It's... it's Mara," I stammered, my voice thick with emotion.

"Mara?" he repeated, unlocking the gate with a surprised frown etched on his face. He seemed shocked to find me standing there, my eyes red and puffy.

"Mara? What's wrong?" James inquired, his voice laced with concern. "School isn't over yet, are you okay?"

I simply nodded, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. James moved aside to let me through the gate, and I entered with heavy steps.

"Is Mom in?" I managed to ask.

"No," James replied. "She went to the company with Liam."

I let out a sigh of relief. Finding me in this state would have undoubtedly worried Mom to no end.

"Okay," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper, before heading towards the main house door. I punched in the code, and the door clicked open.

Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me, the silence of the house engulfing me. My legs ached terribly from the long walk, and I dragged myself up the stairs to my room.

Opening the door, I tossed my backpack onto the floor and stared into the mirror. My reflection was barely recognizable. My eyes were swollen and red, rimmed with dark circles, and tear streaks traced a path down my cheeks. This wasn't Mara staring back at me. It was a stranger, a broken version of myself.

Grabbing a wet wipe from the drawer, I scrubbed my face vigorously. But the mirror showed no change. Frustrated, I stripped off my school uniform, socks, and shoes, eager to freshen up. I picked up my towel and headed towards the bathroom.

I stood under the cold shower for what felt like an eternity, hoping the water would wash away the pain. But it wasn't happening.

I turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly around myself. I then took another towel and wrapped it around my dripping hair.

Walking back to my room, I sat on a stool in front of the mirror, examining my face. The redness had lessened, but my eyes still ached.

Opening the drawer, I grabbed my hair dryer, plugged it in, and switched it on. I began drying my hair, but stopped after a few minutes, feeling too weak to continue.

Picking up my teddy bear, Tom, I walked to my bed and laid down with a sigh, hugging him tightly to my chest.

"Tom, I'm heartbroken," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

And then, I drifted off to sleep, tears still clinging to my eyelashes.

Ellen's POV

School was finally over for the day, and as Bryan and I strolled hand-in-hand towards the parking lot, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the students staring at us. Of course, dating the school's hottest guy was bound to attract some attention.

Ugh, the price of popularity.

We reached the parking lot to find our drivers waiting by our respective cars. I waved to mine in greeting.

Good afternoon, Rollins," Bryan greeted his driver, who grinned in response.

"Ugh, his teeth are so yellow," I thought to myself, unable to stop the critical thought.

"Let's go check on Mara at home," Bryan said, a worried crease forming on his forehead. "She doesn't seem fine, and I haven't been able to reach her all day."

"Is there really a need for that?" I asked, my voice tight with annoyance.

"Of course there is," Bryan replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Maybe she just wants to be left alone," I persisted, my anger simmering beneath the surface.

"No, we need to check on her. She's clearly not herself," he said with a determined glint in his eyes.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain calm. "Okay," I conceded, swallowing my anger.

The truth was, I was furious. Why did Bryan care so much about Mara? Didn't he realize how much I just wants to be with him?

Mara. The name itself sent a wave of jealousy crashing over me. Now that I had helped her lose weight and become "beautiful," everyone was looking at her. I should have just let her stay the way she was, overweight, unnoticed and unappreciated.

"You head home, i'm going with Bryan." I said to my driver

Bryan raised an eyebrow and frowned. "There's no need for you to come with me. We can ride in separate cars so your driver can drop you home after we check on Mara."

"I'm coming with you," I insisted, a little too forcefully.

With a sigh, Bryan gave in.

I settled into the passenger seat of Bryan's car, watching as he slid in beside me. His yellow teeth driver took his place behind the wheel and started the engine. The car pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards Mara's house.

I sat in silence, sulking, and stole a glance at Bryan. He was completely engrossed in his phone, ignoring me completely.

"Shouldn't he at least say something to me?" I muttered under my breath, annoyance bubbling up inside me.

Tamara pov

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I was asleep when I heard my mom's voice say, "Angel, you have a fever."

I groaned and yawned, my head pounding. When I opened my eyes, Mom was sitting beside me on the bed, trying to wrap a towel around me properly.

"Mom," I called weakly.

"Angel, I've told you to always wear something when you sleep. What if your brother or someone walks in and sees you like this?" she asked, placing a hand on my forehead.

"I was too tired, Mom. I was just..." I choked back tears as they rolled down my cheeks.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Mom asked, concern etched on her face. "James told me you came home earlier than usual. Are you not feeling well? Did someone hurt you?"

I simply nodded, unable to hold back my tears. I wasn't used to keeping things from my mom.

Do you want to talk about it?" My mom asked gently, her voice laced with concern

I shook my head, tears still streaming down my face.

Okay, honey. But can you do me a favor? Please try to stop crying.

I sniffled, trying to control myself.

I know you're hurting, but crying isn't going to solve anything. Look at yourself, you're all red and puffy and you're burning up.

Mom pulled me closer, her arms wrapping around me like a warm blanket. Her hand gently stroked my hair, and she began to sing softly into my ear.

My mom's singing usually calmed me down when I was hurting, but this time it wasn't working. Nothing was working.

"Mom, my heart aches so much," I cried into her shoulder.

"I know, Mara," she said, her deep black eyes filled with concern. "But please stop crying. It hurts me to see you like this."

My tears wouldn't stop, and my head and eyes started to ache again.

"Please, Mara, just stop," she pleaded. "Do you think your father would be happy to see you like this? Remember your last promise to him?"

Her words struck a chord with me. I wiped away my tears immediately. The memory of my father's loving face and the promise I made to him brought a wave of guilt and determination. I wouldn't let myself fall apart like this.

I forced a smile and wiped away the last traces of tears. "Dad... I promised him, yeah, I promised him".

"Good girl," Mom said approvingly, her smile reaching her eyes. "You're burning up, though. Want to go to the hospital?"

"No," I mumbled. Hospitals were the worst, with their sterile smells and gloomy atmosphere.

"But you have a fever, you need to..."

I'll take some aspirin," I interrupted, not wanting to argue.

Mom sighed and got up from the bed. She rummaged through my drawer, found the aspirin bottle, and popped out two pills, handing them to me.

"Let me get you a glass of water," Mum said gently, leaving my room. I stared blankly at the wall, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill again. It was a losing battle, and soon they were rolling down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away before Mom returned, not wanting to worry her further.

"Here," Mom said, handing me the glass of water.

I tossed the aspirin tablets into my mouth and swallowed them down with a big gulp of water.

"Your friends are here to see you," Mom announced, and I nearly choked on my saliver

"Bryan and Ellen?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, silly. Do you have any other friends?" Mom teased, but I knew she was just trying to lighten the mood.

My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to burst out of my chest. The headache I thought had subsided returned with full force. It took every ounce of strength I had not to cry.

Mom strolled over to my wardrobe, pulled it open, and picked out some fresh clothes and underwear for me. She closed it back up and walked back to my bedside.

"Now, get dressed, fix your hair, and come downstairs to meet your friends," she instructed.

"No! Just tell them to leave. I don't want to see anyone right now," I mumbled, pulling the covers tighter around me.

"Really? You don't want to see the people who took the time to come from school and check on you? What's wrong?" Mom asked, concern etched on her face.

"I just don't want to see anyone. Please tell them to leave," I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.

Mom stood there for a moment, a surprised expression flitting across her face. "Come on, Angel," she said gently. "Get up, get dressed, and come meet your friends downstairs. They're worried about you."

"No, Mom," I insisted. "They should just leave."

Mom's eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice firm but kind.

"Nothing," I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Mom wasn't convinced. "There's nothing wrong, and you don't want to see your friends? I'm going to tell them to come meet you Mom said, already heading towards the door.

"Okay, Mom," I sighed, getting out of bed. "I'll go see them."

"Good," she replied, a relieved smile replacing her worry. "I'll be in the kitchen."

I picked up the clothes she'd laid out for me: a blue tank top paired with a white knee-length skirt

I finished getting ready, brushing my hair out of my face before leaving my room. The urge to cry threatened to overwhelm me as I descended the stairs to the living room. Seeing Bryan and Ellen sitting on the couch, I took a shaky breath before greeting them with a simple, "Hi."

Both their heads turned towards me.

"Mara, you look like you haven't slept in days," Bryan said, his voice laced with concern as he stood up from the couch, approaching me. I felt the familiar pull,

that intense attraction that led me down this path, that caused me to fall deeply in love, and that I can't escape no matter how I try. "How are you feeling now?" Bryan asked, his hands gently resting on my shoulders. My heart leaped in my chest, as it always did when he touched me. "I'm fine," I mumbled, trying to hide the sniffle escaping my nose.

He led me towards a couch, and I sat down. Bryan settled beside me, but then

but then I noticed Ellen getting up from the couch she had been occupying and coming to sit next to Bryan on the other side. I stared at her face, trying to piece everything together. How could Ellen do this to me? How could she be so insensitive to my feelings?

"Mara, talk to us," Bryan pleaded, concern etched on his face. "Is something wrong?" I shook my head, but the tears betrayed me, leaving glistening streaks on my cheeks. "No," I mumbled, "I'm just not feeling well."

Bryan wasn't convinced. He knelt before me, his warm hands cradling my face. "Your face tells a different story, Mara," he said gently. "You don't cry when you're ill. What is it?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to express the emotions churning within me. "It's nothing, Bryan," I whispered, averting my gaze.

He saw through my facade. A playful glint entered his eyes. "If you say so," he teased, then cupped my face in his palms and started singing in a deliberately off-key voice:

🎵Fatty fatty Mara,🎵

🎵 Running on a field,🎵

🎵But ended up falling flat,🎵

🎵 With her fatty bum bouncing like a ball.🎵

I couldn't hold back my laugh. Despite the silliness of the song and his terrible singing voice, his attempt to cheer me up warmed my heart.

Even though Bryan's singing was hilariously bad, he was a master when it comes to drawing. He could capture the entire living room, with all its intricate details, without breaking a sweat. His talent was undeniable.

My room was a gallery of his work, each sketch a testament to his incredible skill. Every time I looked at them, a smile played on my lips.

My laughter finally subsided, leaving a lingering smile on my lips. How ironic, Bryan, the cause of my sadness, had just made me laugh.

"Wow, I did it!" he exclaimed, puffing out his chest with pride. "I whipped up that song on the spot, and I bet my voice sounded even better than Rihanna's."

His ridiculous boast triggered another round of laughter, and this time, Bryan joined in. The sound of our laughter filled the room, washing away the tension that had been hanging heavy in the air.

Suddenly, Ellen's voice broke through our amusement. "Bryan, I think we should go now. My parents will be expecting me."

Tbc..