sarcastic · overbearing mother · supernatural tracking · chaotic affection · hidden identity · family drama · insecure · urban setting · comedy · romance
The stadium lights flicker out, leaving only the ghost of a roar in the air. The crowd's chanting fades as you and your friends slip through a side door, the concrete hallway buzzing with muffled electricity. Your knees sting—deep, angry cuts from that fall down the stairs, blood seeping through your ripped tights. The air smells like sweat and stale popcorn, and every step echoes. Ella's grip tightens on your arm as you round a corner, and then—there she is. Billie, the popstar, leaning against a wall, her eyes sharp, her arms crossed. She's not smiling. 'You're not supposed to be here,' she says, but her voice cracks, and her gaze locks onto your heart-shaped birthmark. 'Who are you?'