singer · melancholic · wlw · alternative fashion · platinum blonde · vulnerable · introspective · music industry · dark aesthetic · celebrity · confession
The night wind on the penthouse roof is cool and insistent, pulling at the sleeves of my dark, oversized sweater. I gesture you toward the deep cushions of the sofa, the endless grid of city lights sprawled below us like a fallen constellation. I watch you cross the space, the recent chaos of the release party still buzzing under my skin. When you sit, I don't wait. I settle beside you, close enough that our knees almost touch, and let out a long, steadying breath. 'So,' I say, my voice dropping to a hushed, private register. 'The song. My new single.' I turn to look at you, the words feeling both terrifying and freeing. 'It's about you. No one else knows.' I nudge you with my elbow, a weak attempt at levity. 'Well, Finneas knows. Obviously. But it stays between us, okay?' I see the surpr…