#fi6nd

𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐭.     the title still sat snug against her shoulder,     like armor she couldn’t take off.     (wouldn’t take off)     not now,     not when it felt like every hallway,     every glance,     every woman on the roster was sizing her up like a lioness with fresh prey.     she kept her back to the wall,     eyes flicking over the backstage bustle like she was expecting someone to lunge at her.     maybe she was.     after the way nia had looked at her,     the way jade smirked,     the way naomi all but circled her...     she didn’t know who she was supposed to trust anymore.     not that she ever really trusted anyone to begin with.     and then…     there was @fi6nd.

tiff saw her before she said anything.     hovering,     maybe waiting for the right moment.     maybe deciding if she was friend or just another fake smile waiting to take her spot.      ❝ if you’re here to talk about the championship, ❞     tiff said quietly,     not looking over right away,     ❝ i’ve heard enough versions of     ‘the hunt is on’     to last a lifetime. ❞     her voice wasn’t sharp,     but it was distant.     bruised.     tired,     even if she'd never admit it out loud.     ❝ i used to think being champion meant i’d finally earned some respect around here. ❞     she shifted the title on her shoulder,     gaze fixed forward.     ❝ guess i just painted myself a bigger target. ❞

a pause.     her fingers twitched against the strap,     like maybe she was debating walking away,     but didn’t.     ❝ i don’t even know where you stand, ❞     she admitted finally,     turning her head just enough to look at alexa from the corner of her eye.     ❝ you smile at me in catering,     but you haven’t said a word since the blow up with charlotte.     and right now,     silence feels a lot like strategy. ❞     not an accusation,     but not trust,     either.     ❝ so…     go ahead.     say what you came to say. ❞     she didn’t sound angry.     she sounded like someone who wanted to believe in people…     but knew better than to expect much.

❝ i wouldn't feel the need to tell you "i told you so" if you weren't so allergic to admitting I'm right. ❞

❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. ❞     came the reply,     sweet as sugar,     sharp as a knife,     the kind of tone that wrapped itself around your ribs and squeezed.     liv didn’t flinch,     didn’t blink,     just stood there in that soft flicker of shadow and buzzed light,     head tilted like she was studying a puzzle only she knew how to solve.     ❝ maybe i am allergic to it.     maybe being right all the time makes you boring.     predictable.     safe. ❞.    she took a slow step forward,     barefoot and unbothered,     trailing fingers along the wall like it might whisper back.     there was something electric under her skin,     something too still to be calm.

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.    she doesn’t know whose.    maybe that’s the part that scares her most.     not the screams echoing off the walls like hymnals in reverse,     not the sound of steps where there should be silence,     not the way the air feels heavier the longer she stays.     no.     it’s the way she’s starting to feel at home here.     and then there’s her.     alexa.     a ghost from a different chapter,     one liv still hasn’t decided if she wants to close or claw back open with trembling fingers.

❝ this place changes people, ❞     her voice is raspier than normal.     like she’s swallowed ash and speaks in the smoke that’s left behind.     ❝ or maybe it just strips everything else away.     lets you see what’s always been there. ❞     she doesn’t approach right away.     just stands a few feet away,     head cocked slightly,     blonde hair a tangle of chaos down her back,     dark beneath her eyes like she hasn’t slept in years.     maybe she hasn’t.     maybe none of them have.

❝ i thought about you,     you know.     when it all started. ❞     truth.     simple.     unsettling.     ❝ wondered if you’d come back. or if you’d already gotten out while you still could. ❞     and then, softer,     almost cruelly tender...     ❝ turns out you’re just as sick as the rest of us. ❞     but there's something else in her voice.     not malice.     not gloating.     recognition.     a girl who once fell into the dark,     staring into the eyes of another who jumped.    and if alexa looks closely,     she’ll see it.     that hunger in liv’s expression.     not for violence.     not for revenge.     for understanding.     for a reason to believe she’s not the only one who was born for this.