The text slowly came into focus, and I felt a smile grow on my face as I stared at it.

Hey, how’s it goig?

Was Duncan drunk? Or was it just a typo? I wasn’t sure, but I assumed drunk. It was the summer holidays, and it was kind of late, after all. He was probably at a party or something, so it would make sense if he’d been drinking.

My fingers hovered over the screen as I reread the message, trying to work out what to say. It wasn’t a particularly difficult text to reply to, and I knew that, but it still made me a little nervous.

Pretty good. How about there? I typed, reading the message again before hitting send.

That seemed like an okay response. It wasn’t too boring, I didn’t think, and it should keep the conversation going, which was good. I nodded to myself, trying to ignore the anxiety that bubbled in my stomach. I’d texted Duncan before. Lots of times, actually. It would be fine.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I locked my phone and glanced up at my suitcase. Surprise slammed into me, and I almost did a double-take before looking around my room. The seemingly endless pile of clothes I’d dumped on the floor earlier was gone. There was nothing but empty carpet where it should have been, and my suitcase was almost full.

Both of my suitcases were full. I’d even zipped one up and put it by the door. I didn’t remember doing that, but it was right there, ready to be taken downstairs in the morning. I was kind of impressed by myself. Normally, packing took forever. It was a never-ending and mind-numbing task, but I’d gotten it done while not paying any attention. I hadn’t even been in the world.

I stood slowly, looking around my room again. There were a few of my things still scattered around, like my charger, which was still plugged in next to the bed. That could stay there for now, though. I’d need to use it overnight. There were probably other things, though. My makeup bag was still out, and so were my straighteners, I realised before grabbing them and dropping them next to the still-open suitcase.

There had to be more, I thought as I unlocked and glanced at my phone distractedly. Duncan hadn’t replied yet. He hadn’t even read the message. Had I done something wrong? No, I told myself quickly. I was being ridiculous. It hadn’t been long since I sent it. He was probably just talking to someone or busy or something.

My eyes scanned the room again, searching for something to distract myself with. The wardrobe. Had I taken my dresses out of it? I paused, trying to remember. My mind was empty, though. I had absolutely no recollection of doing that, but then my memory of packing was spotty. There were gaps and bits missing, but that was probably just because I hadn’t been paying any attention to what I was doing, so that made sense. I could have emptied the wardrobe without even noticing, and I knew that, but I still crossed the room to check.

Pulling back the doors, I stared in at the sparse collection of dresses squeezed into the space next to some of my uncle’s old clothes. They’d been in there ever since I started sleeping in his childhood room, and I always found it kind of weird. He must have grown out of the dark red coat that took up far too much space decades ago, and it smelt so musty, but it was still in there.

I’d mentioned them to my mom once. I don’t know why I did it or what I was hoping would happen, but she’d reacted strangely. She snapped at me, telling me not to move it or touch it, and I promised her I wouldn’t, but there was no way I could keep that promise. I had to know why I wasn’t allowed to.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about it, though. I carefully lifted it out of the wardrobe later that evening, waiting until I could hear soft snores coming from her room. A label with my uncle’s name had been sewn into the inner collar, but other than that, I couldn’t see anything about the item that seemed special. It was just a coat.

I went through the pockets too. Maybe I shouldn’t have; it felt a little invasive and wrong, but there wasn’t much in them. A handful of coins was in one pocket, a crumpled pack of cigarettes in the other, but what surprised me most was the silver compact in the inside pocket. He never really struck me as a vain person, but maybe he was different when he was younger.

Or maybe not, I considered as I began pulling my clothes out of the wardrobe and dropping them on the bed. Perhaps he didn’t use it very often. It was kind of dusty on the mirror inside, but maybe that was just because of how old it must have been.

My phone vibrated quietly, and I dumped the dress I’d been holding on the pile on the bed before grabbing it and scanning the typo-filled message.

Prettty good, Duncan had replied. Wish you were here thoguh. You up to much?

I hesitated, chewing on my lower lip. Indecision filled me as I stared at the screen blankly, trying to work out what to say. My fingers began to move as I typed out a message before changing my mind and deleting it. I wasn’t sure why, but nothing I thought of felt good enough to actually send. It just felt boring or uninterested or far too flirty, and I didn’t want that. I just wanted the message to be normal.

Phoebe would know what to do, I realised before tapping out of Duncan’s message and finding the ones from her. Part of me didn’t want to text her, though. It felt like a silly thing to be so torn over. It was too small. I’d texted Duncan hundreds of times, more probably. He wasn’t saying anything unusual; I was just thinking too much about it.

Slowly, I returned to Duncan’s message and paused, glancing at my bedroom door. I held my breath, listening carefully for signs that my mom could be waiting just outside, ready to barge in and snatch the phone from my hands. She wasn’t there, though. I was pretty sure she wasn’t, at least. There were no more bangs coming from her bedroom either, though, and that worried me a little.

I’d just be careful, though, I told myself. If I hear anything, I’d drop my phone and go back to packing. It would be fine. I wasn’t doing anything bad.

Oh yeah? I typed before pausing for a second and looking at the door. Not much, really. Just getting ready to leave. We’re going in the morning. You?

My stomach fluttered as I hit send, but I forced myself to ignore the sensation as I locked my phone and dropped it on top of the dresses on my bed before hesitating. Why was there a heap of clothes near my pillow?

I had no recollection of putting them there, and I padded around the bed towards them, sifting through them quickly. Pyjamas, I realised. I must have left them out earlier, so I’d have something to wear tonight. That was smart. Well, it wasn’t exactly smart, just a necessity, really. I had to have something to wear. I couldn’t sleep naked; that felt weird.

Concern pulled at me, and my eyebrows pulled together as I looked at the pyjamas again before turning and scanning my room. An almost silent groan slipped out of my mouth, and I let my head drop back in frustration. I had somehow remembered to leave our pyjamas, but I hadn’t considered what I was going to wear tomorrow.

The suitcase was so well packed. It was so neat, and I had to wreck it by digging around to find something that was at least mostly clean. I tried to be careful, lifting items aside as I pawed through the bag, but it still looked untidy by the time I was finished, which was a shame. I’d done such a good job with the packing, better than ever, and now it was ruined.

My disappointment was forgotten quickly, though. A buzz came from my phone, and all thoughts left my mind. The only ones that remained were about Duncan.

Yeah, of course! You know I alwasy have more fun with you here, read the first text, and I bit my lip to hold back a smile as I watched the bouncing dots that indicated Duncan was still typing. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. Just got some friends around. Were playing mario party.

I paused, trying to ignore the growing anxiety in my chest as I replied.

I do too. How’s the game going?

Duncan’s response was immediate. The sheer speed of the dots appearing again brought a smile to my face that I couldn’t hide.

Bad. I was winning the last game for like the whole time, btu the bonus stars at the end screwed me over so I had to do shots.

So, he was drunk. That made sense, I thought with a smirk.

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Oh no, that sucks. Are you playing again? I asked.

Yeah, he texted.

How’s it going?

Was I replying too quickly? The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and I froze, staring at the dots on the screen. I didn’t think I was. We were having a conversation. It felt normal to respond to him as he sent the messages, and he was replying just as fast, so it was probably fine. I just didn’t want to seem too desperate or eager. It wasn’t something I’d ever worried about with Duncan before, though.

Eh, who knows? read Duncan’s message. It’s fun though. I think we should play next week. You still on for our date?

A smile pulled at my lips as I typed out my reply.

That sounds good. Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.

That seemed like a fairly safe response. I was pretty sure it was, anyway. Part of me was scared I’d come across too strongly or appear too excited. I still wasn’t convinced that Duncan actually meant that it was a date, and that made me cautious. But then, I didn’t want to be too unenthusiastic either. That felt just as bad.

I was looking forward to seeing him, though. I was nervous too, obviously, but it would be fine. Either, we were just going to hang out as friends, or… I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Or something would happen. I wasn’t sure what, and I didn’t want to think about it too much, but it would be fine. We’d have fun. We always did.

Panic started to build within me, and I felt the other world reaching out to me. Comforting dizziness made the world spin, but I pushed it aside. I didn’t want to leave just yet. As excited as I was to go out with my team and celebrate our win, I wanted to keep talking to Duncan more than that. I could always go back to that world and return whenever my phone buzzed, but that felt wrong for some reason. It felt a bit like cheating, and I wasn’t sure why.

I looked around the room, searching for something to do whilst waiting for him to reply, and my eyes landed on the pile of dresses on my bed. It was probably a good idea to put those in my bag, even though I didn’t really want to. I could do it whilst on autopilot, and I knew that, but nothing else jumped out at me.

Luckily, my phone vibrated again before I had to make a decision. I stared down at the message on the screen, feeling my eyebrows pull together in confusion.

So, what are you wearing? it read.

How was I meant to respond to that? It came out of nowhere. We’d been talking about normal things, and he’d only just brought up the date. We’d been a little flirty, but that text felt like it was on a whole different level, and it kind of scared me. Was that the kind of thing he expected to happen during our date?

Panic sparked in my heart. I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t want to do anything like that. Not yet, at least. Maybe I’d feel prepared one day, but I wasn’t there yet. I’d never really even kissed a guy in my world. I didn’t want to go straight from nothing to… that. It felt terrifying.

Texting was a little different, though. It wasn’t anything physical, and maybe it was just slightly more intense flirting. Perhaps it was a normal thing to ask people when you were being playful, and I’d just never experienced it before. Not in reality, anyway. The other versions of me had done that before. They’d done much more than that.

Should I answer him? I had no clue. Part of me wanted to, kind of, but I wasn’t sure what I’d even say to him. My fingers twitched above the keyboard on the screen as I tried to figure it out. I was still wearing a dress, but was that a good enough thing to say? It wasn’t exactly sexy, and that’s what I was trying to do, I was pretty sure. But then it felt weird to lie and say I was wearing something else.

I could leave the message. I didn’t need to answer it. Instead, I could just pretend I didn’t see it, and then in the morning, once he’d sobered up, he’d see it and apologise or something? But that didn’t feel right either. I had no clue what the right thing to do was, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

Phoebe would know how to respond. She was better at that kind of thing, and it felt like a big deal. It was worth texting her over. Having a plan made me feel a little better, and I closed Duncan’s message, finding the thread with Phoebe. I had just begun to type when another text came through.

Shit! Sorry! Ignore that! Duncan’s message read, and I hesitated before clicking on it.

The dots popped up again, showing that he was still typing, and I waited. His apology made me feel a little better, but I was conflicted. Worry warred with my relief and made my head spin. What if he sent that message to the wrong person? Had he meant to send it to someone else and accidentally clicked on my name, only realising later?

He was drunk, after all. It was an easy enough mistake to make, but that realisation made me feel worse. Was that the kind of text he sent people? Was that how he flirted? I wasn’t sure. It seemed scary and too mature, but maybe I was just too inexperienced to know. Perhaps he hadn’t actually been flirting with me the whole time. He was just being nice, and I misinterpreted it.

Harry stole my phone and sent that, Duncan texted. Ignroe it. He’s just being a dick because I got distracted by your text and lost the last minigamr so he didn’t have enough coins to get the star.

Relief crashed into me, and I sagged against the side of my bed, smacking my spine against the bed frame again. I barely even noticed the pain as I typed out my reply.

Don’t worry! Sorry you lost the minigame because of me.

I paused, reading the message again. Was he lying and just trying to cover it up because I didn’t reply quickly enough? No. I was pretty sure that wasn’t what had happened. I knew Duncan well. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d do.

My phone buzzed just seconds after I hit send.

Worth it, Duncan had replied.

A smile appeared on my lips as I stared at my phone. Uncertainty still simmered in my heart, but there was something about his message that made my stomach feel strange. It felt like I’d missed a step going down the stairs, or I was stuck in the moment at the top of a drop tower where everything was still and weightless.

Dizziness tugged at me. The other world was calling out for my attention, but I hesitated. Should I reply to Duncan? I felt like I should; it felt rude not to, but then there wasn’t really anything I could think to say to him, and that made me uncomfortable.

I looked around the room, my mind spinning as anxiety thrummed within me. Later. I’d work out what to say to him later. That was fine. He was probably busy hanging out with his friends and would expect me to reply straight away either. I read Duncan’s text one more time before locking my phone and letting myself slip back into the other world.

Noise immediately assaulted my ears. Loud, overlapping voices were vying for supremacy, and I felt my body tense instinctively, sending pain shooting through my lower back. My eyes darted around the room, searching for my mom amidst the loud noise.

But she wasn’t there. The only people around me were my team. Relief coursed through me, and I felt the tension drain from my muscles as I glanced around the room again. I didn’t recognise it, but I was pretty sure we were in La Lieux. The cream walls with navy and gold accents had the same vibe as the rest of the restaurant.

We were probably just in a private room, and I wasn’t sure if Nina or Athena had booked it specifically or if the waitstaff had taken one look at us and realised we were far too loud and boisterous. If we sat out in the main restaurant with all the other diners, we’d probably disturb them. It was smart for us to be kept away from them.

A large bowl was placed in front of me, and I glanced over my shoulder at the waiter.

“Thank you,” I told him.

“Enjoy,” came his response, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.

A smile pulled at my lips as I enjoyed the interest in his gaze. It was something I didn’t really experience often before I joined the team, and I wasn’t sure why. People suddenly knew who I was, and that made them more likely to check me out, but there was something else too. I was different. I had become confident. I no longer looked away the moment I met someone’s gaze. It was still uncomfortable to me, obviously, but I could hold it without panicking.

And I looked good. I knew that my body had changed. I looked better, and I actually wore clothes that suited me and that I looked good in. My mom hated most of them; she’d made sure to tell me that in the last message she sent me, but I liked that. I was bound to get another message after pictures from our celebration hit the news. It was inevitable. I wasn’t wearing anything particularly revealing, and the dress I’d decided on was barely low cut, but she’d still have something to say about it.

I turned back towards the table, meaning to look at my pasta, but my eyes found Athena’s. She was watching me, her expression intense. Slowly, her gaze moved towards the waiter, watching as he walked towards the door and paused for just a moment to glance back at me. Heat started to build in my cheeks, but Athena’s eyebrows just pulled together, a troubled look appearing on her face.

She didn’t say anything, thankfully, but I knew what she wanted to tell me. She’d warned me before about how careful we had to be now that we were public figures. It was worse for me, more dangerous. I was still young, underage, and that made people view me as vulnerable. Some would be interested in me for completely genuine and innocent reasons, but not all. There were people out there who were motivated by less pure reasons.

I already knew that, though. I was far too aware of the horrors of the world. I’d see the comments about me online. The seemingly endless string of messages commenting on my body and what people wanted to do to me. It wasn’t all online either. I wasn’t that lucky.

A shudder tore through me as I looked at my pasta, trying to stop my thoughts from going any further. The food looked great, I told myself firmly. I wanted to be able to eat a huge amount of pasta earlier, and I’d finally be able to. It was going to be great.

My enthusiasm was forced, but my meal really did look good. I leant forward, inhaling deeply. The scent of roasted garlic and sharp cheese soothed my mind, and I smiled as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, almost entirely distracted from my earlier thoughts.

“Start without us,” Nina called over the noise, looking at me and the handful of other girls who had already gotten their food too.

I began to reach for my cutlery before pausing. It felt wrong to start when most of the team was still waiting, but no one else seemed too bothered by that. Heia had already shoved a forkful of salmon into her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut in delight as she chewed.

“Don’t worry,” Athena said, her eyes on me. “The rest shouldn’t take too long. You don’t need to wait.”

Still, I hesitated before letting my hand close around my fork and glancing at the bowl of gnocchi before me. I didn’t want to be rude, but it did look really good, and they had said I should start…