Who was this girl?
The one with the fake smile, the empty eyes, the body that felt like it belonged to everyone but herself.
I leaned over the toilet, the familiar burn rising in my throat.
When I was done, I curled up on the cold tile, pressing my cheek to the floor.
“Get up, Brit,” I whispered to myself. “Get up.”
But I didn’t move.
Not for a long, long time.
Chapter 14
Brittany
The Past (Age 20)
I stare at the empty plate in front of me, my fork trembling slightly in my hand. The scrambled eggs have gone cold, the toast untouched. My mother’s voice cuts sharply through the silence.
“Brittany, eat.”
I glance up. She’s standing at the kitchen counter, flawless as always, a silk robe tied tightly at the waist, phone in one hand, coffee cup in the other. Her eyes flick over me — no, not me, but the image of me — scanning for flaws.
“I’m not hungry,” I murmur.
“You need to eat,” she snaps, setting her cup down with a sharp clink. “You have that photo shoot tomorrow, and if you show up looking bloated, they’ll drop you from the campaign.”
I nod absently, pushing the eggs around. My stomach clenches, a tight, sour knot.
“Brit,” she says again, her voice softening just a notch. “I need you to focus. You’ve already caused enough trouble this year. The DUI. The tabloids. The parties. Jasper has been working overtime cleaning up after you.”
At the sound of his name, my chest tightens.
Jasper.
He’s barely home anymore, always with Janice. The perfect couple. The golden boy and the girl next door.
I used to be his favorite person. His little sister. His shadow.
Now I’m just… the mess he has to manage.
---
That night, I go out again.
The music pounds through my body, the bass rattling my ribcage. I tip back another shot, the burn sliding down my throat, and laugh as someone — maybe Michael, maybe Jake, maybe it doesn’t matter — spins me onto the dance floor.
Sierra is across the room, tucked under Ace’s arm, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. She glances up, catches my eye, and gives a small, almost hesitant smile.
I look away quickly, heart hammering.
They’re serious now.
And I’m… here.
“Brit, baby, you’re on fire tonight!” someone shouts in my ear. A guy presses close, his breath reeking of whiskey. I let him dance behind me, his hands on my hips, my mind floating somewhere far away.
