Crashing Back to Reality

Mia felt like the world was closing in—like it was conspiring against her, like it was about to swallow her whole.

Most people would not have such a strong reaction to mere chatters. However, Mia was different. Anyone taking notice of her under these circumstances would trigger various emotions.

And it's a matter of time before they could crush her within and wreck her thoroughly.

“Mia.” A strong, clear voice shattered the illusion in an instant. “Let's get out of here.”

Reminded of the presence beside her, she managed to hold it back. Her heartbeat slowed, and her breathing evened. A sense of calm washed over her, as if a tender breeze blew away the brewing storm. 

She wasn't sure if Wes noticed her condition. But upon feeling his warm, huge hand wrap around her cold, small one in a comforting grip, she decided it did not matter. Either way, she was happy that he's there to ground her before she started spiraling.

‘Ah, but… I can't cause him any trouble.’

Mia took a deep breath and glanced up at Wes as they stepped out of the salon.

He kept holding her, unfazed by the sheer number of people eyeing him. Even here outside, passersby couldn’t help but turn their heads in his direction, drawn in by his face, his aura, his charm. He was attractive in an almost otherworldly, slightly dangerous way.

But that wouldn't distract her from the emotion hidden beneath all that beauty.

“W-Wes, is something…bothering you?”

His brow twitched. “I should be the one asking you that. You’ve suddenly gone silent and pale.”

“No, I-I was just…” She didn't want to burden him with a problem she herself couldn't solve. “...Just h-hungry!”

He stared at her for a moment, expression disbelieving, before giving a vague smile. “Shall we get something to eat, then?”

“Y-Yes… Ah! C-Can I go to the craft store first?” she added at the last second, remembering she'd used up all her yarn for her last commission. “Sorry, it'll be quick.”

“No worries. Let me pay for that and our meal.”

“I-It’s okay! You don’t have to, b-but thanks.”

Unlike earlier, he didn't urge her to accept. His lips settled into a thin line instead, his gaze inscrutable. As she suspected, he's thinking about matters of greater importance.

‘Oh, I get it! This is about that, right? In that case…’ She paused on her tracks and looked him straight in the eye. “W-Wes, listen, you'll do fine. Just go up to Ms. Alice and confess. This time, for sure, she… S-She won't be able to r-r-resist you!”

“Huh?”

“Um, it’s alright… T-To feel the jitters this early on, I mean. But, uh… Maybe this can help.” Her fingers quivered faintly as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small, delicate accessory—a puff flower she crocheted. “F-For you… A good luck c-charm…”

She timidly handed it over to him, cheeks incredibly warm. The final scraps of yarn she had left went into weaving the little trinket. It took so much courage for her to decide to finish it, and a lot more to finally present it to him.

“You made it?” he breathed out, sounding both astonished and giddy.

“Y-Yes. I also made one for Jenny when she confessed to her childhood friend before, and uh… She said it worked, a-and they’re dating now!”

He stared down at it for what seemed like a long while before lifting his gleaming eyes to hers. “I can’t ever repay you enough for everything, Mia.”

“Huh? There’s no need to...”

“Why do you always say that?” His tone sharpened briefly, though his expression remained soft.

“Um, well…” she trailed off, “...Because we're friends, Wes. This much is a given."

That ambiguous look returned; it had been etched on his face these past few minutes.

They continued on their way afterward, shoulder to shoulder yet not quite touching. Around them was a buzz of activity—families eating together, friends chatting up, couples holding hands. But despite the crowd and the noise that often frightened Mia, somehow, being with Wes felt like floating inside a peaceful, cozy bubble.

“Y-You don’t have to go inside. It might bore you,” she told him as they neared the craft store.

“It’s alright. I'll come with you.” Right then, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked. Upon seeing the caller, he let out a sigh. “Or maybe I'll just wait here. I have to pick this up.”

“No problem. Y-You can go ahead and find a place for us, too, if you want.”

“Honestly? I’d rather stay here all day than go anywhere without you.”

Her heart stuttered at his unexpected words. She intended to dismiss it as his usual playfulness, but then caught herself blushing a tad too much, forcing her to swerve around in a hurry. Her feelings for him would show on their own at this rate.

“P-P-Please, go ahead! I-I’ll message you once I'm done.”

There was silence, then a tentative response. “As you wish. I’ll be waiting, then.”

Mia, more or less, ran to the craft store, trying to keep both her heart and her steps steady. Her palms were sweating, her stomach somersaulting. She didn’t dare look back, or else she would end up staring with unbidden longing.

Her business at the craft store didn't take long.

Wes had given her a call before she could even send a message, telling her which restaurant he was at. She treaded the path across the food court, hugging the paper bag with her new yarn against her chest. Her mind was tangled up in thoughts of him, and she had to shake her head several times just to snap out of it.

‘Quit it, Mia!’ she chided herself. ‘You’re being ridiculous. He already has someone he likes. You’re not his anything-’

“Well, if it isn't Mia Rosswood~”

She froze in place, almost by reflex. Halfway to her destination, the female voice called out to her—a high-pitched voice she’d recognize anywhere. Her heart lurched, a jolt of fear shooting through her.

“What's a country bumpkin doing here? Lost, maybe?”

Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder to find two girls lounging against the sleek glass railing outside a luxury boutique, a pile of shopping bags stacked at their feet.

Gwen was holding her phone, and beside her, Lucy was sipping from a caramel frappe. The former had long, black hair and scarlet-red irises, while the latter had curly orange hair tied into a braid and hazel-brown pupils. They were the girls at school who never missed a chance to torment her since the moment she’d stepped into their world.

Mia kept walking, trying to pretend she didn’t notice them, but it was too late.

“Hey, Rosswood! We're talking to you!” Gwen yelled. “Tell us. Where’d you pick up that guy at the salon? Is he your sugar daddy or what?”

She stiffened. ‘They saw Wes?’

“No way!” Lucy cackled. “Didn't you see how hot he is? He even resembles that one famous celebrity! She must be his maid. Did you get a new part-time job, Rosswood?”

Mia gritted her teeth, her face burning with humiliation. She picked up her pace in hopes of disappearing into the crowd, but there was no escaping them. Gwen moved to stand in front of her before she knew it, blocking her path.

“Wait, is that the dress you wore during last year’s school festival? Gosh, it’s hanging on by the threads! And what’s with those old shoes? The laces might be the only thing holding it together.”

‘No, the laces are part of the design.’

“See, Gwen? If that man was her pimp or whatever, she wouldn't choose to be in those ugly rags. Noticed what he’s wearing? It must be expensive! Seriously, she’s like a beggar next to him.”

‘I paid for his clothes. It’s not that expensive, just looks like it.’

Mia resisted the desire to hide herself, suddenly aware of every fray and faded patch. She stayed quiet and walked around Gwen, both her footsteps and breathing faster than before.

“Just accept it, Rosswood,” the girl continued, “Some people just don’t belong in certain places. I wonder how you’ll even go to college. You must've been hard at work these days.”

They took turns mocking and sneering. Through it all, she faced forward. But her feigned indifference did little to deter them.

No sooner than Mia thought of just bolting out of there, Lucy stepped forward and deliberately bumped into her, caramel frappe in hand. “Oopsie~”