❝𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘰𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵❞

ꨄ

𝗠𝗔𝗬 𝟮𝗡𝗗 , 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰
𝗟𝗢𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗦 , 𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗔
𝟭𝟭:𝟬𝟲 𝗔𝗠

Kiana had been in bed all day, drinking tequila as if it were water. She couldn't get Tony's face out of her head, that look of relief and horror had been the first thing she saw when she woke up in the hospital after her overdose. His eyes—wide with panic—haunted her.

He'd begged her to go to rehab, tried to force some clarity into her fogged mind. But she'd only half heard him, numb to everything but the pull of the next high. "I don't need rehab," she had mumbled, trying to brush him off, but even as she said it, the truth burned in her chest. The truth that she didn't want help.

Kiana wasn't sure about anything anymore. Her career felt so distant now, like a life she used to live. All she cared about now was staying numb. The pills, the alcohol, the haze—it was the only thing that could drown out the world, the voices, the guilt. She couldn't go a single day without it. She needed it. And if she didn't, what was left? What was the point?

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the bottle again, the liquid burning its familiar path down her throat. It was a fleeting comfort, a shallow balm, but it was the only one she had left.

The sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand made her flinch. She knew who it was without even looking. Tony. He'd been calling all day, his concern more suffocating than the silence she craved. She couldn't bring herself to pick up. She couldn't face him. Not now, not when she was so deep in this mess that the thought of climbing out felt impossible.

Instead, she swallowed another pill, letting the darkness take her again. Maybe tomorrow would be different, maybe not. But today? Today, she was just going to keep fading away.

Kiana's head was spinning, the room felt like it was closing in. The tequila had done its job, but it didn't matter. The numb feeling was short-lived, and it was never enough. Her mind kept going back to the same memory—meeting Julien for the first time.

It was at Phoebe's birthday party, a night filled with noise and laughter. But for Kiana, that night changed everything.

She'd stepped outside to escape the heat and noise, the cool air hitting her face. Before she could even catch her breath, she saw Julien leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand. Kiana couldn't help but watch her, the way the smoke curled up around her and how confident she looked.

Julien caught her gaze and raised an eyebrow. She went to flick the cigarette out, but Kiana quickly waved a hand. "No, it's fine. You don't have to—" Her words trailed off as the thought hit her. "Actually, do you have another one?"

A small smile tugged at Julien's lips, like she'd been expecting this. She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out a fresh cigarette, and handed it to Kiana. Without missing a beat, she lit it for her, the flicker of the flame bright against the dark night.

Kiana took a slow drag, the smoke filling her lungs. She exhaled, trying to ease the tension in her chest, and looked over at Julien, a little more grounded now.

"So," Kiana said, trying to make conversation, "how do you know Phoebe?"

Julien leaned back against the wall, her posture relaxed but somehow still full of energy. "We're in a band together," she said, her voice easy but with an edge. "Boygenius. Our friend Lucy's in it too."

Kiana's eyes widened slightly, impressed. "Wait, you're in that band?" she asked. The buzz from the alcohol mixed with genuine excitement. Boygenius was a name she'd heard tossed around online and in the studio by Phoebe, but she never got around to listening to their music.

"Yeah," Julien replied, nodding. "It's kind of a new thing. We just make music whenever, you know?"

Kiana couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I get it. I make music too. I've been trying to figure out what to do with it for ages."

Julien's interest piqued. "What kind of stuff do you make?"

Kiana hesitated, unsure if she should go deeper. But something about the way Julien was looking at her made her feel safe enough to answer. "Folk and indie mostly." She paused, tapping the end of her cigarette. "But I don't know. I'm trying to figure out who I am as an artist, but it's hard, you know?"

Julien nodded thoughtfully, the glow of her cigarette illuminating the sharp angles of her face. "Yeah, I get that. It's like everyone's always waiting for you to have it all figured out. But sometimes you just have to let it come to you, piece by piece."

Kiana's lips parted as she absorbed the words, feeling a strange connection in that moment. The music, the struggle, the uncertainty—it was all so familiar, and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel so isolating.

"I guess you're right," Kiana said quietly, taking another drag from her cigarette. She looked up at Julien, catching her eyes. "Maybe we're more alike than I thought."

Julien's smile was small, but there was a spark in her eyes, something Kiana couldn't quite place. "Maybe," she said softly. "Maybe we'll figure it out together."

The words lingered in the air between them, heavy with possibility. Kiana couldn't have known then how much Julien would come to mean to her, how that night would be the start of something that would unravel and change her life forever. But for a moment, in the glow of the streetlight, everything felt clear.

Kiana took another drag from the cigarette, the smoke swirling around her as she tried to soak in the moment. The conversation felt easy, effortless, but something tugged at her curiosity. She shifted her weight, turning slightly toward Julien, her head still buzzing from the alcohol.

"So, what's your name?" Kiana asked, her voice soft but steady.

Julien gave her a small smile, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she flicked the cigarette. "Julien. Julien Baker."

Kiana's brows raised in recognition. She'd heard that name before, though she wasn't sure where. "Julien Baker," Kiana repeated, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Kiana Stevens."

Julien's eyes narrowed for a moment, as if she were processing the name. Then, the recognition hit her. She straightened up, her expression shifting slightly. "Wait—Kiana Stevens? The Kiana Stevens?"

Kiana laughed, the sound a little nervous. "Yeah, that's me."

Julien's eyes widened a fraction, and then she grinned mischievously. "You're Sandra Stevens' daughter?"

Kiana nodded, trying to stay casual. "Yeah."

Julien leaned in, teasing, "So, a nepo baby?"

Kiana laughed, more relaxed than she had been all night. "Guilty as charged."

Julien chuckled. "No shame in that. At least you own it."

Kiana let out a laugh, shaking her head. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all.

—

Kiana stepped into the bright, polished lobby of the Vogue headquarters, the sleek modern design doing little to calm the knots in her stomach. She'd put on her best "I've got it together" outfit which consisted of an oversized black blazer over a vintage band tee and black jeans, completed with a pair of boots. Her makeup was subtle but effective, hiding the exhaustion.

A young assistant with a warm smile approached her. "Kiana, welcome! We're so excited to have you today. If you're ready, we can get you settled in for the interview."

"Yeah, let's do it," Kiana replied, offering a smile. She followed the assistant down a hallway to a spacious, sunlit room where a journalist and a couple of production staff were waiting.

The journalist, a poised woman named Grace, stood up and extended her hand. "Kiana, it's an honor. Thank you for joining us, especially today of all days."

Kiana shook her hand, nodding. "Of course, happy to be here."

Once they were both seated, Grace wasted no time, jumping straight in. "Your sophomore album, Reckless, is set to release on June 7th, and it's already generating a lot of buzz. And as of this morning, we have your new single to talk about as well. Congratulations on that."

"Thank you," Kiana said, the nerves in her chest tightening. She took a controlled breath, focusing on keeping her expression calm.

"Let's start with the single," Grace said, leaning forward slightly. "It's raw, emotional, and it feels very personal. Can you tell us a bit about what inspired it?"

Kiana looked down for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "The single, and the whole album really, came from a place of deep reflection. It's about loss, regret, and coming to terms with your own mistakes. I went through a breakup that was entirely my fault, and I felt like I needed to confront that head on, no matter how uncomfortable it was."

Grace nodded thoughtfully, a genuine smile on her face as she continued. "Your music has always been known for its emotional depth, and it's clear that Reckless is no exception. Can you tell us a bit more about what the creative process was like this time around? How did it differ from your debut album?"

Kiana felt a small wave of relief at the slight shift in topic. Talking about the process behind her music was easier than talking about the meaning of it. "This album was different. My debut was more of an exploration with figuring out who I was as an artist and what I wanted to say. With Reckless, I knew exactly what I wanted to express. There was no hesitation, no holding back. It was intense to say the least. A lot of nights spent in the studio, revisiting painful memories, and putting them into words."

Grace's pen moved swiftly across her notepad. "Did you find that the writing and recording process was therapeutic for you? Or did it come with its own challenges?"

Kiana shifted in her seat, running her thumb over the silver ring on her index finger. "Both, honestly. It was therapeutic in the sense that I was finally confronting things I had buried for too long. But it was also draining. Some days, I'd leave the studio feeling like I had nothing left to give. But it was worth it. Every lyric, every note—it all meant something."

"That passion really comes through," Grace said with a nod. "The single released today is already resonating with fans. They're saying it feels like an anthem for anyone who's ever struggled with their own regrets. Was that the intention behind it?"

Kiana's lips curved into a faint smile, genuine this time. "Yeah, I think it was. I wanted people to know that it's okay to mess up, to feel lost, and to try to find your way back. We're all a little reckless sometimes, but there's power in acknowledging that and trying to move forward."

Grace looked up from her notes, her expression warm. "It's a message that's clearly hitting home. Now, with the album set to release on June 7th, do you have any plans for how you're going to celebrate? Or are you already thinking about your next project?"

Kiana chuckled, a sound that felt foreign but welcome. "Celebrating. That's a good question. I think I'll try to take a moment to breathe, to appreciate that it's out in the world. But I'm always thinking ahead. Music is how I make sense of things, so I'm sure I'll be back in the studio sooner than later."

Grace nodded, scribbling down a note. "One last question for now. Do you think making this album has helped you find any closure, or do you still feel as reckless as the title suggests?"

Kiana's eyes shifted, a hint of a bittersweet smile growing on her lips. "I think it's a start. Closure is complicated, and so am I. But maybe this is my way of learning to let go, one song at a time."

"Well, we're all looking forward to seeing where your journey takes you next," Grace said, her voice sincere. "Thank you for sharing this with us today, Kiana. I know Reckless is going to be a hit."

"Thank you," Kiana replied, standing up as the interview wrapped, shaking Grace's hand and exchanging polite goodbyes with the team. The praise and smiles around her felt like a strange echo, bouncing off a wall she'd put up long ago. As she walked down the hallway, heels clicking against the polished floor, the mask she'd worn during the interview began to slip.

Out on the street, the fresh air hit her like a wave, but it did nothing to clear the fog of numbness that clung to her. She lit a cigarette, the first drag burning in her chest but grounding her. Every answer she'd given in that room had been a carefully constructed lie—words that sounded right, that made sense to everyone else. But deep down, Kiana knew the truth.

There was no part of her that believed she was moving forward or healing. The idea of closure was a joke. Her mind was still trapped in the same cycles, replaying the mistakes and the guilt. The album had been cathartic, sure, but it hadn't fixed anything. If anything, it had only made the pain more real.

Kiana took another drag and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke swirl into the bright afternoon sky. She told herself that she'd play along for now, keep up the facade for the world. But inside, she felt as reckless as the album title suggested, untethered and unable to see a path forward.

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alex's corner!
I wrote this chapter while being high so if it didnt flow well sorry!