noticing
Am I the one who's always sober?
Missing out
On living loud and going for another round
~•~

Leo

My mom always said that it's the little things that matter- laughing with your friends till your stomach hurts, stargazing on a really dark night, the kisses you sneak at someone, the silent I love yous, the comfortable silence, bringing you your usual morning coffee, understanding, trust, a smile- and they're the things that make up the most memorable parts of our stories, but I fear that someone's hand will always guide mine and I'll never be able to write my own story.

The smell of sunscreen and the musky smell of the lake water mingle in the air as I lay on the old wooden dock, watching the still water that occasionally laps gently against the shore. I dip my foot into the cool water and sway it gently back and forth. The coolness of the lake is a stark contrast to the heat that the sun brings down on the earth with such a ferocity.

Summer is almost over and all I can think about is the unlimited freedom I'm going to have once college starts. My eyes skim through the unfolded piece of paper spread out directly in front of me and I can't help but let out a laugh at the words scribbled on it, my chest rumbling steadily.

I'm instantly taken back to the night that I created the bucket list. I was drunk. It was our high school graduation after-party and I was finally allowed to go to one without restrictions, without a curfew. As expected, I went all out, I let loose. After having a number of alcoholic drinks I couldn't count, stuffing my face with snacks and making out with random strangers I'd never see again, I found myself in someone's bedroom, sitting against the bed frame and talking shit. Jeremy, my best friend since forever, walked into the room, his face tensed and his eyes darting everywhere.

"Dude, you're acting crazy. Have you never been to a party before?" he asks as he takes a seat next to me on the floor."More importantly, why are you in here?"

"I think the bed has my number," I slur and feel myself slanting to the right, falling against him.

Jeremy pushes me upward with a sigh and regards me with scolding eyes.

"You're staying here until you...I don't know, get less drunk. You're a mess."

"I'm not drunk, the room's drunk," I state and look away from him, my hands moving to the bedside table to my left. I reach for the notebook and pen that I find lying there and begin to flip through the pages immediately.

"What the fuck are you doing? That's someone's diary man. Ever heard of privacy?"

I chuckle at him and rip out a blank page from the notebook before shutting it and placing the page on the top.

The ultimate bucket list I scribble on the top of the page before I begin to write down a bunch of crazy ideas on the page.

I feel Jeremy look over my shoulder curiously. He watches me patiently until I get to a particular activity.

"Bungee jump from the Navajo bridge in Arizona," he reads with a chuckle. "how the fuck can you even think of that in this state? And why so specific?"

"Fun right?" I ask with a laugh. I jot more down before I get bored and drop the note and pen back on the side table, folding the note neatly and sticking it into my jacket pocket before laying down against Jeremy. He doesn't push me off this time, he lets my head rest on his shoulder and even pats my head at a point. My eyes flutter shut and we stay there for some time until I open up my eyes partially and to my surprise, find him staring at me with a strange look in his eyes. It was probably nothing. I was drunk that night so I didn't think much about it again.

***

"Thirty - love," I call out and position myself to make a serve.

"Whatever you say, love," Jeremy calls back and I shake my head at him with a smile.

My racket hits the airborne ball with a force, causing it to fly in a parabolic path to the opposite end of the court. He leaps into the air on time and his racket makes contact with the incoming ball, sending it back my way.

"I feel like this summer went too fast," he tells me in the middle of a grunt. He smacks the ball down into my court and I crouch slightly before giving a topspin shot back, catching him off guard and gaining a point.

"forty- love!"

"Fuck!" he cries and plants his hands on his waist, after dramatically throwing his racket to the ground. "You know what, you win. No need to go on."

I do my little celebration dance and he sneers at me.

"Hey, look on the bright side, you get to be love... at least you're not 40."

"Neither did that statement make sense nor did it console me." I grin at him.

"Good game," I say as I walk over to grab a bottle of water from a packet sitting on a nearby bench. We're at Jeremy's parents' mansion, in his inbuilt tennis court that we play in a lot. I love to come over to his place because it keeps me out of my house and my head.

I wipe away the sweat on my forehead and down the entire bottle in a few gulps.

"Whatever," he says, walking over to grab a bottle from the packet. "you're just a little too good. I don't know why you chose football."

I roll my eyes. He always finds ways to bring this up. "I want to play football."

"You don't want to play tennis?"

"I do, it's just..."

"Do you really want to play football or is there some other reason you're obsessed with being so good at it?"

"I-" I feel my heart clench in that familiar way it does whenever I think of tennis, of football, of family, of this summer, of college, of my entire life.

"I don't know," I admit.

"Leo, we both know why you're so dedicated to football even though you're literally in love with tennis. We've talked about it so many times."

"Why do you even care so much?"

"...because I can't stand to see my best friend lose himself and his happiness just for validation."

With that he walks away, leaving me there stunned, not because I didn't expect him to say it, but because I know he's right.

◑ ⁠◑⁠ ◑

Ivy

Family isn't always blood ties. It's the people who celebrate your wins with you and hold you when you're falling apart, the ones who you share your deepest, darkest secrets, your thoughts and feelings with. Home isn't always a place on a map. It's the place where you feel comfortable, seen, heard, understood and accepted for who you are. It's a feeling.

I wake up on Saturday morning before dawn, feeling hollow. I can't shake off the feeling that I'm holding tightly onto something that's slipping away.

I stroll to the small table beside the window and draw back the plain, grey curtains that make my room look like a cave when they're drawn. The cold, humid air hits my face, carrying the scent of damp soil and blooming flowers with it. I breathe it in deeply, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.

As I stare out the window, watching the gentle purple of the sky dissolve into soft pinks and warm oranges, a piece of paper pinned to my corkboard catches my eye. My scholarship letter. A grin spreads across my face. It's a moment I've been working towards for years and everyone who heard about it told me how proud they were, my parents included, which touched me because they weren't very often.

After a long shower, I get into jean shorts, a thin, grey, hooded, sleeveless shirt, and my trusty blue converses. I slip on a few rings, something that my mom isn't really fond of. Although she lets me get away with them sometimes because I try to wear ones with hearts and stars, which makes me look a bit more feminine.

My phone pings as I'm about to leave. A text pops up on the screen.

Can't believe this is our last ice cream date before college and then a crying waterfall emoji after it.

It's from Emma. We've been inseparable since freshman year, and the thought of us leaving each other and going off to college makes my heart ache. I'll miss our girl talk, our cozy sleepovers, and the way she always knows how to make me smile. But under all that, I know it's more complicated. I've always felt a nagging emptiness, a sense that even with my best friend by my side, I'm still searching for a connection that feels authentic and meaningful.

It's not just Emma; it's everyone I've ever tried to connect with. I'm used to this feeling of being seen but not truly understood, and I think I'm close to accepting that I'll never feel that way because if I can't feel that with my best friend of three years, what's the point of hoping for more? Maybe there's something wrong with me, it's the explanation I've been going with for the longest time. Although I feel a bit guilty, I'm relieved that I don't have to string someone along anymore, pretending that everything is fine when it's not. We could still be friends, but I doubt our label of being best friends will last, and it's for both of our own good.

Ikr? I text back immediately, my fingers trembling slightly as I type. Imma cry.

At our favourite ice cream place Emma is buzzing with energy as usual and making me crack up every five seconds until I mention Jake.

"We were both so bummed out, but it's for the best," she says, her voice getting noticeably quieter.

"Aww...you couldn't do long distance?" She shakes her head, and I feel a twinge of sympathy for her.

"It's okay though, I heard there are a lot of cute guys at UCLA," she tells me with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Ohhh yeah definitely," I say with a giggle which prompts her to let out a laugh.

"Anyways, let's talk about us. I'll miss you a lot, Ives, you know that right?"

I blink rapidly and stare down at my mint-Choco ice-cream before giving a nod.

"I'll miss you too Emma."

Before we leave, I envelop her in a warm, tight hug. Emma gasps for breath as I cling to her.

"Oh Winchester would love you. You should try out for a sport or something girl, damn. I think you cracked a rib."

"Oops." I let go of her before we say our final goodbyes.

Her words echo in my mind as I walk home. Winchester would love you. I stare at the flowers I picked from my favourite florist's, smiling down at the daisies, zinnias, hydrangeas, and dahlias all packed up in a bunch. They're my favourites and I love how they make my room look more colourful.

As the sun fades away into the sky and I get lost in the pages of my fluffy romance novel, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out to see a text from an unknown number: Meet me at the old oak tree in the park at midnight. Come alone. My heart jumps at first but then I roll my eyes, letting out a chuckle, knowing exactly who it is- Max, a friend from high school who loves to play pranks and... I kinda had a crush on at one point. I recognise his number and assure myself that I'm not going to meet a kidnapper in the middle of the night like an idiot. God knows why he decided on midnight but I don't question it. That's Max for you. I sneak out and make my way to the park anyway, laughing to myself. At least someone wants to see me by midnight.

As I approach the tree, the light tread of my feet is still audible to an excited Max who jumps out from behind it, grinning.

"Boo!" he cries and I stand there trying to keep a straight face. "Ugh, do you have to be so smart all the time? Anyways, congrats on the scholarship Ivy." He holds up a camera to my face and I blink in surprise. We end up taking a few silly photos together, and I can't help but laugh at his behaviour. I love unserious people. Before we leave, Max hugs me goodbye and I smile amidst the tears stinging my eyes. God, I'm gonna miss all my friends.

"Hey Ivy," he calls out and causes me to halt abruptly in my tracks.

"Yeah?"

"The entire senior year is going to have a party around this time next summer. We're already planning it. I want to see you there."

"Max, I know you're well aware that that's not really my scene...but I'll try to show up. Promise."

"Awesome." He gives me a charming smile before walking off into the night.

As I walk home, the stars twinkling above me, I feel my heart racing in that way it usually does whenever I'm about to write an exam or give a presentation in front of the class. I've always been such a good girl, to an extent, and I wonder if I'll ever try to deviate from that. I had to have a good record on my transcript in order to get the scholarship to Winchester but now that I've gotten it, I feel like I should step out of my comfort zone a little. It's one of the reasons I'm so excited about college. There are so many things I'm looking forward to: independence, new experiences, new friends, hell, maybe finally I could actually get a taste of what it feels like to be truly seen and understood, maybe by a single person, and if I'm lucky, maybe even more than that.

◑ ⁠◑⁠ ◑

Jade

"Ah!" I cry as my phone flashes, temporarily blinding me with its bright light. I blink rapidly, and when my vision clears, I fix my phone into the holder and adjust the ring light. The sight of my hair in the standing mirror just by the corner of my room causes me to gasp and I reach up to pat it down. After several tries to get it to look as perfect as it did before, I succumb to using a hairbrush. Once I'm satisfied with the silkiness and shine, I apply another layer of strawberry pink lip gloss to my lips and extra dark mascara. The sugary scent of the lip gloss and the subtle tickle of the mascara brush against my lashes makes me feel satisfied.

I tilt my head, pout at the camera, and a smug smile stretches my lips as far as my recent Botox would let it go. The numbness in my face is still a bit strange and uncomfortable but I've learned to work with it. I've always been a perfectionist, and the thought of imperfections showing up on camera drives me crazy.

"Okay, let's do this," I say with a sigh, proceeding to tap on the red button at the side of the screen and getting into character.

"Hi guys, it's Jade and in today's video you're going to be getting ready with me to travel to Portland!" I flash a dazzling smile at the camera and I'm super satisfied at how pretty I look in my natural skin. All these years of using uncountable facial products really paid off.

"So guys, I'm moving to Maine for college and I will be like super honest, I'm not happy about that," I start as I apply foundation to my skin. "It's a private school and that's awesome I know but I actually wanted to go somewhere else. All my friends from highschool are all going to Ivys and it feels like a... downgrade you know..."

At this point, I've applied the concealer and I'm blending it in with the foundation. After a few more products and brush strokes, I'm set for the next stage.

"And I didn't want to seem like an ungrateful person you know, so I'm just going with it and I'm like pretty sure I'm not gonna like it there but hey at least it isn't the worst place to go right?"

I apply my liner in a few strokes and it doesn't take me much time or trials like it usually does but in order to get the perfect cat-eye look I have to be extra careful and I find myself lost in the motion.

"I promise I'm going to do a live once I get to Winchester and I'm also going to be vlogging my first day, so set your notifications!"

I pause the video, touch up my makeup and proceed to grab my outfit, putting it on in order after sampling it to the camera. When I'm done, I do a little spin and cute pose before turning the video off. I grab the phone and slump to my bed afterwards, going straight to edit and posting afterwards. The soft glow of the screen illuminates my face as my fingers move across the screen expertly.

***

Some hours later that day, I arrive at a hotel in Portland and go straight to unpacking before making myself comfortable on the extra-soft queen-sized bed. The plush pillows envelop me as I fall into the bed, and I let out a contented sigh. I open my phone and go straight to my last post on TikTok to read the comments.

You look so gorgeous
*Heart eyes*
Girl, show us your skin care routine, your skin is perfect
Take it easy on the makeup
That top is so pretty
You're so spoiled
Eat something girl, you're too skinny

I try to ignore the negative comments, but they linger and I end up deleting most of them. As I scroll through, liking the positive ones, one particular comment makes me pause: She's so flat. My stomach twists into a knot. Great, a new insecurity unlocked...

I come out of my page, scroll through my feed, reply to messages, and take a few pics before dozing off.

Hours later, I'm jolted awake and the thoughts that bother me even in my own dreams flood into my head. I lie in bed, my head throbbing, getting filled up with the criticisms I face everyday, from others, from myself. I feel like I'm suffocating under the weight of what others think I should be.

I toss and turn, until I find myself buried under all my pillows. My mind is a mess, thoughts swirling in every direction. I think about my perfect online persona and all the imperfections I've tried to hide. I'm tired of pretending, tired of being the absolute perfect version of myself. But what if I'm not good enough without all the filters, all the makeup, the surgeries and editing? What if I try to let it all go and end up being irrelevant? In the shadows with no one to care about me?

I throw off the covers when beads of sweat start to appear across my forehead and get out of bed, padding over to the window. The city lights twinkle like stars, but I don't feel like I'm reaching for them. I feel like I'm stuck in this dark, tight space unsure of how to break free although there is a narrow space where I can see a sliver of light shining through. I rest my forehead against the cool glass, feeling the tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

Who am I? I think to myself, the question echoing in my mind like a scream. I know that I knew the answer to that once but now, I think I've forgotten.