S💗

Azzi felt her breath stop. She wasn’t just too close to Paige anymore; together, they were hovering right on the edge of a truth that had remained unspoken for the past few months.  There was something going on between them, something more than just acquaintanceship, rehabilitation work, or friendship. Azzi liked being around Paige more than any of those labels should grant. Every Tuesday she fixed her clothes and touched up her makeup before she would head down to the clinic floor at 6.00. She stopped packing her healthy meal prep lunches so that she’d have an excuse to go out for lunch, and if she ended up eating with a certain blonde it was just purely coincidence. 

But, Azzi also knew two other very important things. The first being that everyone liked being around Paige. Everyone, whether they’d admit it or not, wanted Paige’s attention. Everyone wanted to bathe in her sunlight. Even Caroline, who constantly complained about the crumbs Paige left on the physio beds, could never manage a convincing scowl when Paige smiled at her. So, Azzi had rationalized that what she was feeling was just the inevitable, unavoidable effect of the classic Paige charm. This theory was certainly supported by the second thing Azzi knew: all of her past relationships were with men, and so Azzi Fudd is definitely not a lesbian.

"Caroline told me about UConn," Paige whispered, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. "I’m so damn proud of you. I literally cried while she was telling me."

Azzi stared at her for a fraction of a second. Paige is crying, Paige Bueckers who Azzi has only seen cry once in the entirety of the past nine months is crying, is crying for Azzi. 

‘Ah’ Azzi thinks, a sudden realization hitting her, ‘maybe Paige is drowning too.’

Her need for distance completely dissipates, replaced by the need to be as close as possible, to grab Paige's body and consequently give her something she can float with. She throws her arms around Paige’s neck, pulling her in so tightly she hinders her own breathing.

"Loser," she whispered into Paige’s ear, her voice thick with emotion. "Can't believe you cried" and she really can't believe that she cried or that she’s crying again. 

When did this happen? When did they get close enough, when did they start caring so much? Was it in the 5 minutes they got during each of the appointments? Or was it in their shared lunches? Or maybe their more recent texting? Or maybe it was four years ago, when she met a beautiful stranger who spilled ketchup on her favourite jacket in a trashy bar.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Paige, open the door!”

The sudden, aggressive pounding on the front door shattered the silence. They broke apart instantly, blinking against the sudden rush of cool air between them.

Azzi wiped her face quickly, her heart hammering against her ribs as she looked toward the entryway. “Were you expecting someone?” Azzi asked.

————————

Paige wasn’t expecting Azzi to show up at the middle of the night (though she’s definitely not complaining that she did), and she sure as hell was not expecting Zoe to be standing outside of her door black out drunk. Or High. Well whatever sent her to the stars, she was definitely there. She looked like she could barely stand straight. For the first time since knowing her, Paige actually thought Zoe looked like she genuinely needed one of her stupid wellness retreats.

“Zoe,” Paige said, her voice dropping into a tense, but baffled tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Paige I need help” said Zoe while stumbling across the threshold, she bypassed Paige and face planted directly onto the living room couch. 

Paige closed the front door slowly. ‘What is my life right now?’

“Zoe what’s going on? What happened? Why are you so drunk… or high?

“My life is over…I’ve been spiritually, mentally, and physically assassinated” Zoe wailed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling with wide and glassy eyes. “My dad found out about my offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. I was moving funds from the company to finance this crystal-infused matcha start up…and apparently, it’s illegal”

Paige blinked, her jaw dropping. “Illegal? Like…a tax loophole”

“Illegal like money laundering, Paige!" Zoe gasped, sitting up dramatically. “My dad didn't want to send me to jail, but he fired me. He took away my black card, froze my checking accounts, and I can't even open my penthouse doors. My code doesn’t work anymore. I just spent my last dollars on cheap tequila.”

Azzi slowly walked out of the kitchen, her arms crossed, staring at her former business partner in absolute disbelief. “Wait. You got caught money laundering?”

Zoe’s head snapped toward the kitchen, finally noticing her. “Azzi! Thank god you're here.” Instead of being shocked to see her ex-partner at her ex-girlfriend's apartment at 11:00 PM, Zoe just pointed a desperate finger at her. “Can you help me? Do I… do I have any more equity left in Revite? Anything at all?”

“The equity you sold three months ago?” Azzi deadpanned. “No, Zo. You sold it all. You signed the paperwork.”

Zoe let out a tragic, breathless sigh, slapping her hands against her forehead. “Oh my gosh, this is a nightmare.” Her face suddenly turned a slight shade of green, and she gripped her stomach. “I need to go to the bathroom and puke for a second.”

She scrambled off the couch, running a hand over her face as she stumbled blindly toward the hallway bathroom, slamming the door behind her. A second later, the distinct sound of retching echoed down the hall.

Azzi stood frozen in the center of the living room. Slowly, her head turned toward Paige.

Paige was already staring back at her, her blue eyes wide, her hands hovering awkwardly at her sides. The heavy, romantic tension that had been suffocating the kitchen just five minutes ago was completely vaporized, replaced by sheer absurdity.

Azzi let out a breath, her voice a flat, stunned whisper. “I worked with a money launderer.”

Paige’s shoulders began to shake as a breathless laugh bubbled up her throat. “I dated a money launderer.”

They stared at each other for one more silent second before both of them completely lost it. Paige clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her wheezing laughs, bending over at the waist, while Azzi covered her face, her shoulders shaking with silent, hysterical laughter.

“She laundered money for matcha,” Paige hissed through her fingers, her eyes watering all over again. 

“Crystal-infused matcha!” Azzi whispered back fiercely.

Azzi left shortly after. The apartment had felt entirely too crowded, and she felt like she needed to give Paige and Zoe some space.

By the time she unlocked the door to her own place, the adrenaline had faded. She pulled out her phone, staring at the screen for a long moment before finally sending a text.

Azzi: yyou survive the criminal?

The reply came almost instantly.

Paige: barely. she threw up agaan :(

Paige: she’s stayin in the guest room. says shes gonna be here for like a muonth until she can sell her stock in some other randim company and get her footing back.

Azzi stared at the bubbles as they popped up and vanished.

Paige: az? you still awake?

Azzi didn't reply. She tossed her phone onto the nightstand, sliding into bed and staring up at the dark ceiling. The silence of her room felt deafening compared to the chaos that was Paige's apartment.

She lay there, the wheels in her mind turning relentlessly, tracking backward through the years.

It was easy to laugh at Zoe now, to joke about the crystal-infused matcha and the Cayman Islands, but as Azzi stared into the dark, a wave of reality hit her. Zoe wasn't a bad person. In fact, when Azzi was at her absolute lowest, right after her second injury at UConn, Zoe had been the only one who looked at her and saw potential. Every investor in New York had slammed the door in Azzi's face when she tried to pitch Revite. They saw a twenty-something girl with a ruined knee and a pipe dream.

But Zoe had listened. Zoe had been genuinely interested, and Zoe had signed the check that breathed life into Azzi's dream.

I owe her everything, Azzi realized, the thought sinking like a stone in her stomach. Revite wouldn't exist without Zoe. And now, Zoe was in a genuinely hard position, stripped of her family's wealth, her job, and her home.

Azzi rolled onto her side, swallowing hard. It didn't matter if Paige and Zoe were completely over. It didn't matter if they weren't in love anymore, or if Paige had been looking at Azzi with an intensity that made her knees weak. Zoe was her friend, her co-founder, the person who saved her career. Stepping into Paige's space, letting herself feel whatever was blooming between them…it just wasn't right. 

And besides, she was lying to herself if she thought she even fit Paige's type.

The last person Paige Bueckers had chosen to date was Zoe Fernandez. Azzi brought up a mental image of them together, and the contrast was staggering. Zoe was high-fashion, high-maintenance, and apparently, a white-collar criminal. Compared to all that, Azzi was, well, boring. She was absolutely, nothing like Zoe.

Azzi still didn't entirely understand how Paige and Zoe had come to be together in the first place, but the fact remained: Zoe was the standard. There was no way Paige could ever look at Azzi the way she had looked at a girl like Zoe.

Azzi closed her eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath into the quiet room. The text thread on her phone stayed dark. Azzi needed ease, questioning her sexuality, questiong her feelings for Paige, and questioning the complication of Zoe; was nowhere near easy. So she pushed her phone further from her and pulled up her blanket.

It was better this way. Whatever unsaid truth had been hovering between her and Paige in that kitchen, it had to stay unsaid. There could never really be anything between them.

————————

“I’m telling you, I’ve officially lost my goddamn mind,” Paige groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

She was sitting on the bench at the edge of the practice court, her tennis racket abandoned beside her. Across from her stood Nika, her performance coach and long-time friend. After nine grueling months of physical rehab, Paige was finally back on the court training with Nika again.

Nika crossed her arms and looked down at Paige with a mix of irritation and amusement, truly a rare combo only Nika could manage. “You’ve also lost all fucking your talent apparently, you haven't been able to hit baseline all morning, whats going on?”

“It’s Azzi,” Paige confessed, her voice muffled by her palms. She finally looked up, her blue eyes wide and frantic. “I think I scared her off, Nika. She’s being so dry. It’s been five days. Five days of one-word texts. I feel literally schizo.”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Azzi? Rich, hot, muscle mommy, beautiful physio angel sent from the heavens, CEO, Azzi?”

“Yes! And she probably thinks I’m an actual psychopath now,” Paige cried, gesturing wildly. “She was in my apartment when Zoe showed up.”

Nika blinked. “So? Didn’t she work with Zoe, she already knows her.”

“That’s the problem! Azzi had to be around Zoe because they were business partners, but I actually chose to date her. Azzi must think my taste in women is a literal biohazard.”

Nika let out a soft snort, twisting her racket on the court floor. “To be fair, P… Zoe was a lot. Even before her whole white-collar crime era. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t even know,” Paige muttered, slumping back against the bench. She stared blankly at her sneakers, trying to rationalize a relationship that now felt like a completely different lifetime. “At the time, it just made sense. Zoe was pretty. Zoe was rich, so she had her own things going on and she didn't suffocate me by obsessing over my career or treating me like a celebrity.”

“And she didn’t want to be public either,” Paige continued, her voice dropping into a quieter, defensive tone. “Cause she was convinced she was 99% straight and didn’t want the media thinking she was lesbian. Some of the media is still somehow entirely convinced that I’m basically straight too because Zoe wanted everything completely locked down. We always just did our own thing. We barely saw each other because of my travel schedule and her weird ass life. Half the time, it didn’t even really feel like we were together anyway. It was just easy when we were in the same city; we got to fuck without having to worry about NDAs and that was it.”

Nika nodded slowly, listening intently. She had been there for the entirety of the Zoe timeline, watching from the sidelines, the relationship was just so outlandish she hadn’t really developed an opinion on it, and like Paige just sort of acted like it didn’t exist.

“I don’t know what to tell you dude…you need to find a way to talk to Azzi and remind her you aren’t crazy if she isn’t tryna make conversation on text”

“So you want me to corner her”

“Basically yeah, show up somewhere she can’t dodge you”

————————

Azzi stared at her laptop screen. For the last five days, her entire existence had boiled down to a single, brutal exercise in self-restraint: limiting her responses to Paige.

Every time her phone buzzed, a stupid, involuntary spark would catch in her chest. She’d look down, see a text from Paige about some absolute nonsense or memes. She’d count to ten, and then press down on the delete key for an embarrassing amount of time to erase the long reply she already wrote, and type a single, dry sentence instead.

Keep the boundary. She’s your ex-client. She’s Zoe’s ex. She doesn’t like you. You are probably not lesbian.

"Az, please save me," Caroline groaned, leaning dramatically against the doorframe of Azzi’s office. She was holding a stack of files in her hands, looking thoroughly miserable. "I have a date this Friday with this guy, right? But I haven't been on a date for so long dude, and I don’t want dinner to be awkward. So do you wanna go on a double date to make it less painful for your best friend, whom I know you love and care for, and often say you would do anything for"

Azzi blinked, a sudden, desperate thought flashed through her mind. Maybe if she went on a date, she wouldn't have to go through the daily humiliation ritual of overthinking about Paige.

"I'll go," Azzi said grittingly.

Caroline froze, she stepped forward closer to Azzi like it was her vision deceiving her rather than her hearing, her eyebrows practically shooting into her hairline. "Wait. What?"

"I'll go with you," Azzi repeated, more sure now, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, trying to sound completely nonchalant. "It’s probably good for me to go out and about sometimes. But don’t get too excited, this will probably be the last time."

"Don't get too excited about what?"

Azzi’s heart dropped to where her ass met her desk chair.

Paige was standing right behind Caroline in the doorway, holding a tray of two iced coffees. She looked bright and beautiful.

————————

Azzi Fudd is so gay. She is so incredibly gay, specifically she is so deeply, and embarrassingly gay for Paige Bueckers.

It had been nine whole months of this torturous, slow-burn nonsense, and they still weren’t together. Ever since Paige’s rehab program technically ended last week, Azzi had been moping around the upper office all day. She didn't come down to the clinic floor anymore, she didn't help out with stretching, and worst of all, she had stopped bringing the daily iced coffees.

Caroline had watched enough "your daily $7 coffee could pay for your car down payment" financial freedom videos on TikTok to realize she had to take immediate action. She needed her daily caffeine fix subsidized by Azzi Fudd; who was her best friend, yes, but also her boss, and significantly wealthier than her.

So, Caroline had sought out the most annoying, finance-bro type guy she could find on Hinge, knowing he would certainly have an equally annoying best friend. Boom. One dinner with them, and Azzi would remember she actually completely hates men, causing her finally run into Paige’s arms.

It was a great plan, but it was going even better than expected. First of all, Caroline didn’t even have to beg Azzi much to agree to the setup. Actually, she hadn’t had to beg at all. 

And now, the universe had delivered a perfect bonus: Paige was standing right here, holding coffee, looking like a deer that didn’t know it was about to be run over. Caroline’s inner demon, who definitely watched too many Spanish soap dramas, rejoiced. It was time to rub Azzi’s upcoming date all over Paige’s face, and speed up her confession.

Caroline turned around, flashing Paige a massive, innocent smile. “Oh, nothing! Just that Azzi’s letting me set her up on a blind double date with a guy this Friday!” She looked back and forth between them. “I think it’s a great idea, right? Unless... anybody has any particular reason why Azzi shouldn’t go?”

Paige’s jaw tightened for a fraction of a second. She looked at Azzi, her blue eyes flashing with a mix of hurt, panic, and sheer disbelief. But instead of cracking, Paige’s defense kicked right back in. She slapped a smirk onto her face, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

“Azzi should definitely go,” Paige said, her voice dripping with artificial amusement as she walked past Caroline and placed the iced coffees onto Azzi’s desk. “I mean, honestly? I think it would be hard for her ass to score a date on her own anyway.”

————————

“Nika, I need you to kill Caroline!” Paige yelled into the phone, the moment she burst through the doors of the clinic.

“I’m a performance coach, Paige, not a hitman. But honestly I could totally see that as like a true crime episode you know, like a tennis racket serial killer, but anyways what the fuck did Caroline do to you?”

“She ruined my life!” Paige groaned, dropping into her car seat and dropping her forehead to her steering wheel. “I went into the clinic. I had coffee. I was literally two seconds away from asking Azzi to grab lunch with me, and Caroline drops a fucking bomb. She set Azzi up for a double date.”

“Okay? And what did you do?”

“I panicked, Nika!” Paige cried, throwing her hands in the air. “Caroline looked right at me and asked if anyone had a reason why Azzi shouldn’t go out with some random guy. And instead of saying something normal, my stupid mouth opened and I told them Azzi should definitely go because it would be hard for her to score a date on her own.”

Nika let out a sharp crack of laughter, shaking her head. “Oh, you’re an idiot. I told you to go there to make her think you weren't a weirdo, not make her think you’re a douchebag.”

“It’s not funny!” Paige muttered, her chest heaving as the adrenaline faded into raw, heavy frustration. “I was hurt. I don’t want to see anyone but Azzi, and she’s just out here volunteering to go out with men? I’m so confused. I was so confident she liked me even if she was a little weirded out recently. She was definitely looking at me in a typa way in my kitchen? She was holding me to, like the full on lesbian U-Haul hug. I know she feels it too. So why the hell is she fucking around and playing games with me?”

Nika let out a slow breath. “Maybe she’s straight, Paige, you never know.”

“No,” Paige said instantly, her tone deadpan, dropping any trace of her usual dramatics. “She definitely isn't straight. There is zero percent chance she is straight.”

Nika raised an eyebrow, that Paige could somehow sense through the phone. “Well, does she know that?”

————————

Azzi was going to kill herself. Actually, no, she was going to kill Bradley, and then she was going to kill herself. Not in a romantic, star-crossed, Romeo-and-Juliet kind of way. More like a ‘you are actually the worst person on the planet and I am doing the global population a massive favor by removing you from it’ kind of way.

They were forty-five minutes into dinner at a ridiculously loud, overpriced restaurant that Azzi could be enjoying if Bradley had not stopped talking about his macro-nutrients once.

“See, the thing about raw egg whites in the morning,” Bradley said, leaning across the table, “is the bio-availability. If you’re not tracking your metabolic rate before your fasted cardio, Az, you’re basically wasting your time in the gym.”

“Fascinating,” Azzi deadpanned, staring at her untasted salmon like she hoped it would magically come back to life and flop on her plate to provide her with some sort of entertainment.

Across the table, Caroline was not doing any better with Bradley’s friend, Chad. Chad was currently showing Caroline a video of his personal record deadlift on his phone, making loud grunting noises right there at the restaurant table for no reason. Caroline’s face had completely lost all its usual mischief, she looked, exhausted, and deeply, deeply regretful.

Azzi kicked Caroline hard under the table. Caroline gasped, her eyes snapping up.

“Bathroom,” Azzi mouthed, her eyes shooting daggers. “Now.”

“Hey, we’re just gonna go to the bathroom for a sec,” Caroline said smoothly, practically scrambling out of the booth.

The second the heavy wooden door of the bathroom clicked shut behind them, Azzi turned around, crossing her arms. “Caroline these aren’t just finance bros, they’re finance bodybuilding bros, this is a whole nother level of douchebagness, what the hell were you thinking?"

Caroline collapsed against the marble sink, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I swear his Hinge profile said he worked in capital ventures! I didn't know they were also competitive bodybuilders, Azzi, I swear to god!”

“The man asked the waiter if the kitchen could weigh his broccoli,” Azzi hissed.

“Let’s just go back out there, pretend I got a fake text from my landlord about a pipe bursting or something, and dip. Deal?”

Azzi let out a long, defeated sigh, rubbing her forehead. “Fine. Let’s go.”

They walked back out into the dimly lit, chaotic restaurant corridor. Azzi was so busy mentally rehearsing the excuse they came up with in the bathroom that she didn't notice the freshly mopped tile right near the kitchen doors. There was no yellow caution sign.

Her foot hit the slick sheen of water that probably had some remnants of soap left which made it extremely slippery.

Snap.

A sudden, agonizing burst of white-hot pain shot straight up her left leg. Azzi’s eyes widened, a sharp gasp catching in her throat as her balance completely vanished. She barely caught the edge of a nearby service station with her hand before she landed completely on the ground, her right ankle rolling completely inward.

“Oh, nice,” Caroline whispered, immediately leaning down and grabbing Azzi’s arm. She was smiling, keeping her voice low for the passing waiters. “Commit to the bit, I love it. Tell them you think you broke it so we can leave right now.”

Azzi was hyperventilating, the color completely draining from her face as she clutched the edge of the station tighter. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. “Caroline,” she choked out, her voice raw and strained. “I’m not acting. I really can’t walk. I can't move it.”

Caroline’s smile dropped instantly. Her eyes darted to Azzi’s foot, which was already beginning to visibly swell against her flats. “Oh shit. Oh, shit. Okay. Okay, don't move.”

After settling her on a nearby chair, Caroline scrambled back to the dining room, and came back with the most logical, but equally disgusting solution. Bradley and Chad loomed over Azzi, both looking like handsome squidward in a tight polo shirt.

“We got a downed athlete!” Bradley announced loudly, causing three tables of diners to turn around. He looked down at Azzi with intense, professional seriousness. “We need to transport her to a vehicle immediately. Chad, remember we have to preserve our posture.”

“Right,” Chad grunted, stepping into position. “Can’t strain the erector spinae. Friday is lower-body hypertrophy day.”

Before Azzi could even open her mouth to protest, the two bodybuilders hoisted her up between them. Because they were terrified of compromising their lifting form or throwing out their lower backs (which was impossible since they were built like Dwayne the Rock Johnson), they refused to just carry her like normal human beings. Instead, they lifted her completely flat like a starfish over their heads, holding Azzi like the finale lift from Dirty Dancing.

Azzi was suspended six feet in the air, floating above the restaurant, staring helplessly at the ceiling tiles while Bradley and Chad power-walked her past the bar.

“Keep your core tight, Az!” Bradley yelled up at her. “Don’t let your pelvis tilt!”

From five feet behind them, a distinct CLICK-FLASH went off.

Azzi snapped her head around, horrified. Caroline was walking backwards toward the exit, her phone held high, a look of guilt mixed with comedic disbelief on her face as she captured the entire moment on camera.

“Caroline, I will fire you!” Azzi screamed from the ceiling. “I swear to god, delete that right now!”

“It’s for the clinical file!” Caroline yelled back, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “It's medical documentation!”

When they finally got back to Azzi’s apartment, Azzi was lying flat on her living room couch, biting down on a throw pillow to keep from crying.

Caroline’s playful demeanor was entirely gone. She was in full Lead Physical Therapist mode, her hands gentle but incredibly precise as she carefully handled Azzi’s foot.

“Well?” Azzi wheezed, pulling the pillow away from her face. “Give it to me straight, doc.”

Caroline let out a long, sympathetic breath, sitting back on her heels. “It’s bad, Az. You have a Grade 3 ankle sprain.”

————————

It was now the next day. Azzi was trapped on her bed, staring blindly at the wall, desperately needing the glasses she had left on her desk at the office. The contacts she wore to her date last night were her last.

She absolutely refused to call Caroline. Caroline started looking so guilty last night after she fully processed what happened to Azzi, and it was suffocating; she had spent hours pacing around the living room, aggressively fluffing Azzi’s pillows and apologizing. Plus, Azzi literally could not look at her face without vividly visualizing Bradley, Chad, and the Dirty Dancing lift. The trauma was too fresh.

And it wasn’t like she needed an excuse to call Paige, but Paige really was the only other person besides Caroline who had the security code for her personal office.

Azzi opened FaceTime. The phone buzzed once before Paige’s face filled the screen. 

“Hey,” Azzi muttered.

Paige squinted at the screen. “You look rough.” She didn’t say it in a mean way, just honestly, just noticing.

“You look ugly,” Azzi said meanly, her defenses immediately flaring up.

Click.

Paige hung up.

Azzi let out an irritated breath, rolling her eyes as she immediately hit the FaceTime button again. Paige answered on the third ring, her expression completely blank now.

“I need you to do something for me,” Azzi said, getting straight to the point.

Paige leaned back against her chair's headrest, feigning deep thought. “Hmm… let me think about it… yeah, no.”

“Why are you being mean?”

“I’m not being mean.”

“Yes, you are,” Azzi insisted, frowning.

“Because…” Paige started, stopping herself before the words could completely leave her mouth. She couldn't exactly admit out loud that she was still feeling sour and wallowing in self-pity over the whole blind date situation. She cleared her throat, shifting her gaze away from the camera. “Whatever. What do you need me to do?”

“I left my glasses at the office. Can you pick them up for me and drop them off at my house?”

Paige let out a dramatic, breathy laugh, her blue eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Yeah, for sure, definitely. Also, on the way, do you want me to fly to France and pick up a soufflé for you, too?... Why the fuck can’t you get your own glasses?”

Without a word, Azzi flipped her camera and slowly tilted her phone camera downward, panning past her sweatpants to reveal her right leg that was purple and swollen around her ankle.

“Because of this.”

Paige’s entire demeanor shifted in a millisecond. She leaned so close to her camera Azzi saw her forehead in high definition. “What the fuck did you do to your leg?”

“Grade 3 ankle sprain, and back up from the camera please” Azzi said, reversing the camera back to her face. “Can you get my glasses or not?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab them.”

Exactly twenty minutes later, Azzi was sitting on her couch when a loud, thud-thud-bang started, it sounded like it was coming from downstairs directly below her, near her living room wall. Right where the window was.

Azzi stared at her bedroom door in disbelief. No. Paige wouldn’t.

Thud.

Yes, Paige definitely would.

Azzi picked up her phone. The moment Paige picked up her call, Azzi started. “So, I heard someone aggressively banging at my window. That isn’t you, right? I should probably be calling the police, right?”

“What the fuck, don’t call the police!” Paige’s voice came through the speaker, sounding completely out of breath. “Of course it’s me. I’m trying to get in!”

“Why didn’t you just call me to ask where the spare key was?” Azzi asked, rubbing her temples.

“Bro, are you a fucking grandma? Why would you have a spare key outside your house?” Paige yelled over the wind.

“Because I don’t want dumbasses climbing through my window! Get down before you get hurt. I didn’t fix your leg for nine months just for you to get injured doing idiotic shit.”

“Fine! Where's the key?”

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, a highly specific, evil thought forming in her brain. “It’s underneath the second big stone from the porch. Wait… actually, maybe the fifth one. But it could also be the seventh. Actually, maybe eleven or thirteen, too.”

“Wow. Thanks for such a specific answer,” Paige muttered sarcastically.

Azzi hung up the phone with a satisfied click, leaning back into her pillows.

Outside, Paige let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the landscaped path of large stones lining Azzi’s front walkway. She dropped and squatted down, looking at the rocks.

Paige decided to trust her gut. She skipped the second stone entirely and went straight for the fifth one, tipping the heavy rock over. Nothing but dirt. She frowned, moving back to the second. Empty. She crawled on her knees to the seventh, then the eleventh, aggressively lifting them up, her fingers getting completely coated in dark, damp soil.

She was currently digging around the base of the thirteenth stone, a streak of dirt wiped across the front of her pristine white t-shirt, when a voice broke the quiet afternoon air.

“Hey, Paige.”

Paige snapped her head around, still on all fours. Standing on the sidewalk was Miranda, Azzi’s next-door neighbor. And right beside Miranda was Cookie; the extremely small, chihuahua that Azzi frequently dog-sits. Cookie immediately let out a high-pitched, annoying bark. Paige hated Cookie because the dog was single-handedly responsible for at least four canceled hangouts over the past year, and even when she would convince Azzi that she would just come over and help her dogsit, Cookie was always fighting Paige for Azzi’s attention. Honestly, she didn’t even know how the dog managed to compete (and often win against her), chihuahuas were objectively ugly, and the spawn of the devil.

Paige gritted out a smile. “Hey, Miranda!”

Miranda blinked, looking at Paige’s mud-stained hands and knees. “Whatcha doing there?”

“I was… checking the structural integrity of the soil for the stones,” Paige lied smoothly, slapping her hand against the dirt. “Yeah. There’s a lot of… integrity here.”

“Ohh.”

“Yeah,” Paige sighed, standing up and wiping her hands on her pants. “Um, actually, Azzi is in a pickle. She’s stuck inside with a really bad ankle sprain, and I’m trying to get in, but I couldn’t find the spare key.”

“Ohhh, the spare key!” Miranda smiled warmly, clapping her hands together. “I actually picked it up a while ago to put her delivery inside when she went to Connecticut. I totally forgot to give it back! Here, let me just grab it from my kitchen.”

Paige froze.

What was the chance Azzi Fudd knew exactly where that key was and had done this entirely on purpose.

Miranda hurried back a minute later, dropping the silver key into Paige’s palm. “I hope Azzi’s okay!”

“Yeah… she will be,” Paige muttered, her voice dripping with incoming vengeance, before she remembered something, “Hey, Miranda?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t happen to remember… which stone the key was under before you took it? Just so I know where to put it back when I'm done.”

Miranda tapped her chin. “Ahh, it was the fifth one.”

She had been right. Her gut had been completely right. Paige knew Azzi.

“Perfect. Thanks, Miranda,” Paige smiled tightly, turning toward the front door.

Azzi was lying on her bed, her injured leg propped up on a pillow. The second Paige walked into her line of sight, Azzi’s eyes darted straight to the massive, dark soil stain spreading across the front of Paige’s white shirt. Azzi’s lips twitched violently, her cheeks flaring as she fought back a massive, victorious smile.

“The key wasn’t under the stones,” Paige said, her voice dangerously calm as she stopped at the edge of the bed. “But I ran into Miranda. She said she had the key.”

Azzi’s fake-innocent eyes widened. “Ohhh, right. I completely forgot she took it.”

“Yeah, right…” Paige deadpanned, tossing the glasses case directly onto Azzi’s stomach. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Hey! I’m injured,” Azzi protested, snatching the glasses and placing them securely on her nose. She looked up at Paige through the lenses, her dark eyes gleaming. “You have to be courteous to the patient.”

“Where was the courtesy when I was injured?” Paige countered, crossing her arms.

“Well, you’re the one who calls me a princess,” Azzi smirked, leaning back into her pillows with absolute satisfaction. “So I deserve special treatment.”

“Whatever, bro,” Paige muttered, slumping down into the armchair across from the bed, she didn’t want soil to get on Azzi’s sheets. “How did the princess even break her back…or, I guess, her ankle…then?”

Azzi’s smirk instantly vanished. Her face went entirely blank. Slowly, she turned her head away from Paige, burying her mouth and nose directly into the plush fabric of her throw pillow, letting out a muffled, incoherent grumble.

“What?” Paige asked, leaning forward, her blue eyes narrowing. “I couldn’t hear you while you were eating the pillow.”

Azzi pulled her face out of the pillow just enough to look at her, her voice flat and stubborn. “I said, I’m not telling you.”

“Ohh, okay then,” Paige said, getting up from the chair, taking two short strides and snatching the glasses off of Azzi’s face. “You don’t get your glasses.”

“What?” Azzi’s head snapped up.

“What, what?” Paige mocked.

“Bro, just give them to me.”

“Okay, just tell me how you got hurt.”

Azzi glared at her through her now blurry vision. “Why do you care?”

“I ended my photo shoot early to pick up your damn glasses,” Paige pointed a dirt-stained finger at her, “the least you can do is tell me how the fuck you fucked up your leg.”

Azzi let out a long, defeated groan, burying her face in the pillow one last time before rolling over to face the room. “It was on the stupid double date.”

Paige’s chest tightened, a sour, bitter taste flooding her mouth. The double date. She immediately pictured some ultra-pretentious, candlelight dinner at a place that required a suit jacket. She imagined Azzi wearing heels since that’s the reason she probably fell. Paige hated this random dude even more now. In fact, she immediately started plotting petty revenge. Maybe she’d pull the classic unlimited pizza ordering prank on his apartment. But then again free pizza isn’t really a punishment. ‘What if I order fifty pizzas to his house, and instead of getting mad, he donates them all to a homeless shelter? Then Azzi’ll think he’s like the male version of Mother Teresa, and they’ll get married and make heterosexual, non-IVF babies, and I’ll jump off a cliff.’

Paige forcefully shook the thoughts out of her head, keeping her face blank as she waited for Azzi to continue.

“The two guys Caroline set us up with, Bradley and Chad, they were so annoying,” Azzi said, her voice dripping with exhaustion. “Caroline and I went to the bathroom, and we were talking about how to get out of the mess. When I got out, I slipped and twisted it. Caroline thought the fall was part of my grand plan to get away from them, but then she realized I actually fell.” Azzi’s lips twitched, a look of pure, lingering trauma crossing her face. “And then… Bradley and Chad picked me up by my legs and shoulders and literally hauled me over their heads to carry me to the car, cause they didn’t want to hurt their erector spinae.”

Azzi reached for her phone, tapping the screen a few times before turning it toward Paige. “Caroline took a picture.”

Paige stared at the screen. There was Azzi, looking completely miserable, floating six feet in the air, held up by two men who looked like actual brick walls.

The silence lasted for exactly one second before Paige completely lost it. She fell back into the armchair, howling with laughter, her feet kicking out as she clutched her stomach. “Oh my god! No way! No fucking way, Az!”

“It wasn't funny!” Azzi yelled, though her own cheeks were flushing red. “I was a human barbell, Paige… and stop rubbing dirt all over my chair!”

After a solid two minutes of breathless wheezing, Paige finally wiped a tear from her eye and calmed down. She looked at Azzi, her expression softening as her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the time.

“Did you eat?” Paige asked.

“No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t put weight on it for the next week,” Azzi muttered, gesturing to the ice pack. “So I can’t cook right now. And I can’t exactly carry delivery up and down the stairs on my own.”

Paige frowned. “So were you just planning on starving today?”

“No, Carol’s gonna come in like two hours after she finishes work and she’ll bring me food.”

Paige wanted to say, ‘you should’ve called me, I’d bring you food on time for as long as you’d need me to.’

“It’s already two o’clock,” Paige said, standing up and grabbing her car keys out of her pocket. “I’ll go grab food. What do you want?”

Azzi blinked, and then blinked again, and then “hmmmm’d” for at least five minutes, but Paige knew better than to interrupt her; Azzi was the most indecisive person she knew. Finally, “Hmmm. Maybe that Thai place on Kenmare?”

“Kk. You want the fried rice, right?”

“Yeah, the green curry one.”

Paige made a face like she smelled rotten eggs, while heading toward the door. “Of course you’d order the greenest option.”

“Wait before you go, grab some clothes from my closet and change, you’re so dirty” 

Thirty minutes later, the front door clicked open again. Paige marched back into the house wearing Azzi’s white shirt and grey sweatpants, the spicy aroma of Thai food trailing behind her. She walked into the bedroom, setting the takeout containers on the nightstand.

But as Paige started opening the lids, she noticed Azzi had a strange, conflicted look of hesitation on her face.

“What?” Paige asked, pausing. “What is it? Are you not craving this anymore? Because I can go get something else, it’s just going to take more time. So can you please try to have a few bites of this so you aren't starving by the time I come back?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Azzi said softly, looking around the bedroom. “It’s just… I’ve been in bed all day. It would be nice to sit on the couch, or literally anywhere else. And I guess I also don’t want to risk dropping food all over my bedsheets.”

“Yeah, shit, sorry…” Paige blinked, rubbing the back of her neck. “I totally forgot about that. For sure, let’s eat on the couch.”

“Okay,” Azzi said, shifting her weight. “Can you pass me my crutches?”

Paige let out a soft snort and puffed out her chest, stepping up to the side of the bed. “Bro, you don't need crutches when you have me.”

Before Azzi could protest, Paige crouched down on the floor right next to the mattress, turning her back to Azzi and tapping her own shoulders. “Ok, hop on.”

Azzi stared at the broad expanse of Paige’s shoulders, her heart doing a sudden, dangerous patter against her ribs. “Paige, you can’t carry me. I’m heavier than you.”

“Bruh, don’t worry, I’m fine,” Paige laughed, shaking her head. “Plus, I’ve been bulking and I’ve gained like twenty pounds, so that’s like… at least fifteen pounds of pure muscle. Come on, get on.”

Paige was an idiot. But Azzi still hesitated for a fraction of a second. The smell of the food was amazing, her ankle throbbed, and Paige was right there, solid and steady. Slowly, Azzi shifted forward, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck and crawling onto her back.

Paige gripped the back of Azzi’s thighs, locking her in place, and stood up with a grunt.

“You good?” Paige asked softly, her head tilted slightly back toward Azzi.

Azzi buried her face slightly into the crook of Paige’s neck. “Hmmm,” Azzi murmured, tightening her grip just a little bit more.

Holy shit, Paige was holding Azzi.

This was probably the closest they had ever been. Azzi was radiating heat where her chest pressed firmly against Paige’s back, and she felt even warmer where Paige gripped the backs of her thighs. Being this close, Azzi's signature coconut-vanilla scent washed over Paige. It was the exact same fragrance Paige caught hints of whenever they walked close together, the same perfume she had asked to take home from her photoshoot last month and may or may not have been spraying on her own pillow every night before going to sleep.

A sudden thought hit Paige: if she could sleep next to the real Azzi, she would never need to spray her pillow again. She could have the real thing right beside her, the authentic warmth that her pillowcase could never replicate, because the perfume was only perfect when it was on Azzi's skin.

Paige mentally shook herself. She needed to lock in. She absolutely could not drop her right now, especially if she ever wanted the opportunity to carry her like this again.

Paige rose up, and in that instant, Azzi remembered something she often forgot: Paige was a professional athlete. Paige was six-foot-one of lean muscle. Paige was strong. Really strong.

Azzi felt Paige’s back muscles contract beneath her chest, heard the low, quiet grunt that came from deep within Paige’s torso, and felt the sudden, firm pressure of Paige's fingers gripping her thighs. Azzi felt butterflies, but this time she let the feeling happen. She was already tired and exhausted with her injury, and being against Paige like this was the comfort she had unknowingly been looking for since she fell. So no, she didn't tighten her stomach like she normally did when she felt like this around Paige, hoping to stop the movement of whatever was fluttering inside of her. Instead, she found herself wishing her staircase had an infinite number of steps, just so she could stay close to Paige like this a little longer.

So much for trying to get rid of her feelings.

When they reached the end of the staircase, Azzi noticed a suitcase by the front door.

“What’s that?” Azzi asked, nodding her head toward the entryway.

“It’s a surprise for later,” Paige murmured, carefully pivoting toward the living room. “First, let’s get you comfy on the couch and fed.”

True to her word, Paige set her down with surprising gentleness and laid out the food. But when Paige proudly pulled a container of plain chicken tenders out of the takeout bag, Azzi just stared at them, baffled. Paige was such a kid. She watched everything on her iPad, drank hot chocolate instead of coffee, and somehow managed to order chicken tenders from literally any restaurant she visited, regardless of the cuisine.

Azzi decided to intervene. She scooped up a massive portion of her own food. “Paige, if you don’t try new things, you won’t know if you like them. Come on, take a bite.”

“Bruh, I don’t want any of that green stuff,” Paige complained, turning her nose up.

“Paige!” Azzi glared at her with full authority.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were my Mom.”

“Fine. If you want to act like a kid, you’re going to get treated like a kid,” Azzi deadpanned. She gathered a generous amount of rice onto her spoon and leveled it at Paige’s face. “Here comes the choo-choo train, bitch.”

Before Paige could duck, Azzi clamped her left hand firmly around Paige’s jaw and shoved the spoon straight into her mouth.

Paige’s eyes widened in sheer shock. She sputtered, fighting back a cough as she aggressively forced herself to swallow the bite. But surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste bad at all. In fact, it was pretty good.

“You mean the choke-choke train!” Paige gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her blue eyes watering. “What the fuck, Azzi?”

“It was good, wasn’t it?”

“It was okay, I guess,” Paige muttered. She chewed thoughtfully for a second before her face suddenly lit up, her eyes snapping back to Azzi. “Wait, Azzi! I just realized something!”

“What?”

“It’s called a ‘choo-choo train’ because they want the person to chew-chew!” Paige pointed excitedly at her own mouth, making exaggerated, chomping motions. “Get it? Chew-chew?!”

Azzi blinked, “Oh, shit. I actually never thought of that.”

“I know.” Paige instantly puffing out her chest, using a ridiculously posh, sophisticated British accent. “You must admit, I am quite the intellectual.”

Azzi couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. Deciding to humor her, she cleared her throat and tried to reply with her absolute best, equally terrible British impression. “You truly are a scholar, Ms. Madison Bueckers. And with that massive intellect of yours, would you please offer me the reason as to why there is a suitcase currently residing at my front entrance?”

“Ahh, a fascinating query!” Paige countered smoothly, gesturing with her chicken tender. “You see, while I was out procuring our edibles –our nibbles, if you will–” Azzi snorted loudly into her rice “I realized just how entirely helpless you are. Quite comparable to a sad, shivering little dog on the street, really. And that thought ruffled my feathers entirely the wrong way. How could I leave a lady in such distress? Thus, I halted my journey, sped back to my own estate, and hastily packed my belongings. All so that I might temporarily lodge with you at your home.”

Azzi completely dropped the accent, her jaw hitting the floor. “WHAT?”

Paige’s theatrical posture melted instantly. She dropped her gaze to her lap, her normal voice returning as she nervously rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move in for the week. You know... so I can help you. Look after you.”

Azzi stared at her, her face blanking into a deadpan expression. “Look after me? Paige, I wouldn’t even trust you to take care of a plant.”

“Bro, what? I helped you look after Miranda’s dog like ten billion times. And I’m literally the only reason Cookie is still breathing after you tried to straight-up murder her!” Paige sneered.

Azzi opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself because, unfortunately, it was completely true. Paige was good with Cookie, and she was also entirely responsible for saving Azzi from a lawsuit. A few weeks ago, Azzi had been eating a double-chocolate muffin, and Cookie had been staring up at her with such longing, pathetic puppy eyes that Azzi had actually broken off a piece to give to her, completely forgetting that dogs couldn’t eat chocolate. Paige had literally swatted it out of her hand mid-air before it could hit the floor.

For however childish Paige could be, she was also incredibly dependable. She was responsible.

Azzi watched her as she attacked another chicken tender, and a quiet wave of appreciation hit her. Paige had shown up to her grueling rehab appointments every single day with a massive smile on her face, entirely intent on keeping everyone else’s spirits up. Azzi knew the sheer volume of pressure Paige was under. She knew how ruthlessly the media prodded into her personal life, and she knew exactly how devastating it was to suffer a career-threatening injury right at your absolute peak.

But Paige always smiled.

Sometimes, Azzi wondered if little Paige had smiled like that, too, back when the basketball was taken from her hands and replaced with a tennis racket. Or, more accurately, when little Paige had voluntarily dropped the basketball and picked up the racket, because even as a kid, she already understood what she had to do. Not just for herself, but because of what she owed her family.

It was in quiet moments like these that Azzi was sharply reminded that Paige was older than her. That one singular year between them suddenly felt like a decade. Sometimes, Paige just seemed so entirely solid. So strong, so steady, so dependable.

Azzi looked at her and felt a sudden, distinct pang of regret that Paige had ended up in an individual sport. It was a genuine shame she had never gotten to play basketball, or any team sport, really. Because Paige would have made the absolute best captain. She would have been the best teammate, the exact kind of player every single person would want in their corner when the game was on the line. Azzi wanted her in her corner. She wanted Paige here, living with her. But then she remembered.

“Isn’t Zoe living with you right now?” Azzi asked, her voice dropping as she looked up at Paige. “You can’t just leave your own apartment and move in here.”

“Bro, I don’t even talk to Zoe,” Paige countered instantly, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t even see her most days. She just stays locked in the guest room, and all I hear is her aggressively yelling on the phone about auctioning off her vintage Chanel bags. Honestly, this is probably good for me, too. I was starting to feel suffocated in my own place.”

Azzi searched Paige’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but found none. She let out a long, slow sigh, the last of her defenses officially crumbling.

“Ok, fine. We can be roommates, I guess,” Azzi grumbled, though she couldn't completely stop the tiny bit of relief from seeping into her tone. She pointed a finger at Paige. “But you have to stop bringing up Miranda's dog. You literally promised you wouldn't.” As she spoke, Azzi instinctively glanced around her own living room, shifting her eyes toward the corners of the ceiling as if hidden cameras were recording them, waiting for a reality TV crew to pop out from behind the curtains and incriminate her for the muffin incident.

Seven days later

Living with Paige for the past seven days in one word has been easy.

Paige was a surprisingly good cook. Azzi couldn't help but think back to their first morning together when Paige had asked her how she liked her eggs. Now, eggs were a deeply sacred subject to Azzi; her daily morning omelette was easily one of the things she looked forward to the most, but she had long since accepted that absolutely nobody could replicate the exact, hyper-specific way she liked it.

So, her expectations had been low on that first day when she sat on the kitchen counter, and carefully talked Paige through the steps.

But on the second morning, Azzi woke up to the savory, buttery aroma of vegetables. She called out for Paige, who jogged upstairs and carefully carried her down to the kitchen. When Azzi took her first bite of the omelette, she froze. It was good. Like, really good. There was a perfect ratio of vegetables, everything was diced to the exact right size, and not a single edge of the egg was overcooked.

When a baffled Azzi asked her how she made it so perfectly, Paige had just rubbed the back of her neck, sheepishly admitting it was actually her third attempt of the morning, and that she had forcefully choked down the first two burnt trials so they wouldn't go to waste.

It was the same for the rest of the week. Paige consistently woke Azzi up with breakfast. Then, the second she came home from her grueling tennis practices with Nika, she immediately whipped up a lunch for Azzi that managed to be both healthy and taste even better than what Azzi usually made for herself. Caroline always brought over dinner for the both of them because she still felt guilty about the injury. Azzi found herself missing Paige’s flavours whenever she ate dinner. Paige cleaned up every single dish without being asked, while Azzi, her assistant, sat next to her on the counter to dry the dishes with a towel and stack them beside her so Paige could put everything away. 

Most importantly, Azzi found that she could be entirely, brutally honest with Paige whenever she needed help moving around. Experiencing a disabling injury usually made Azzi feel incredibly anxious, but with Paige, it never felt like being trapped in the window seat of an airplane, where you'd rather suffer in silence and dehydrate yourself just to avoid bothering the strangers sitting next to you to get to the bathroom. Azzi never felt like an inconvenience. Because Paige, in all her steady, attentive care, never made her feel like one. 

They were equals. Regardless of the fact that, at the moment, one of them needed significantly more help than the other, throughout the entire time they had known each other, it always felt like they stood on completely even ground.

Azzi had recently started to notice how naturally this balance appeared in their everyday lives. Every afternoon, when Paige would finally stumble back into the apartment after a grueling training session, Azzi would be waiting right there on the couch for her. The second Paige was out of the shower, Azzi would pat the cushion in front of her so as to signal Paige to sit down so Azzi could massage her. So what if her ankle was completely messed up? Her arms and hands still worked perfectly, and nobody on the planet knew the specific mechanics of Paige’s body, or her lingering injuries, better than Azzi.

They were equals at night, too. After dinner, they would settle onto the couch together. Paige would be locked into a show or a basketball game on her iPad or the TV, while Azzi sat beside her, lost in a book. Without a single word ever being exchanged between them, the volume of the screen always seemed to exist at a magical, perfect equilibrium: just loud enough for Paige to enjoy, but quiet enough to respect Azzi’s reading.

They were equals in their care, and  their love for each other. Azzi knew now with absolute certainty that this feeling was completely un-platonic for her, but she still couldn’t fully decipher Paige. The mere thought that Paige might turn around and do all of this, the burnt omelets, the carrying, the endless, gentle attentiveness, for any regular schmegular Joe or Nancy made Azzi want to physically vomit.

But Azzi wasn't the only one spiraling. Earlier that afternoon at the indoor courts, Nika had watched Paige stretch out a tight shoulder and offered to help.

“If you want, I can massage your shoulder,” Nika had said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Paige had replied instantly, not even thinking. “If it really hurts, Azzi’ll just massage it later.”

Nika had just rolled her eyes, letting out a loud snort. “Bro, you are so whipped. But fine, I won’t keep your gay ass away from your wife. It’s your last day with her, after all.”

“Bro, why are you saying it like one of us is going to die?” Paige had snapped back defensively.

But inside, Paige did feel like she was going to die. The seven days were officially over. What if Azzi expected her to just pack her suitcase, load up her car, and quietly go back to her own apartment?

Later that evening, the reality of the timeline finally crashed into the living room. Azzi was sitting behind Paige on the couch, her thumbs digging firm, precise circles into Paige's shoulder blades.

“Carol came by to check on me while you were at practice,” Azzi mentioned casually, her fingers working through a knot.

Underneath her, Paige’s entire back locked up, her muscles tightening up and undoing all of Azzi’s hard work. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

“She said I’m good to start putting full weight on it now.”

Paige could have played it safe. She could have said, 'Oh, okay, I guess I'll head home tomorrow then.' But Paige wasn't about to let Azzi go. She didn’t want to live away from her, and frankly, she didn't think Azzi wanted to live away from her either.

She was helplessly, entirely in love with Azzi Fudd. And she wasn't blind, she had seen the way Azzi looked at her while they were brushing their teeth together in the bathroom last night. She had felt the heavy, breathless silence in the room as Azzi’s eyes slowly traced the lines of her body, lingering on the veins in her forearms, moving up to her collarbone, and dropping to her abs since Paige was just wearing a sports bra. Azzi wanted her. Paige knew it. So, fuck it.

Paige relaxed her shoulders under Azzi’s hands, and in a casual, but sure voice said, “Good. Then you can finally start helping me with washing the dishes instead of freeloading off me, and taking advantage of the fact that I’m in love with you.”

Azzi’s thumbs froze mid-press on Paige’s shoulder blades.

For a second, the living room went entirely still. Azzi’s brain scrambled to process what Paige had just said, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of Paige's shirt. Helping with the dishes. Not 'glad you're healed, I'll go pack my shit.' Not 'let me know if you need anything else before I head out.'

Paige wasn't leaving.

A sudden, overwhelming rush of relief flooded Azzi’s chest, so intense it almost made her dizzy. And then Azzi processed the rest of her words: Paige loved Azzi. 

Paige loved Azzi. 

Well of course Paige loved Azzi. 

But Paige was in love with Azzi.

Paige loves Azzi, and Azzi finally knows exactly how.

She gave a hard, intentional shove directly into the knot on Paige's left shoulder, eliciting a sharp gasp from the blonde in front of her.

“Freeloading?” Azzi echoed, her voice dropping into a flat but watery scoff. “Excuse me? I am a renowned medical entrepreneur providing you with elite, luxury-tier physical therapy on a daily basis, Madison. Do you have any idea what my hourly rate is?”

She shifted her weight on the couch, leaning forward so her breath brushed right past Paige’s ear.

“If we’re tallying up the invoice for the last four days, you actually owe me about four thousand dollars. So, if anything, you're the one freeloading off of me and taking advantage of how in love with you I am by using my couch as a physio bed.” She slapped Paige’s shoulder lightly. “But fine. If you want your princess to break her back doing chores, I guess I can wash the dishes. But I am absolutely not touching the pans you burn your test-omelettes in.”

Paige slowly turned around on the cushion, her eyes wide, glassy, and fixed entirely on Azzi's face.

“You love me,” Paige said, her voice cracking slightly as a few tears threatened to spill over her lower lashes. “Not just like me. You’re in love with me.”

Azzi looked at her, the playful armor completely dissolving as she felt her own chest swell. She let out a soft, breathless laugh.

“What did you expect?” Azzi whispered, reaching out to wipe a stray tear from Paige's cheek. “You made it so easy to (fall in love).”

————————

Paige and Azzi fell a lot. Paige had fallen right on her face, incredibly embarrassingly, the very first day she met Azzi. Paige had fallen again when her knee blew out. And Azzi had fallen on a terrible double date, all because she was desperately trying to get over Paige.

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.