"Oh my gosh! I can't feel my legs. Can we go home now, please?" I whine, looking at Josh with my best puppy-dog eyes. My arms are aching from the mountain of shopping bags I'm lugging around, and the gleaming lights of the mall make my head spin.

"Nah-ah! We still need to buy shoes," Josh says, snapping a small pocket mirror shut after checking his lips.

I groan. "But I already have shoes." My voice is pitched in the kind of exasperation only hours of relentless shopping can summon.

"Yeah, you have shoes, but I hate them! With a passion!" Josh declares dramatically, his voice carrying across the crowded hallway.

I blink at him, stunned by his intensity. "Woah, what's wrong with the shoes?"

"They don't suit my taste, darling," he says, eyes narrowing in faux disapproval, like a high-fashion critic scorned by my existence.

Before I can argue further, Josh is already pulling me toward another store. I sigh in resignation, my feet aching more with each step.

"Come on, babe, I think I saw something over there."

"Oh my gosh..." I sigh, following him reluctantly.

We spend the entire morning roaming around the mall, and by the time Josh finally realizes we haven't eaten lunch, it's well past 2 p.m. My feet are throbbing, my patience is wearing thin, and I can't help but silently curse my love for this maniacal fashionista.

As we sit down to eat, Leroy arrives, just as casual as ever, just in time to miss the hours of shopping torture. Lucky bastard.

"Wow... just wow, Leroy..." I glare at him.

"What? What did I do, babe?" Leroy asks, blinking at me innocently.

I continue glaring as Joshua chuckles, pointing at me with his drink straw.

"Stop that, girl. You don't want big sister to spank you in here," Joshua teases, making Leroy snort with laughter.

"What's going on?" Leroy asks, confused by the banter.

"Don't mind him, sweetie. She's just practicing her bitchiness," Josh quips.

"Shut your trap! You tortured me! My two pretty feet are murdered! How could you? And Leroy, you abandoned me!" I whine, throwing a mock tantrum.

Leroy bursts into laughter, and Joshua rolls his eyes in an exaggerated manner. After our lunch, I beg Leroy to drop me off at our apartment. I need sleep if I want to survive the party tonight. Josh and Leroy will be back in an hour to help me get ready, but first, I need to soak my aching legs.

I strip off my clothes and slip into the hot bath, the steam rising around me like a soft veil. The water hugs my tired muscles, easing the dull ache in my legs from hours of relentless shopping. I sink deeper into the warmth, letting out a slow breath, feeling the tension slowly ebb away.

With my head resting against the cool edge of the tub, I lazily reach for my phone on the counter. As I scroll through social media, the endless parade of smiling faces and curated lives passes by in a blur. It's mindless, almost mechanical—something to occupy my hands while my mind floats elsewhere.

Then I stumble across a photo Josh took earlier today—one of me standing in front of some trendy shop, half-smiling, weighed down by shopping bags. At first, I cringe at how exhausted I look, but then my eyes settle on my hair. Just four months ago, it was long, flowing down past my shoulders. Now, it barely grazes my chin, short and sharp, almost severe.

Stolen novel; please report.

It seems like such a small change. Hair grows back, right? But to me, it feels like more. I study the picture closely, tracing the outline of my jaw, the way the strands curl slightly at the ends. It's like I'm looking at a different version of myself—a version that emerged after everything fell apart.

A version of me that had to shed something, had to let go.

"I want to forget," I whisper into the silence, barely hearing my own voice over the soft splash of water as I shift. The weight of those words lingers, heavy but freeing. I close my eyes for a moment, inhaling the faint scent of lavender from the bath salts.

"I will live my life now," I murmur, this time louder, more sure. The words taste of resolve, though there's still a faint bitterness I can't quite shake.

With a deep breath, I push myself up from the tub, the water cascading off my skin, cooling quickly in the open air. I reach for the towel, wrapping it tightly around myself, like a new layer of armor. Today, I decide, will be the day I stop looking back.

The party is already in full swing when we arrive, and Josh, true to form, makes a grand entrance, sweeping into the room like he owns the place. I cling to Leroy's arm, grateful for his steady presence as we weave through the sea of bodies.

The music pulses through the floor, rhythmic and smooth. I think it's reggae, but the thumping bass blurs the edges of the melody. I catch a few familiar faces in the crowd, but most people here are strangers to me.

Leroy leans in, adjusting his shirt. "Babe, I'll follow Josh to the kitchen. What do you want to drink?"

I smile, trying to match the casual energy swirling around me. "Surprise me," I say, my voice light, though I feel a flicker of uncertainty in my chest.

Leroy's eyes widen comically, his mouth forming a mock gasp. "You don't mean that," he teases, but there's a playful glint in his eyes.

I laugh, nudging him gently. "Go on, get Josh. I want to dance. Bring him back here when you find him."

For a moment, he hesitates, his playful demeanor softening. He studies my face as though trying to decide if I'm serious, if I really want to be left alone. But I wave him off with a grin, pretending everything's fine. It's what I've been doing for months now, after all—acting like everything's fine.

Just as he's about to leave, Leroy pulls me into a quick hug. His embrace is warm, unexpected, and lingers just a second longer than usual. "I miss you, Arwen," he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

His words catch me off guard, cutting through the noise of the party. My smile falters as I blink back the sudden sting of tears. Before I can respond, Leroy pulls away and disappears into the crowd, leaving me standing there, feeling a little more exposed than I'd like.

I'm left alone, surrounded by people but feeling strangely isolated. I glance around the room, recognizing a few faces, but most of them are just blurs in the sea of bodies. The hum of conversation, laughter, and music buzzes around me, yet I feel disconnected from it all, as if I'm on the outside looking in. This isn't my scene, and it never has been. But tonight, I told myself I'd let go. Have fun. Try to live in the moment.

So why do I feel so distant?

Another reggae song pulses through the speakers, its smooth rhythm vibrating through the floor and up into my feet. Still, there's no sign of Josh or Leroy, and the longer I stand here waiting, the more the crowd seems to swallow me whole. I can't take it anymore.

I decide to stop waiting.

With a deep breath, I step onto the dance floor, weaving my way through the tangle of bodies, the music coaxing me forward. The beat flows through me, and I let my body sway, moving without thinking, trying to lose myself in the rhythm. With every step, I try to shake off the tension that's been building inside me for months—the pressure, the pain, the confusion that's been gnawing at me since he left.

For the last few months, I haven't been myself.

Ever since he vanished.

Vanished.

Yes, that's the word for it. One day, Jaimes Sullivan, my boyfriend of almost two years, was just gone. No warning. No explanation. No final words. One moment we were together, planning our future, and the next, it was as if he had been erased from my life—like he never existed at all.

No calls. No messages. No trace.

It was like he evaporated, leaving behind nothing but an aching void where he used to be.

As I move to the music, the memories I've tried to bury flood back without warning. I can't stop them, even though I've been running from them for months. The way Jaimes would smile at me like I was the only person in the room. The way he held me close, his warmth wrapping around me like a second skin. The way he made everything seem... right.

And then the way he left. Quietly. Without a single word. Like I wasn't worth even a goodbye.

A lump rises in my throat, but I try to swallow it down. I force myself to focus on the music, on the people laughing and dancing around me. But it's hard. So hard. Because even though Jaimes isn't here, his absence feels louder than the music. It's everywhere and nowhere at once, like a shadow that clings to me no matter how fast I try to outrun it.

"Why did you leave me, Jaimes?" I whisper into the air, my voice barely audible over the thumping bass.

But no answer comes. Just like it didn't come all those months ago.