An Unbreakable Curse

Wes’s love confession struck Mia like lightning to her heart.

'Eeeekkk!!!'

She combusted on the spot, eyes wide and lips wobbling. His mouth stretched into a satisfied grin, then he chuckled out loud. 

There were other people around, she knew, but she was too astonished to mind, her senses having long zeroed in on him—the only sound being her rapid heartbeat, the only sight being his smiling face. 

He was still holding the hand he'd kissed, as though it was a treasure, and she couldn't resist glancing down at it repeatedly. It was too much, too good to be true. She never dared imagine this outcome, not when they’d gone shopping in preparation for this day, discussed outfit choices, or bickered over who would pay. 

She believed she was just a helper, a friend borrowing time with a man meant for someone else, and she had been fine with that, or so she thought.

“You may think that I’m fickle-hearted,” Wes continued when Mia still gave no response, slightly tightening his hold around her. “But that’s not it at all. I’m serious about you. Whether you trust me or not, I still like you. I really do, Mia.”

She burst into tears before she could stop herself. They felt hot, spilling down her cheeks and forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. She was not even sure why she was crying.

‘Disbelief? Happiness? Gratitude?’ She couldn't tell, so maybe all at once. ‘And fickle-hearted? Right, Jenny said that, too. But you're not that kind of person, Wes. I would know.’

He was nice and sincere, and it showed as she felt him gently wipe away her tears. She opened her eyes in time with him cupping her face, the gesture filled with delicate care, like he was holding a fragile piece of glass. His thumb caressed her skin lightly, easing her nerves and making her blush harder.

“Woah! That's so romantic!”

From behind Wes, the audience clamored. Cheers and applause filled the place, as though it's the end of a romcom film. Only then did Mia snap out of it, reminded of who they were with.

“Hey!” someone shushed the clapping onlookers in reprimand, giving way to a faint sobbing.

It turned out somebody else had been crying. Mia took a peek over his shoulder and discovered it was Alice, who had crumpled to the floor and buried her tear-stricken face in her hands. The others kneeled beside her to comfort her but to no avail.

Guilt twisted her stomach in knots, but at the same time, she found herself bewildered. ‘She recognized Wes and knew she'd already rejected him, didn't she? Could her feelings have changed?'

“Mia, don't,” Wes whispered, his deep, husky voice sending tingles throughout her body. “Don't look at anyone else. I’m here, and I choose you. There's nothing for you to feel bad about.”

‘Ah… He noticed…’

It appeared he had read her mind, which was seconds away from drawing comparisons between herself and Alice. After all, she was the most obvious target in this type of scenario—the most fitting object of admiration. But the fact that Wes was right before her, not over there, convinced her of reality.

And what a reality it was.

“Wes, I…” she spoke in a timid and hesitant tone, uncertain how to put these all-consuming emotions into words. ‘No, I have to get a grip. Wes went through this trouble for me, and the least I can do is respond to his feelings properly. It’s still hard to believe that it's mutual, but… If it is me he really wants, then I…’

Her thoughts trailed off as she lifted her eyes once more. She was ready to answer, but then, two figures caught her attention—Gwen and Lucy. They came rushing inside and pushing through the crowd.

“A-Ahh…” Mia paled, having completely forgotten that Alice mentioned they were coming. 

“Waaahhh!!!"

“Hey, it's okay, Alice. What happened? Tell us.” Gwen stroked Alice on the back as she wailed loudly until Lucy tapped her shoulder and pointed in their direction. “Huh? Who are those people?”

“Well, you see, these girls said…”

“Nghhh…” Mia recoiled and whimpered tremulously as they shifted their attention to her and Wes. 

The tears slowly returned, but for an entirely different reason. Her throat dried and constricted. Her body shuddered from head to toe. 

‘They’d figure it's me, won't they? They are going to hate this. They hate me enough already. They'd make my life more miserable from now on.’

Her mind played all sorts of possibilities—each more vivid, more fractured, more real than the last.

They would corner her in the corridor, the locker room, or the stairwell where no one was around. Maybe they’d throw her stuff again, or maybe they'd do the unthinkable this time, like forcefully dragging her around the school. She could already imagine the painful words, ringing laughter, forming bruises, and flashing phone cameras.

They had done it before. They could do it once more. 

Her thoughts spun faster, tripping over each other. She struggled to breathe, face ashen. 

‘Will they finally snap and do something I can’t ever move on from?’

“What's wrong?” Wes’s once loving expression now contorted into a worried one as Mia shook uncontrollably. “Are you feeling unwell?”

She was, and it worsened when she realized that every move they made was being watched. Gwen and Lucy’s presence did more than dampen the mood; it also brought the other girls’ true feelings to light. They weren't there only to spectate after all, but also to judge —

If the person that Wes had chosen over their Alice was anything special.

She tried searching for anything to anchor her self-esteem to, but ended up with an onslaught of insecurities instead. The realization caused more horrific scenes to surface, and she dreaded the cruel fate that this newfound happiness of hers would soon face. Her vision pricked, the fluorescent bulbs above her sparking white flares at the edges—a warning that she was about to reach her limits.

“Haaah… Haaah…”

Her breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts. The world shrank and distorted—fell apart. She tried to separate the illusion from the truth, but fear flooded in and drowned her head.

Her eyes snapped closed, her panic rising far too much to handle.

‘Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.’

“Mia? Mia, please.”

Something grabbed her shoulder, and her body reacted as if she were in danger. She staggered back a couple of steps, feeling nauseous and ready to collapse by this point. Her hands wrapped around her upper torso, palms hot and slick with sweat even though her skin felt icy-cold. 

‘Just stop. Stop thinking. Stop feeling. Please, please stop...’

“Mia, listen...”

‘I can't. I’m sorry I can't. I can't take this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I'm sorry…’

“...There’s a back door around the corner. Go ahead and use that to get out of here.”

The unexpected words caught some of Mia's attention, and she slowly looked up to find a sad, heart-wrenching smile on Wes’s face.