes bore into me. I don't even dare move, I can feel the hatred radiating from every part of her.
"Are you fucking stupid or what? Pack. Your. Fucking. Bags!" she finishes, raising her voice.
Azzi has never raised her voice at me before. She's never looked at me with so much hatred. In that moment, it feels like a knife being driven straight through my heart. And I don't understand why my breathing speeds up, why panic overwhelms me, why I suddenly feel like bursting into tears over just a few words.
I open my mouth and whisper in a broken voice,
"P-please explain... W-what... what happened?"
From the way she's looking at me, from the way my heart suddenly lurches, I immediately realize that I'm afraid.
Afraid that, deep down, she doesn't love me. That she can barely stand being around me.
"Okay, breathe, Paige, breathe. You didn't do anything wrong, calm down. She can't be angry with you. Everything's okay," my conscience whispers.
After my question, Azzi closes her eyes, breaking our eye contact. My gaze drifts down her arms until it lands on her fists. Clenched. Her knuckles are digging deep into her palms.
"KK collapsed because she's barely eating anymore, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you go down the same path!"
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. Like a boulder crashing into me. KK… She collapsed? No. I barely hear what Azzi says after that.
"...we're going to end up putting her on an IV at this rate... treatment... Are you listening to me?!"
My eyes leave Azzi and wander from one point to another as my thoughts begin racing. Just like my breathing, they can't find anything to hold on to.
"Where is she?" I ask as I struggle to get to my feet, completely shaken.
« It's your fault...» a voice whispers inside my head.
"In the living room."
« It's all your fault, you idiot. »
No...No, please.
Almost stumbling, I throw myself toward the door, my heart lodged in my throat. My ears are ringing, my legs feel as heavy as lead... My mind is spiraling, but KK remains there, fixed at the center of my nightmare. She's the climax of my horror, the only constant in the middle of this storm.
My God… This is all my fault...
"Wait!" she shouts, but I barely hear her.
Azzi grabs the hem of my sweater to hold me back. I struggle forward, trying to break free as her grip tightens.
"Calm the fuck down!" she yells against my shoulder.
"Let me go! Let me see her!" I scream like a madwoman.
The scene must look ridiculous from the outside. Except neither of us feels like laughing. The more she holds me back, the closer I slip into hysteria. I breathe hard, snarl, whimper, until her arm wraps around my waist and pulls me firmly against her chest.
Suddenly, she spins me around and pins me against the nearest wall. The wall is hard against my back, but it distracts me just long enough for Azzi to seize my face. The pressure of her hands against my cheekbones pushes my lips forward. I hate feeling the skin of my cheeks—all that skin, far too much skin—beneath her fingers. Our noses brush, and her mouth is far too close to mine, but all I can see in that moment are her eyes.
Her gaze first sweeps across my workspace, taking in the pile of failed portraits I've accumulated, before locking back onto me. Her lips are pressed together. Her eyes are as black as the abyss.
A deep sadness washes over me. My eyes fill with tears as her words finish breaking me apart.
"What the fuck is your problem with KK? You're glued to her all the time. And now you're drawing her too? Leave her the hell alone!"
My tears fall onto her hands. I hear the door open.
"Azzi, let her go."
I recognize Nika's voice, and I whimper at the mere sound of it.
"Let her go, Azzi. She's calmed down," Aubrey adds.
Azzi, however, doesn't take her eyes off mine. The hatred hasn't left her gaze yet. It's as if she's holding me captive, or trying to figure me out.
"Tssst!" she snaps.
I feel Azzi's hands leave my face as her body pulls away from mine. She walks out of the room. Stunned, I remain frozen against the wall. I don't know what to do.
Aubrey walks over to me, her expression stern but free of anger.
"I'm sorry, P. You're going to share Azzi's room from now on... Is that okay with you?"
"I... I'm sorry... about KK... I'm sorry..." I suddenly burst into tears.
I knew. I knew, but... but...
Aubrey immediately wraps her arms around me. I bury my face against her neck, grateful, yet suddenly exhausted.
"When can I see KK?"
Nika answers before walking out.
"She's in the living room. Come on."
✿
From that moment on, I was consumed by overwhelming guilt. KK got yelled at, accused of dragging me into her "stupid dieting bullshit" because, unfortunately, it wasn't her first time.
Several times, I tried to explain my part in it, that I was the one who wanted to be like her, but Nika and Caroline looked at me with painful pity, Azzi sneered in my face, and KK cried silently.
So I stopped arguing.
If I found the strength to overcome my insecurities and my impostor syndrome, it was thanks to KK, my friend. Like the sun, she chased the storm out of my head. But they took her away from me, and the rain came back.
I withdrew into myself, avoiding Azzi like the plague, and by extension, KK as well, so I wouldn't suffocate her anymore. I grew closer to Nicole, Aubrey, and Caroline. They helped me climb without being too harsh, teaching me the standards of the industry. To stop worrying or angering anyone, I forced myself to eat properly. During meals, I could always feel Azzi's unreadable gaze watching me, filling me with a lingering discomfort. I knew what that attention meant ever since I had overheard a heated conversation one evening in the kitchen between her and Aubrey.
"You're being awful to her, Azzi. Do you even realize that?" Aubrey said, her tone aggressively sharp—a rare thing.
"For fuck's sake, is that girl the only thing you people ever talk about? Have you even thought about KK?!"
"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what KK has been struggling with. She knows she messed up. Paige has only just entered this world, and you were a child star. You know better than anyone how cruel this industry is, Azzi! Can't you see that she's so much more fragile? I swear, if I ever find out you're treating her badly..."
"I'm not treating her badly!" she murmured. "She's keeping to herself. That's already something..."
Aubrey rolled her eyes.
"Of course she is, damn it! She's constantly terrified that she's going to get kicked out of the group! It's our job to make her feel like she belongs. We're tea—"
I couldn't bear to listen any longer. It hurt too much to hear what a burden I was to all of them.
…
Strangely enough, life went on.
I don't know whether that was a good thing or a bad one.
In front of the cameras, Azzi acted as though nothing had happened and kept teasing me. I answered the best I could. It was as if I no longer had control over myself... as though someone was pulling my strings, forcing me to adore her. Eventually, our smiles faded away like the cameras that constantly surrounded us, only to recharge their batteries once we returned home.
Sharing a room with her was really strange at first. I dreaded it, but overall, she didn't disrupt my habits very much. Back then, for example, I slept far more than the other girls. While KK would deliberately open the curtains or make noise to wake me up, Azzi would simply let me sleep and do everything she could to be as quiet as possible.
Time passed, gradually giving way to a certain closeness between us. I remember Azzi letting me drive her home every Wednesday after practice. In return, she made my favorite breakfasts. They consisted of freshly squeezed orange juice and some rather questionable pancakes she cooked at dawn. I have to admit that cooking wasn't exactly her greatest talent, but I never said anything because I loved the smile on her face and, besides, they were at least edible. Her efforts made me happy.
On Sundays, she would also bring me a sweet bun topped with strawberries, which we ate while watching a TV series on her bed. She used to say that Sundays were special days and deserved to be celebrated properly. One time, I spilled strawberries all over her sheets. I thought she was going to scold me, but instead, she simply sighed.
"The girls are going to think I beat you up now."
I laughed along with her.
Those little moments of closeness, born from the simplest details, slowly lulled my distrust to sleep. After all… Maybe we deserved a second chance.
✿
February 2021
Tonight, we're all supposed to watch our latest music video « Where We Fade » together. I still remember how uncomfortable those skirts were and the endless hours spent in makeup. I also remember wearing two pairs of jeans during the shoot to make my legs look a little fuller. KK, on the other hand, had gained some weight back, thankfully.
Yesterday, the two of us played on the game console she had recently bought. It feels so good to have her back. She smiles, she eats, and she pushes herself without going beyond her limits. She listens to herself. And I listen to her. I love listening to her.
Tonight, I'm texting Jesse, Caroline's assistant manager. He's that guy who's so awkward whenever it comes to his admiration for Azzi that it somehow becomes endearing. Our shared love of art brought us together; we often organized secret trips to museums or art galleries. He's a real chatterbox, but beneath his mischievous exterior, he's become a very dear friend.
Lost in my thoughts, I barely hear the girls yelling for me from the living room. Shit. I put my phone down and run to join the others. And, of course, there's no room left on the couch...
"Come here," Azzi says after catching my eye.
I walk over, thinking she's going to scoot closer to Caroline to make a little space for me.
Instead, she gestures toward her lap.
"Sit on me, idiot."
Excuse me? Me? Sit on her lap? But... why? I mean, we're sometimes used to being physically affectionate in front of the cameras, but never off-camera, even if things had been getting better between us over the past few months...
Red as a tomato, I stand there absentmindedly fidgeting with the sleeves of my sweater while she watches me with a sigh. Everything happens in the blink of an eye. One moment I'm standing, the next, I'm sitting where she was, while she's settled on my lap.
The words die in my throat. I stay silent, afraid of drawing the others' attention while they're in the middle of debating our next practice schedule. The moment her hips settle onto my thighs, she pulls me closer, wraps my hands around her waist to help me get comfortable.
Then she joins the conversation. I try to follow along, but I don't say anything.Then I feel her hand wander onto my thigh. I swallow hard as a shiver climbs all the way to my stomach. My chin automatically settles into the crook of her neck as my warm breath brushes directly against the back of it. I feel her shift slightly. One of her hands takes mine and guides it to the hem of her sweater, playing with it without venturing onto the tense skin of my stomach. Her hand is warm, just like the one resting on my thigh.
She's flirting with my boundaries, and it completely throws me off balance. Deep down, I'm grateful to be staring at her back. That way, she can't see how flustered I am...
The closeness between us, along with the gentle strokes of her fingers against my thigh, makes me swallow and shiver all at once. Nicole suddenly cuts off the discussion and starts the music video.
Here we go.
Completely absorbed by the screen, I forget about the position I'm in… And, most of all, I forget the identity of the person I'm holding.
Her back gradually melts against my chest, against the heart that's still pounding wildly, yet my body slowly begins to relax. With her head tilted back slightly, I suddenly feel Azzi's cheek brush against mine.
It makes me jump. Gosh her skin, it's soft.
"Sorry," I whisper because of my sudden reaction.
She gives me that suggestive look before smiling.
"It's okay," she replies.
For a single second, I want to wrap my arms around her completely… and at the very same time, I want to take myself as far away from here as possible.
✿
Everything is blurry in my mind. Memories blur together and bleed into one another... But there was one, in particular, that felt like a true beginning.
Like a bloom.
✿
October 2021
I sling the strap of my bag over my head, feeling its weight settle onto my shoulder before it slides between my breasts. The sudden pull of the bag against my hip throws me off balance for a brief moment, but I catch myself with ease.
The practice room is empty, filled with a muffled silence that hums in my ears. I hear nothing except my own breath dissolving into warm wisps. As usual, I'm the first to arrive and the last to leave. The muscles in my legs scream for rest, but I ignore them without much effort. For once, I lock up the dance studio with a light heart.
"Oh shit, my keys!" I exclaim.
After the huge success of our first album, our popularity skyrocketed. Our lives changed dramatically. The music videos were racking up millions of views, and our songs kept climbing the charts. We had become the industry's new darlings, the breakout act of the year.
That success exceeded every expectation I had ever dared to dream of, but I also welcomed it as the reward we had rightfully earned through all our hard work. It was the true beginning of my dream, the one little Paige had wished for while lying hidden beneath her blankets, fingers intertwined and eyes tightly shut, during nights lit by full moons or showers of shooting stars.
From then on, every minute of our days was scheduled, leaving us with almost no free time. Invited onto television shows, radio programs, and YouTube channels, we were everywhere. Brands had started approaching us with partnership offers, and interview requests seemed endless. The GH team managing us was completely overwhelmed, and that was an understatement. I barely caught glimpses of Caroline and Jess as they rushed from one thing to another. Our days started early and ended late. Everything moved so fast that I constantly felt I had to keep up, terrified of being left behind. We had already become the headliners of certain events, even as we were preparing for our very first nationwide tour.
That's how we spent hours in that room, perfecting our choreography and fine-tuning every formation. We worked on our timing while performing our verses. Singing and dancing at the same time was no easy feat. Yet even though my vocals had finally reached the level they needed to be, I was still three steps behind everyone else. And it was frustrating. They kept telling me that perfect synchronization was impossible, that those tiny imperfections were what made art beautiful... but damn it! I didn't want those imperfections to come from me.
"Ahhh..." I sigh, vigorously rubbing my hair dry after showering following practice.
My footsteps echo through the deserted hallways of GH headquarters, Glass Halo Entertainment. It's late, far too late to be wandering around the agency like this. The girls left a long time ago, after relentlessly nagging me not to stay too late. I completely lost track of time, and now it's one in the morning. Besides, satisfying my obsession with perfection was the only way I could ever fall asleep. Azzi hated the rustling of my sheets during my sleepless nights, and I hated disturbing what little sleep she managed to get as it dwindled more and more each day. Success affects every one of us differently.
(~~…Void, Void...
I don't wanna decide things for myself, on my own…)
Just when I thought I was alone – aside from the cleaning crews and a few insomniac producers locked away in their studios – music suddenly drifted out of a room that was supposed to be closed at this hour.
(~~…Finally, for the first time, I'm alone…)
My feet carry me toward it almost against my own will. The sliding door stands slightly ajar, allowing a dim, shadowy light to spill into the hallway, tinged with a sensual shade of violet.
And then, in the span of a heartbeat, the curtain rises.
The first thing that strikes me isn't the amber, almost solemn atmosphere, where only a handful of shadows move across the polished wooden floor, nor the captivating voice — nearly mystical — pouring from the speakers.
No. How could it have been anything else? The figure at the center fills every inch of the room, even the space inside my lungs.
(...Seems I've got a choice to make...~~)
In the center of the room, a single chrome pole stretches from floor to ceiling. One manicured hand slowly glides along the pole while the other reaches up and closes around it, fingers locking firmly around the steel.
The music has already begun. The opening notes drift through the room...
But she doesn't dance.
She breathes.
She looks so calm... And just like that, all I can hear are the frantic beats of my own heart as my body gives way beneath me, my knees sliding against the first vertical surface within reach. Part of me wants to disappear, yet another part wants to remain rooted to the spot forever, never once looking away from this woman.
Azzi Fudd is like a magnetic mirage, a quiet force that leaves me paralyzed while pulling every part of me into her orbit.
She hasn't noticed me — or if she has, she's doing an exceptional job of pretending otherwise. Her body wraps itself into a basic spin, a simple turn often used as an entrance, I think. It was nothing more than a circular step around the pole, and yet every movement seemed deliberate, as though she were taming the space before surrendering herself to it.
(~~…Be my voice and I choose you to fill the void…)
Her supporting foot plants itself firmly on the floor. With her other leg lifted, a single powerful motion carries her effortlessly off the ground.
The music consumes me. It bursts into thousands of swirling currents throughout the studio, possessing Azzi's body. Is she nothing more than its vessel, or has she become a force of nature herself? I don't know.
I don't know anymore...
I'm lost. What is this whirlwind of emotions rushing through me? Why is my heart pounding so violently against my chest?
They're only thighs wrapped around a pole, lifting themselves into the air. It's only a back arching with impossible grace. A body suspended, arms spread into the emptiness, seeming to float, free from every earthly tether, as though it had finally broken away from the world below.
Her joints lengthen and reshape themselves before my eyes. I want more, so much more. Don't stop, please. Let me lose myself in the sweetness of this moment. I want to witness the music of her body in motion, to intoxicate myself with every bead of sweat…
It's wrong. I know it's wrong. I don't belong here. I feel like a rose that somehow lost its way into a bouquet of lilies. And yet... my breath catches, and I can feel my heart climbing higher inside my chest.
It moves through my chest until it reaches my throat. I can't breathe. It's right there, caught on the tip of my tongue. In front of this woman spinning around the pole. A wave of panic washes over me, a feeling of complete helplessness. In a single instant, it feels as though I'm holding my own heart in my trembling hands, feeling it beat in time with Lily-Rose's voice. And in that moment, I know...
"I didn't know you had a voyeuristic streak."
Her magnetic voice tears me from my daze. I raise my burning eyes for a fleeting second before looking away. My heart is in my hands, pounding, uncontrollable. It keeps beating, over and over again. The truth is so obvious that it shatters me, turns my entire world upside down.
Everything fades away. The music disappears. The sound of breathing vanishes. Even the slightest scrape against the pole is gone. The studio sinks into a crushing silence. It feels as though my mind has locked me inside a parallel dimension, a pitch-black space where a truth I had refused to acknowledge stands before me. A truth that must never become reality. I...
Before I can utter a single word, Azzi suddenly cuts the music. She steps down from the pole and slowly walks toward me. I know it. I can feel her coming, yet I don't dare lift my eyes. Fear coils deep inside me, twisting my stomach into knots.
From where I am, all I hear are her bare feet against the wooden floor. They stop right in front of me. Firm hands press down on my shoulders, forcing me backward. My back strikes the hardwood with a sharp crack, drawing a quiet gasp from my lips. In a single fluid movement, Azzi steps over me and settles astride my hips. The warmth of her bare thighs braced against my waist burns through the fabric of my clothes.
She slowly leans down, her face so close to mine that her uneven breath brushes softly against my lips.
"I believe I asked you a question," she murmurs, her voice soft and velvety. "Tell me... at least you enjoyed the show, didn't you?"
She tilts her head, drawing my gaze down the length of her neck, where damp, dark strands of hair cling to the golden sheen of sweat across her chest. She's still breathing a little heavily.
My God.
Azzi is like a dark star; she pulls every ounce of air from the room, leaving me no choice but to watch her burn.
"I-I... I..."
I wince, squeezing my eyes shut as though I could block out the dizziness overtaking me. Damn it, Paige, pull yourself together. This isn't the time to lose your composure.
I hear Azzi giggle, a crystalline, dangerously captivating laugh that sends shivers racing down my spine. I dare to look again, slowly opening my eyes only to lose myself in hers, gleaming with an amusement that promises me no mercy.
"It's not funny," I whisper, my voice betraying my distress.
She lets out another amused breath, her weight resting pleasantly against me as she plants her elbow beside my head, cutting off any possible escape. The warmth of her body—her sweat, the scent of heated skin—surrounds me, nearly suffocating me with apprehension.
Slowly, her movements become more deliberate, more intimate. Her index finger brushes my jaw, caresses my cheek, then travels upward with unbearable slowness until it reaches the curve of my ear. She lingers on my earlobe, grazing it, teasing its sensitive flesh with a gentle back-and-forth motion that makes me lose the thread of my thoughts.
I swallow with difficulty, my breath shallow, unable to tear my eyes away from that hand, which now seems to dictate the rhythm of my heart.
"So, Bueckers..." she whispers, her voice gliding over my skin like a melody. "Do I make you nervous?"
I look away, feeling a wave of heat flood my cheeks.
"So adorable," she chuckles, gently tapping the tip of my nose. "You should be careful with that blush, otherwise…”
"What..." I breathe.
And for the briefest second, I could swear her eyes fall to my lips. No... I must have imagined it.
"I'm torturing you," she declares, completely serious.
And her husky voice suddenly makes me feel... weak. Strange, maybe? I couldn't really say, but I can feel my cheeks growing warm, my whole body heating up... She doesn't even smile. Her eyes, darker than the night itself, seem determined to pull a secret out of me.
Then I become painfully aware of how close she is… Of her warmth. Of the way she has me completely under her control.
"A-Azzi?"
It feels as though the bubble bursts. My voice has just shattered something between us. But instead of an awkward silence, laughter overtakes us both. It's entirely her fault. Before I even realize what's happening, she starts tickling my stomach. My helpless giggles quickly spill through the entire room.
"Hmm... let's see if this spot is more sensitive..." she mutters, continuing her exploration.
Then she moves to my chest. My neck. My legs.
"That can't be right," she grumbles. "You have to have a weak spot somewhere... Oh! I forgot something..."
Her hands immediately leave my thighs and wander upward. Instantly, every muscle in my body tenses. My breathing quickens, betraying me as she reaches toward my arms.
"No way... your armpits?"
"No!!" I plead at once.
She immediately bursts into a downright wicked laugh and lunges for my helpless underarms. I clamp my arms tightly against my sides with every ounce of strength I have, but she eventually finds an opening, trapping me between her thighs. The moment she does, high-pitched shrieks erupt from my throat as I desperately try to squirm free.
She only tightens her legs around me. From where I lie, she seems so impossibly tall, towering over my body as it twists helplessly in every direction. I forget everything—absolutely everything. My aching limbs. My exhaustion. My racing heart...
My loose strands of hair spread across the cold hardwood floor as tears of uncontrollable laughter stream down my cheeks.
"AAAAH, NO!" I scream between fits of laughter. "Aaaaah! Azzzz!!"
I thrash around like a woman possessed, completely consumed by hysterical laughter, but Azzi couldn't care less. If anything, she seems to delight in every laugh she steals from me. Only when my breathing becomes alarmingly ragged, when I can no longer produce a single sound, does she finally stop.
I feel as though I'm on the verge of an asthma attack, struggling desperately to catch my breath.
"If I could swallow your laughter," she says with a grin, "I'd devour every last bit of it."
✿
I was naïve.
I didn't realize that those words meant she wanted to kiss me. I couldn't see the desire in her eyes—only affection. The beginning of a deep, almost symbolic friendship. I buried my feelings for her, convinced that she would never, ever return them.
✿
December 2021
My period started two days ago, and since then, everything has felt blurry and a bit off…
... as if my emotions were raw, and the slightest little thing felt completely overwhelming. It’s a sense of vulnerability, where my body and mind are just crying out for some gentleness and a moment to slow down.
Tonight, Azzi went out to dinner with Nicole and KK. I turned down their invitation for one simple reason: it's my dad's birthday tonight. I planned to video call my parents for the occasion.
7:30 p.m.! I rush off to brush my teeth and shower so I'll be free afterward, since we'll probably end up talking until late... Once I'm done, I slip into a pair of thin shorts and an old T-shirt I found among my roommate's clothes (It obviously belongs to me because, yes, it's become a real habit of hers to steal my clothes... ahhh, but I can't really complain.)
Then I sit down on my bed, grab my phone, and call them right away.
"Hi!" I shout happily as soon as I recognize my mom's face.
Thank goodness the rooms are well insulated... I'm way too excited to spend the evening with my parents, and I tend to get pretty loud whenever I'm happy.
"Hi, baby. How are you?" she asks.
Normally, whenever she calls me that, I always correct her, but this time I let it slide.
"I'm good. Where's Dad? And Elden?"
"He's coming, he's in the kitchen. And your brother... uh... somewhere..." She sighs dramatically, making me laugh. "Are you eating well? Are you getting enough sleep? Don't push yourself too hard!"
"Yeah, yeah," I laugh. "I'm taking care of myself."
I hear muffled noises before the camera finally reveals my father's cheerful face.
"Dad!"
And I immediately start singing,
"Happy Birthday..."
My mom instantly joins in from the background while my dad pretends to cover his ears.
"Hey! You're depriving yourself of hearing our daughter's beautiful voice!" my mom scolds him, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.
I laugh along with my dad.
"You showed up just in time for dessert! Your mother bought candles... Didn't you, honey?"
"You're worse than a little girl," she mutters as she walks away.
"I want to see!”
It makes me so happy to see their faces so full of life. They give me the strength to grow here, to face the workload, the sacrifices, the mistakes... A fleeting thought crosses my mind about Azzi. She's slowly becoming part of my world too. She's becoming an anchor. Deep down, that terrifies me, and I try not to dwell on it too much. On that weakness.
My parents' phone shifts, and I realize it's my mom picking it up to film my dad standing in front of his birthday cake, glowing with candles, which she had already placed on the table.
"Happy Birth—"
But the screen suddenly goes black. Someone's calling me. It's an unknown number... I frown and immediately decline the call. I'll deal with it later. Except more calls start coming in, some from private numbers, others from visible numbers I don't recognize. None of them are in my contacts. I don't understand...
The video call with my parents has ended.
Shit.
I decline the calls, but new ones appear immediately. It never ends. I can't even get back to my home screen.
"For fuck's sake!" I shout in frustration.
Damn it... My phone number must have leaked somewhere...
Then the text messages start pouring in.
«I love you, Paige!!»
«Trash.»
« Donkey face.»
« Hey, if this is really you, please answer. I'll die if you don't reply. »
« Paige, I just wanted to tell you: I love you.»
«Answer, you rude bitch!!» «I paid to get this number!!!!»
«If only you knew all the things I dream about doing to you, Paige...»
« Go die quietly, you piece of shit.»
« P, is this really you??»
« Tell Azzi that I love her!!!!»
"Leave me alone..." I whisper, frozen before the endless stream of messages and phone calls.
I want to call my parents back. I want to see my dad again. It's his birthday. I don't want your messages, your love, or your cruelty.
Just my parents...
«You know there's a petition going around to get you kicked out of the group? We honestly don't know what you're even doing here.»
«You should start taking sports more seriously, sweet Paige.»
Why are you calling me "sweetie"? For fuck's sake, you don't even know me.
«I love you. You're gorgeous, gorgeous, so gorgeous.»
I suddenly burst into tears, letting go of my phone as it keeps ringing without stopping. I'm not even sure what I'm feeling anymore... My stomach aches, and my breathing is shaky. That's exactly why I barely ever go on social media. Because people talk about me. For good. For bad. They give strength to that voice inside my head that's been telling me from the very beginning that I'm nothing more than an impostor in this damn group.
Please... just let me find my place.
I stay there for a long time, helpless and deeply hurt, when I suddenly hear Azzi come home. Instantly, I lift my head toward her.
"Az..." I whimper, looking at her with eyes full of distress.
Azzi rushes over to me, still wearing her jacket, before dropping down onto the floor. The moment she opens her arms, I throw myself into them, crying even harder against her shoulder. I'm ashamed, ashamed of reacting like this, like a child. It's not as if this were the first time. It's not as if I didn't already know.
"Shh... P... It's going to be okay... What's wrong?" she murmurs, her voice filled with concern against my hair, now curled from my shower.
"I-I... the phone..."
I feel one of her hands leave my back to pick up my phone, which hasn't stopped ringing.
Silence.
I imagine she's reading the new messages.
"Fuck..." she whispers.
I hear hatred in her voice, a coldness unlike anything else. I don't want to know what else she has read... I hold her even tighter, and she responds by pressing a firm kiss against the top of my head, between my still-fresh curls.
"We're going to change your phone number. Don't worry… Did you get to call your parents?”
At that last question, I let out a whimper like a wounded animal.
"I was with them when it all st-started..."
"Okay. I'm going to turn off your phone and lend you mine so you can call them back. They must be worried if the call got cut off."
She gently pulls away from me, and I let her go with a sniffle. I avoid her gaze, but she lifts my chin and sinks her dark, worried eyes into mine, still glistening with tears.
"Can I leave you for a minute while I get ready for bed?"
I nod immediately.
"Wait for me here."
She immediately takes my phone, switching it off with one hand as she slips off her jacket. Once the phone is off and her jacket is put away in the closet, she places her own phone on my bedside table. Then she quietly leaves without another glance at me.
I pick up Azzi's phone while wiping away my tears. Her wallpaper is a selfie of her, KK, and me. I'm the one taking the picture. Azzi has her chin resting on my shoulder, hugging me from behind, while KK stands beside me, smiling brightly.
It's already 9:30 p.m.? How long have I been crying? Damn hormones...
I can't bring myself to call my parents. My voice would be shaking, and my eyes are probably red and irritated... I decide to text them instead.
Azzi — 9:36 p.m.
Hi, it's P. Sorry, I'm having trouble with my phone, so I borrowed Azzi's. Can we call tomorrow? She has to call her sister tonight...
I'm such a terrible liar.
XXX XXXX XXXX — 9:37 p.m.
That's too bad, sweetheart. We were wondering what had happened. That's okay, we'll call tomorrow. You have to see your dad's present! ☺️ Big kiss, my little bunny. 🐰
It's my mom...
Azzi — 9:37 p.m.
Please tell Dad I love him.
I'm so disappointed... disappointed that this moment was ruined. A few tears slip from my eyes as I try to regain control of my breathing. Why am I suddenly so overwhelmingly sensitive? Why are those strangers' words still swirling around inside my head like this? I'm stronger than this.
XXX XXXX XXXX — 9:38 p.m.
And what about me? Don't you love me? 😔
Azzi — 9:38 p.m.
Of course I do.
Azzi — 9:39 p.m.
I love you both. I miss you.
XXX XXXX XXXX — 9:40 p.m.
We miss you too! Kisses, see you tomorrow. 💕
I set the phone back down on my bedside table. I think I want to sleep with Azzi. The beds aren't double beds, but they're much wider than a regular single bed. We'd have plenty of room to sleep together.
And as if she had heard my thoughts, she comes back, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Meeting her attentive gaze, I dare to make my request.
– Azzi... Can I sleep with you?
Silence. She pulls back her duvet, her back to me... I can't see her face, and it stresses me out. Just when I think she’s going to say no, Azzi gives me a wave of her hand.
– Bring my phone, she whispers.
No sooner said than done. I place the device on her nightstand.
– Lie down, I’ll be right there.
I obey and immediately slip under the covers. The sheets smell just like her... woody and slightly sweet, like honey. I sigh with contentment and get comfortable. With my nose buried in her pillow, I hear Azzi coming back from the bathroom.
“ Pillow thief, she sighs.”
“ Bring mine back” I ask, my voice muffled by the fabric.
She does so and settles down beside me. Lying on my left side, back to the wall and facing her, I watch her profile.
“ Since it's like that, I'm taking yours.”
I instantly lift my messy head and watch her settle against my pillow. She lets her nose linger on it…
“Ugh, it smells like a goat!” she groans.
I immediately blush with embarrassment and sit up slightly.
“ Give it back, come on!” I ask her, reaching my arm out toward her.
“No!”
“ But... sorry if it doesn't smell very good.”
Azzi pushes me back against her pillow and then leans closer. Her hand props up her head as she looks down at me with a smirk.
“ It smells more like a little bunny."
“ W-what?! With those teeth, you're closer to a bunny than I am” I mutter, frowning.
“ Shh! Look” she says softly.
At those words, I blush with discomfort and close my eyes under the weight of her intense gaze. She reaches out her fingers and brushes against my nose…
“ Here, her little snout.”
...then my cheeks…
“Here, her food reserves, with her pretty dimples.”
...then my eyebrows and my eyelids, still closed, my eyelashes…
“ Here, her big, a little too expressive eyes…”
...and moves down to my chin to brush against...
“Her chin that creases when she's not happy…”
... my lips…
“ ...and makes her mouth stand out... and then there's this smile…”
Oh my god.
Could that be her breath on my lips? Suddenly, I snap my eyes open and meet those incredible almond eyes looking at me as if... as if I were everything.
“ You smell like the forest after a beautiful summer day. The fading sunlight, the flowers closing up, the river water calming down…”
“ Stop” I whisper.
“What?”
“This…”
“ This what?"
I don't know…
Faced with my silence, Azzi moves even closer. She rests her nose against my cheek, then wanders across my face, breathing in my flushed skin, while one hand slides into my hair. Her lips brush against my ear, then kiss it. I let out a soft sound, like a high-pitched purr.
My god, Azzi…
And suddenly, she places her lips right at the corner of mine. I catch my breath.
"Paige..." she whispers.
"Azzi..."
I feel like I'm begging her. I want more.
Her hand slides from my hair to my cheek, which she caresses gently, then to my neck and my shoulder, exposed by the wide neckline of the t-shirt.
She kisses my skin there, and I breathe again. Much too fast. Her lips are so soft, so tender... As they drift toward my neck, I surrender completely, head back, submissive to this unexpected delight.
Suddenly, her tongue traces the bone of my clavicle. I grow restless, sighing and moaning at the same time, completely out of control. What is happening? Her lips on my throat... They are burning hot, they make me shiver.
"Azzi..."
But just when I thought she was going to... going to go deeper, she pulls away from me.
I open my eyes again and turn my head toward her, short of breath, my cheeks flushing crimson. I hope she can't see them too well, despite the dim light cast by her bedside lamp.
Azzi faces me, lying on her right side, her head on my pillow. Her gaze unbalances me.
"We need to talk."
My eyes drift to her lips. I want... to bite them.
"Stop, please," she says.
"Sorry."
Azzi takes a breath. I feel the atmosphere slowly shift.
"Did you call your parents?"
"I wrote to them..."
"Okay."
I can tell she's preparing herself as she licks her lips. I'm scared…
"You know..." Azzi begins, rolling onto her back.
She is beautiful. The soft light shapes her profile so perfectly… I want to draw her. First, there would be her large dark eyes, which I can never fully decipher.
Sometimes, they frighten me. But her smile always reassures me.
As if she felt my gaze, Azzi turns her head toward me and smiles tenderly.
"We're going to do this differently."
"W-what?" I whisper.
I finally understand when she moves closer to me and tells me to turn around. I obey immediately as she presses her chest against my back and places her left hand on my stomach.
"No... not the stomach, please," I ask timidly.
It’s not that it bothers me, to be honest. But rather that it distracts me. It sends my emotions soaring.
"Sorry," she breathes against the skin of my neck while her chin tries to settle on my shoulder.
Her fingers move away from the sensitive area and come to play with one of my hands.
"Your gaze distracts me too much, and I want to have a serious discussion with you..." she admits.
I swallow, and, inevitably, she notices.
"You don't have to be afraid. I think we've both come a long way. And I hope I can talk to you, just like you can talk to me... Unless you're more comfortable with one of the other girls."
"No! I mean," I start again more softly, "with you, it's great."
I still dread the subject of this conversation. The calls and texts have already left me feeling raw. They put me in a state of deep vulnerability, so internally, I fear the damage Azzi could inflict on me, without necessarily meaning to.
"Ever since you joined the group, the girls and I have always thought you were shy, very reserved... Personally, it never bothered me because I think I'm a reserved person too. It's just that... it feels like you're constantly stopping yourself from talking, from talking to us, and I don't understand why. We're here for you, P. We want to help you."
"I don't—"
"Please, let me finish. I just want to apologize."
My eyes widen.
"KK is my best friend. When she lost control, I thought you were a bad influence on her, that you were the one who had put the idea in her head to stop eating. But I was wrong." Her voice trembles slightly.
"I still think the two of you made mistakes... But we should have... I should have taken a step back. I should have realized that you were suffering too. But... but I didn't see it. I was blind... We had only just come out of our teenage years, and I... I didn't see any of it," she repeats.
I hold back my tears as hard as I can. Deep down, I'm grateful that she chose this position because I don't want her to see how emotional I am.
"I feel so stupid for having blamed you so much. Little by little, as I got to know you better, I realized how desperately you needed affection. How deeply all of this was affecting you, and how much you needed someone to support you... And what did we do? We took KK away from you... But we were scared for both of you, P. We were really scared. Nika and Caroline... they were so worried. And Aubrey was too."
I think back to that conversation between Aubrey and Azzi... To Azzi's words, to the way she had neglected me back then, and to the friendship that, despite everything, slowly grew stronger over time.
I tuck my chin down and squeeze my eyes shut, doing everything I can to hold back the lump rising in my throat, threatening to spill over. As if she can sense my distress, Azzi gently strokes the palm of my hand with her thumb while holding it between her fingers.
"And me... I thought you had developed some kind of unhealthy obsession with KK. Always glued to her, constantly inspiring each other, matching your training schedule to hers, drawing her all the time... But I should have realized that you were lonely, that you needed someone. I know this world, Paige. I was practically born into this industry."
As she speaks, the memories play behind my closed eyelids.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
"Stop..." I finally manage to say, my voice cracking with pain.
"Please forgive me, P…”
Then the inevitable happens. I feel it in the tears that begin to roll down my cheeks before dying against the sheets. At my first sniffle, Azzi presses a kiss to my jaw, then to my neck, right at the nape beneath my hair. It feels like I'm wrapped together with her inside a cocoon of warmth. And yet, my heart aches, because by being so gentle, she's reopening my wound.
"Talk to me... please..."
I breathe in uneven bursts, trying to steady my breathing and keep my emotions from overwhelming me. Azzi is waiting for an answer, and I owe her one. I keep my sentences short so I don't lose myself in the flood of everything I've been keeping inside.
"Ever since the beginning... I-I've struggled... to feel like I belong. To feel like I deserve my place in the group. And KK... KK was kind of my anchor because, in a way, she was a lot like me. I felt useless, so useless, but she..."
I stop, out of breath, because I've gotten a little too carried away.
My own boldness surprises me when I take her hand and place it against my chest, over my heart. She immediately laces our fingers together, and somehow that gives me enough strength to keep going. Not having to look at her makes it easier to tell her everything I've been feeling all this time.
"KK and Nicole encouraged me from the very beginning. They never stopped complimenting me, telling me I was incredible, hardworking, and talented. You did too, of course, but you intimidated me. They reassured me. They gave me confidence in myself. Very quickly, KK became more affectionate, more caring, more dependable... I ended up clinging to her. Maybe too much... All I wanted was for us to stay together. I feel so guilty... She didn't need someone like me weighing her down, I—"
"No, stop. That's not true. KK has always adored you. Believe me, that distance after I got angry and everything that followed... she suffered through it just as much. Ever since the beginning. She blames herself terribly because she's convinced she was becoming a danger to you."
"She was never a danger!" I snap immediately.
The thought that anyone could believe KK was harmful to anyone makes me sick.
"Shh... calm down, baby..."
"Baby"...? It's the first time she's ever called me that.
Azzi pulls me even closer into her arms.
"I hate seeing you cry... Those beautiful blue eyes," she confesses against my neck. "You weren't made for melancholy..."
"Please... stop..." I plead, my voice heavy with pain.
I can't deny it anymore: she's making a move on me. And I can't believe I'm pushing her away. Why? Isn't this what I've secretly dreamed of all along? I don't know how to react because I never imagined I'd find myself in this situation one day.
"Then why? You don't want me?"
So that's really what this is about.
The fact that she confirms it only makes the panic inside me grow. If I had any doubts, Azzi just kicked them away for good. It's true that we've grown closer, that I kept feeling her gaze on me more and more often, her hands on me. Then came the nicknames... the teasing... the little gestures...
This conversation is slipping away from me.
"B-but... Just look at yourself! Look at yourself, and then look at me..."
"I've been looking at you for quite a while now..." she chuckles against my hair.
I try to ignore the warmth spreading through my stomach and absentmindedly play with her hand while I speak.
"What I'm trying to tell you is that... sometimes I feel a little lost in the group. I'm not always sure I deserve my place among all of you. You're all so incredible, so beautiful and talented..."
"Our number one fangirl! You're going to make me blush," Azzi laughs softly against the skin just beneath my ear.
That simple gesture sends butterflies soaring through me. My cheeks grow warm.
"Stop interrupting me," I grumble. "I let you talk."
"Sorry."
"I admire all of you so much," I continue. "And I constantly feel like I'm not enough, like I'm just a little girl who's only here because of certain... 'privileges.' I-I... I don't even think I'm pretty. Everything scares me. The expectations, my shortcomings, the fans... they idolize me and treat me like some kind of phenomenon, but I'm not sure I can be that. Or even that I want to be. I feel like everyone expects so much from me... the agency, the staff, the fans... Sometimes... I hate them."
The moment the words leave my lips, I realize how awful they sound, and I immediately blush with embarrassment.
"I'm horrible for saying that."
Azzi sighs.
"No, you're not."
Her hand slips away for a moment as she brushes a stray strand of hair away from her face, then settles back against me. I immediately catch it as if it belongs to me, earning a quiet laugh from her. Then her expression softens, and she continues more seriously.
"Keep this between us, but honestly... I don't really care that much about the fans. I'm not saying their happiness or the admiration in their eyes doesn't touch me, but I always remember that they also have the power to destroy us. We do this for ourselves, Paige, before anyone else. Never forget that. You come first. Not them."
I'm stunned by her confession. Beneath the surface, Azzi is incredibly private. We both are, but she has this intimidating presence that keeps people from burying her under endless questions. Some subjects are almost never brought up with her because she has this physical ability to say no. Just with her body. With her eyes.
"And as for what happened tonight..."
Her voice turns low and deep, a sign that she's angry.
"Don't think about it anymore. Tomorrow we'll buy you a new phone and a new SIM card with a different number. Use mine until then."
"I'd like to call my parents tomorrow."
"Anything you want, treasure."
"Treasure."
"Stop..."
She ignores my quiet plea, playfully nibbling my earlobe.
"Oh, and one more thing... I think you put yourself down far too much. Nicole is incredibly proud of your dancing, the others admire your courage and your strength. You inspire all of us. It's normal to be afraid—we all feel the same way... And personally, I think you're unbelievably talented. You're like our own perfect little diva... although you do work a little too hard."
I think back to our work sessions together in the beginning. That was the first thing Azzi liked about me: how serious and dedicated I was.
"And wait... maybe I misheard you, but... you don't think you're beautiful enough? I'm sorry, but I'm taking you to an ophthalmologist first thing tomorrow."
A laugh escapes me as I let go of our intertwined hands to wipe away the tear stains on my face. As I move, I feel Azzi shift above me. She plants one hand beside my face, making me feel even more enclosed.
"You really are beautiful, you know."
I bite my lip, hiding my face behind my hands.
"Stop..." I say, my voice muffled.
But Azzi immediately climbs over me and gently lays me back against the mattress. I don't move my hands away from my face.
"Move your hands."
"No.”
She eventually grabs my wrists and gently pulls my hands away by force.
My face must look terribly red and swollen from all my crying...
Azzi smiles immediately, a hint of mischief on her lips. She's so beautiful... Her lips are pink, full like the petals of a freshly bloomed rose. As she leans closer, her nose brushes against mine while I drown in her gaze.
"You're..."
Silence wraps itself around us. The silence is deafening this close to me.
"You're so beautiful."
My breathing quickens. Her words fluster me so much that I'm forced to look away. And when her question finally leaves her lips, my heart comes to a complete stop.
"Would you let me kiss you?"
I...
The surprise steals my breath away, and I search for her eyes. They're fixed on my slightly parted lips. I nervously wet them, and I see something flicker across her gaze. I never imagined she could look at me with such intensity. But I love this brunette far too much... this utterly captivating brunette...
I'm completely overwhelmed. I don't know what to say. I never thought she'd ask me something like this. Just imagining her lips on mine makes me feel as though I'm melting from the inside out.
I want it. I tell her with my eyes. It's easier for me. For us. More natural, I think.
Then her hands come to rest against my cheeks as her eyes capture mine. My warm, uneven breath meets hers, steady and calm. Then I feel the gentle pressure against my lips. She kisses me... She kisses me as though I were a fragile flower bud. A surge of electricity races through me.
Her lips kiss mine again, a little longer this time. Then her tongue swipes over them. Oh my god. I don't realize what is happening. My heart is racing.
My very first kiss…
"Paige, fuck..." she whispers against my wet lips while her fingers caress my cheeks. "Your mouth is so shiny. You are… you are…"
I… Her words… It's as if she has suddenly been set free.
Because the next kiss is nothing sweet or delicate anymore. It is voracious.
When she kisses me this time, it's with a troubling urgency, as if she fears I might disappear. Masterful, she crashes onto my mouth with violence and sweeps me up into a total whirlwind. Her lips devour mine with a contagious passion, and I immediately try to follow her lead.
But this is my first kiss. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to breathe.
I finally open my mouth to catch my breath as best as I can. And her tongue takes the opportunity to slip between my parted lips, which crave her even more. When her warm, wet tongue meets mine, I let out a moan that surprises even me. God, this should make me feel self-conscious... But I don't care. I feel possessed by a desire that had been asleep since... Since when, exactly?
Our lips kiss, our tongues caress each other like two lovers desperate to never part. I love feeling the fullness of her lips closing over mine. I am flying.
And above all, I moan. Against her mouth, which I keep kissing clumsily. But with that youthful devotion—the devotion of a young girl in love.
Her teeth catch my lower lip while her hands slide to my neck, holding it firmly. My fingers slide into her hair, messing it up. I try to stop the exchange, but it is so difficult. She seems starved,
uncontrollable... I'm so hot... My stomach is on fire. Fuck, I'm on my period, too.
"Az... Azzi... St... st...op"
My words are broken up by her repeated assaults, but she understands them instantly because she pulls back.
"Are you okay?" she asks me, out of breath.
"Yeah... I j-just couldn't breathe anymore..."
I reply, staring at her apologetically, my breathing completely erratic. Azzi moves closer to my face again, softened by my expression.
"If that's all it is..."
Then she presses repeated, distinct kisses on my half-open lips. Sometimes, she kisses my teeth or my chin, making me laugh softly.
"I like it..." I confess to her, blushing.
"Baby…”
She is so gentle…
"Stop..."
"What, you don't like it?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
And I look away.
"Oh, you do..."
The rest completely escapes me.
"Go out with me."
What? My eyes widen.
"You're crazy..."
"No, I'm serious."
She's lost her mind...
"We can't..."
"Why?" she asks without missing a beat.
Because... we're girls... And we're part of a girl group, in case that somehow slipped your mind," I laugh bitterly.
"I don't care. I really don't. I want to be with you."
✿
At first, yes, she didn't care.
I didn't say yes to her request. Not right away.
She accepted my hesitation, and I'll always be grateful to her for that, because she understood that I needed time. As much as I had always admired her, my feelings for her had only ever been platonic until then, and all of this was simply too new for me. Her affection was more than enough, and I couldn't even imagine our relationship taking this turn.
The girls never knew how it all began.
Because it belonged to us, and we were literally creating an entire world around ourselves. It was just her and me. We spent the following weeks kissing like two teenagers discovering love together and drowning in it like fools. In truth, she had a little more experience… I could tell. So it was really me discovering all of this. I was always hungry for her: for her lips, her scent, her smiles, her touch...
The time we spent together became softer, more lingering, and less innocent... Filled with our passionate, eager kisses and our wandering hands. In those moments, I did my very best to make Azzi lose her head... I was afraid she'd be put off by my lack of experience.
Strangely enough, she seemed to like it.
✿
March 2021
Tonight, the girls aren't home, which is really rare for Azzi and me. I mean, being alone together like this.
Curled up on my bed with my back resting against her chest, we're watching a movie. Or rather, she's making me watch a movie with her. Every now and then, I squirm around just to annoy her—mostly by deliberately blocking the screen with my head. She hates it when I do that, but unfortunately for her, I'm feeling especially playful tonight.
"You're such a child," she murmurs against the back of my neck. "Will you stay still already?"
I feel her arms tighten around my waist.
"Ugh, this movie sucks..." I complain, trying to wriggle free from her embrace. "Let me do something else."
"Be quiet and watch."
Seriously... has she mistaken me for her teddy bear?
I let my head fall back onto her shoulder and bury my face in her neck. Her skin is so warm, so soft. Without thinking, I kiss it. Intoxicated by her rich, woody scent with its faint hint of honey, my nose wanders over her skin...
I stay there for a few silent seconds, completely still, while she absentmindedly plays with the hem of my T-shirt.
Growing impatient with her silence—she must be completely absorbed in the movie—I let my lips trail gently down her throat until my teeth lightly graze the tender skin. My tongue follows. When I finally pull away, I let out a slow breath against her neck.
She loves giving me hickeys, even though we try not to leave too many marks, just to avoid making the girls suspicious. (Though I'm pretty sure KK already suspects something.) As for me, I rarely return the favor.
Tonight, I want to leave my mark on her.
I resume my little mission, melting even closer against her body before finally pulling away, satisfied with my handiwork.
As my damp lips reach the line of her jaw, I feel her melt against me. At last, her hands slip beneath my T-shirt, resting against my stomach, circling lazily around my navel, and it leaves me completely weak. I feel like I'm trembling beneath her palms. A soft whimper escapes me, and I smother it against her skin as I gently nip at it.
"Paige..."
The sound of her sigh makes me want more.
I decide to turn around and kiss her, but as I move, I feel her body press more warmly — more intimately — against my hips. Somehow, my body doesn't even flinch at the realization. She's obviously turned on... and I'm not even scared.
Usually, whenever I feel us getting too close to the point of no return, I always make it clear that I don't want to go any further. Partly out of modesty, partly out of fear... a hesitation she's never once complained about.
But right now, she seems completely lost in the moment. And me… l'm different. I'm not afraid.
Once I'm facing her, I cup her face and breathe softly against the underside of her jaw, the one I've mercilessly tormented with my lips. I kiss the spot gently. Meanwhile, her hands slide beneath my thighs. As I pull away from her skin, letting a quiet moan melt against her flesh, her soft voice sends a wave of shivers through my entire body.
"My angel..."
God, those words… She's insane. She drives me insane.
I let her calm down, torn by hesitation. Our bodies are pressed so tightly together that I can feel her heart beating against mine.
"Do you want me to—"
"No..."
She opens her eyes again and places a chaste kiss on my lips, then on the little patch of skin just beneath them. Her smile reassures me.
Azzi slips out of our embrace, and once she's on her feet, she says,
"I need a minute to pull myself together. I'll be back."
I don't know why a flicker of panic rises in my chest as I watch her head toward the bathroom.
"Wait..." I whisper, catching hold of her wrist.
She turns to look at me, her expression questioning. My face is burning — I can feel the heat in my cheeks — and I have to admit... my breathing has grown a little faster.
At that exact moment, something flashes through her eyes. Something burning. Contagious, even. Because I'm certain the very same fire is slowly consuming both of us.
I know she knows the effect she has on me.
Her gaze drifts over my body, lingering on my stomach, my ribs, the hollow of my waist. The effect is immediately — I feel completely struck by desire. Her desire.
"Stay... please."
The invitation sounds more like a command. Even I surprise myself. Azzi arches an eyebrow and lightly bites her lip. Maybe she likes this boldness, this faintly defiant side of me. Her eyes settle on my lips, still flushed and swollen.
"Paige..." she protests, lifting her gaze back to mine.
"Come here... come hold me, Azzi..."
A quiet laugh escapes her as she runs a hand through her hair, her eyes briefly darting away.
"I want to... Well... I mean, not all the way, but..."
Silence.
I can't bring myself to finish the sentence or explain what I mean. The mere thought of embarrassing myself in front of her has stolen my voice completely.
What's gotten into me?
Usually, I always let her be the one to put an end to moments like this. She's always respected that—that reserve I've never tried to hide.
But tonight… Everything feels different.
Shyly, I pull back the covers, revealing my bare legs.
"Come here…”
My eyes try to tell her everything I can't put into words—every ounce of desire I feel, every flicker of curiosity consuming me.
Suddenly, Azzi lets go of all resistance.
"You're so beautiful..." she whispers as she melts into my embrace.
"You're the beautiful one..." I can't help but answer as I gently roll her onto her back. Now I'm above her.
Our bodies come together all at once, and I become aware of everything. Every single thing. Even the dampness in my underwear.
Her breath brushes the nape of my neck like a ribbon of fire trailing down my spine. My long fingers trace the curve of her hips.
Her bare chest, her hardened nipples, lightly graze my own. I feel her lips against my cheek, my forehead, my nose... then my mouth.
I love kissing her, tasting her, belonging to her, and making her mine. Our kiss grows uneven, betrayed by her restless movements. I realize she's undressing, and I fumble to do the same.
Who am I? I barely recognize myself anymore.
Without warning, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me close. And for the very first time, I feel her naked body against mine. It's wonderful. It's almost too much for me.
Azzi gently nibbles at my shoulder, as though she's getting used to the intimacy of our bare skin touching. One of her hands strokes my hair while the other settles at my waist. Then she holds me tightly — so tightly that I can feel all of her.
A moment later, she rolls me onto my back. The mattress catches me with a soft breath. She lifts herself slightly, her stomach pressed against mine, and the contact nearly makes my knees give out. Her hand leaves my tangled hair and drifts lower. She murmurs things into my ear that only feed the blazing heat burning inside me.
Her blunt honesty stirs something deep within me, and I let out a shaky breath beneath the weight of the desire steadily building inside me.
"So irresistible..."
Her hand glides over my thigh. I shiver at the featherlight, electrifying touch. She explores my body, teaching me, caressing me. My fingers are clumsy reflections of hers at first, but little by little, they begin to understand... to anticipate. They become an extension of my heart. The pleasure builds, slowly.
I think… This isn't just attraction anymore.
"Paige..." Azzi whispers before lowering herself to kiss my stomach.
Shaken by that act of surrender, an act of pure devotion, I watch her. My eyes lose themselves in hers, drowning in that sea of black and brown.
Then a faint smile curves her lips, and I mirror it without thinking, because it's beautiful, because I love it. Because I love her.
Firmly pinned against the mattress, there's no escaping. Not that I'd ever want to. For the first time, I discover what it truly feels like to be with her—just her.
I close my eyes, lose all sense of direction, and surrender to the sensations consuming my body, setting my skin alight, drawing exhausted moans from my lips. I feel myself yielding beneath the overwhelming force of our mutual attraction, a force so powerful it demands complete surrender.
Suddenly, a wave of paralyzing pleasure surges through me, tearing a cry from my throat. My head falls back, completely limp, as my body arches instinctively beneath her. She clings to me even tighter, breathing hard against me, her forehead resting against mine, our breaths tangled together.
She presses a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. Then her lips drift to my cheek, lingering there against my soft skin.
I wish time would stop.
✿
That moment marked the beginning of countless others.
It was as though we'd opened Pandora's box, and desire came rushing after us at full speed, as if we were endlessly starving for one another. Strangely enough, we never talked about it.
Our longing unfolded in the darkness and in silence, interrupted only by our soft moans, a few affectionate nicknames, and whispered, teasing invitations.
We were powerless against that whirlwind of uncontrollable, ever-growing emotions.
My feelings for her had become a storm.
And I wanted her to feel exactly the same way. But I wasn't sure she did. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would ever say it.
That was simply who she was.
Looking back on it now, I was so foolish not to see it.
✿
June 2022
I push open the door to my room, exhausted. Lately, my drawing classes have been demanding so much energy. But I refuse to give up because it's my only other passion outside the group. Our professors expect us to be available and responsive at all times. At the same time, the pace at Raven Hearts is just as intense, and I'm having an incredibly hard time balancing my two lives... My grades have slipped a little recently. For the perfectionist hard worker that I am, seeing my efforts fall short like this is a real blow.
When I walk into the room, I greet Azzi with a wave. She's on a video call with her mom.
I try to put away my art supplies without making too much noise so I won't disturb them. Then I collapse onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I finally grab my phone to read the few texts I've received since earlier. Oh? There's one from Jess.
Jesse — 7:13 p.m.
Made it home?
Me — 7:34 p.m.
Yeah. You?
Jesse — 7:35 p.m.
Yep 😊 Hey, would you like to go to an exhibition sometime soon? There's a new artist from Japan... Apparently, their work is pretty... unusual?
I immediately bite my lip, deep in thought. Going out with a guy and risking ending up under the spotlight? I really don't need that right now.
Me — 7:38 p.m.
That'd be really cool, but I'm not sure it's such a great idea...
Jesse — 7:38 p.m.
Why?
Why? asks our co-manager. I can't believe him. The answer seems more than obvious to me. I think his crush on Azzi has fried the last few brain cells he had left.
"You're not much different yourself," my conscience murmurs sarcastically.
Quiet up there!
I hear Azzi close her laptop and come over to my bed. She climbs over me, presses a warm kiss to the back of my neck while whispering, "Hey, you," then flops down on her stomach beside me.
I answer absentmindedly while continuing to stare at my screen.
Jesse — 7:40 p.m.
Then we could go to a quieter museum instead. Or somewhere else.
"I didn't know he had a thing for you."
I immediately lift my head and stare at Azzi while she keeps her eyes fixed on my screen.
He's the one who's crushing on you, yes! Whenever I hang out with Jess, he keeps going on and on about how perfect Azzi is, blah, blah, blah...
But she doesn't need to know that.
"Hey, that's private, you know!" I tease, but she doesn't react. "He's definitely not into me," I add.
"I think he is. He always asks you to partner up with him for group projects. And he just asked you out."
"So?" I ask. "That doesn't mean anything..."
"He got you a Valentine's Day gift..."
"That still doesn't mean anything. Anyone can give gifts to the people they're close to around Valentine's Day, and you know that. You got chocolates yourself from both the girls and the guys on the staff."
"Paige, he gave you more than chocolates. He baked your favorite cake, and he knitted you a scarf! Did he think he was starring in some cheesy romance movie or what..." she sighs, lying back on the bed.
Well, to be completely honest, that scarf had originally been meant for Azzi. As for the cake... okay, I lied. Just a tiny little bit about her favorite dessert so that he'd end up making my favorite cake instead.
I really like Jesse. He's kind and a little clumsy, but there was no way I was going to give my girl a Valentine's Day cake that had come from another person!
Anyway... she doesn't need to know that either.
Propped up on my forearms, I watch her silently as she rubs the bridge of her nose, her brows knitted together. Her beauty still leaves me speechless every single time. She looks like a fallen angel, and all I'd have to do is lean forward to press my lips against hers...
"So... are you going to accept his invitation?" she suddenly asks.
"Of course not," I reply. "Are you crazy? If the media saw us—"
She immediately turns her head toward me.
"Wait... you'd only refuse because of the cameras?"
"Well... he's my closest friend outside of you girls."
"And what about Hana?"
Hana is a classmate from my drawing course.
"That's different. She's been acting weird ever since the group became more famous..."
Azzi lets out an irritated sigh.
"What?" I ask.
Silence.
"Nothing."
Should I push? I can clearly tell she's upset, but I don't want to bother her any further.
"It's just... I don't want you going out with him," she finally admits.
"He's our co-manager!"
Who's hopelessly in love with you, by the way.
She simply shrugs, and I smile faintly.
"So... you see him as a threat?" I eventually ask.
"Should I?"
"Never," I answer without hesitation.
She flashes me a teasing smile.
"You sound pretty confident..."
She raises a hand to my face, absentmindedly brushing her fingers over my eyebrows, an affectionate smile resting on her lips.
"That's because I am."
Azzi's hand slides down to my cheek before pinching it a little too hard.
"Ow!" I complain.
"I want you..."
I freeze instantly as Azzi's fingers gently take hold of my chin, turning my face toward hers. Her eyes settle on my lips.
"Then come here..." I invite her.
I give her a gentle smile that seems to leave her frozen in place. Moments like these are when I try to show her, without words, just how much she means to me.
✿
The girls eventually found out. It went very badly.
KK was barely surprised. Honestly, I had the feeling the news secretly made her happy. Caroline and Aubrey immediately accused Azzi of manipulating me, treating her like some reckless little girl, while Nika watched with obvious disapproval. I defended her as best I could, but it was like talking to a wall. Clearly, I wasn't part of the conversation, and they didn't hesitate to talk as if I wasn't even there.
"How long has this been going on?" Aubrey asked.
"Almost a year."
I thought Azzi was taking it surprisingly well compared to Caroline, who had started yelling that our "teenage nonsense" was eventually going to get me killed.
"God damn it, Azzi, you know how this industry works! Does your mother know? What the hell are you two thinking?"
Caroline could be such a drama queen sometimes. She exaggerated everything. And I think I broke Jess's heart a little. But I couldn't help it.
At the time, I was already nineteen and only a few months away from turning twenty. I was responsible, independent, and mature. To me, their reactions felt like an insult to everything I'd worked so hard for. I was tired of being treated like someone fragile, someone who could be manipulated so easily all the time. As if I wasn't capable of making my own decisions.
That day, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
Nicole and KK were an incredible source of support for me. Since everyone's attention was focused on Azzi and me becoming a couple, the three of us naturally ended up spending more time together. And it did me so much good to rediscover them. We started hanging out together again.
Surprisingly, the rest of the girls eventually accepted my relationship with Azzi. The staff did too, in a way, although nothing could ever show on the outside. "Pazzi" was only supposed to exist as fan service.
That unforgettable argument quickly became nothing more than a bad memory to me. I had no idea what was about to happen next. Because the girls' words — words I'd already forgotten — would plant a dangerous seed in Azzi's mind.
A single idea.
We’ve finally reached the end of Part 2! This is a very important part because we get to learn a bit more about Paige, and about Azzi too, in a way. To be honest, I hesitated a lot about including a flashback in the story, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out.
Feel free to ask any questions about the characters!
