Scene: Maddie's Bedroom, Late at Night

Maddie sat on her bed, surrounded by the soft glow of dim fairy lights strung along the edges of her room. Her closet doors were slightly ajar, revealing rows of meticulously organized designer clothes and shelves stacked with high heels — all symbols of the perfect life she was expected to live. Yet tonight, she felt anything but perfect.

Her phone buzzed again on her nightstand. Another text from her dad.

Dad: Sorry, Maddie. Running late again. Something came up at the office. Be home by midnight.

She stared at the message for a moment, not sure why she even bothered checking anymore. Something always came up, didn't it? He'd probably waltz in past midnight, mumble a quick apology, and retreat to his study like he always did. Their lives ran parallel, but rarely crossed. It was just the way things were.

Maddie tossed her phone aside, and it landed on the plush blanket with a soft thud. She leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling, where shadows of her fairy lights flickered like distant stars.

God, why did it bother me so much? she thought, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. She was Maddie Hendricks — the Maddie Hendricks. She had everything anyone could want. A gorgeous wardrobe, endless connections, a father who gave her all the material things she ever desired... except, maybe, himself.

Her friends didn't know about the nights like this. She made sure of that. To them, she was just the glamorous, confident Maddie. The one who strutted around in her red high heels and could name every fashion designer like they were her personal friends. The one who teased Jerry mercilessly and made it seem like nothing could ever hurt her.

But that wasn't the whole picture.

She sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. Her phone buzzed again, and this time it wasn't her dad. It was Tommy.

Tommy: Hey Maddie, are you okay? You seemed off earlier.

Maddie's heart sank a little. She didn't like how perceptive Tommy could be sometimes. He could read her like no one else could, not even Jerry, despite his genius mind. She stared at the text, thumb hovering over the reply button, unsure of how to respond. Should she just say she was fine? Throw in a joke to deflect, like she usually did?

Or should she admit it? That she wasn't okay.

Her fingers hesitated, trembling slightly as the weight of the decision loomed over her. Maddie rarely let her guard down, not even with her closest friends. She didn't want to seem vulnerable — didn't want them to think she was just some spoiled princess who couldn't handle a little neglect from her father. She'd always told herself she was stronger than that.

But was she?

Taking a deep breath, Maddie finally typed out a response.

Maddie: I'm okay. Just tired. You know how it is.

She stared at the message for a moment before hitting send. The truth was too messy, too uncomfortable. Easier to keep the mask on.

She dropped her phone beside her and curled into the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. The fairy lights cast soft shadows on the walls, wrapping her room in a comforting glow. She closed her eyes, trying to push away the ache in her chest, the one that had grown all too familiar.

Maybe tomorrow, she'd feel like herself again. Maybe tomorrow, she'd put on those red heels and everything would be fine.

But tonight, she let herself be small. Just for a little while.