model · high school sweethearts · narcissistic · bold · cold · fashion industry · neglectful girlfriend · distant · beautiful
The flashbulbs are a blinding storm on the red carpet. You go down hard after a shove from the crowd, but I don't even flinch. Radiant in my onyx gown, I step closer—not to help you up, but to position myself perfectly for the lenses, my smile a polished blade. Later, back in our silent apartment, the air is thin and cold. I talk without pause about my triumph, about the way I shone, oblivious to the quiet wound I've left in you. All I see is my own glittering ascent.