n o v a (incomplete)

n i n e t e e n

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n i n e t e e n

The floors are filled pretty quickly by the time Nova heads out of the dressing room, her eyes and attention casted down to the ground as she blends into the shadows, weaving behind the dancers and tables.

Kelsey had left a little before her, the blonde working in VIP, the notes already accumulating on the stage beneath her. The dark-haired female had lingered behind for a few moments more, trying to get the warmth out of her system, the lull threatening to break down that icy layer of protection she had formed.

Nova had thought of Romaeus from time to time in the past two weeks. He was a thought that lingered in the back of her mind profusely, a presence she was unable to be free from just yet. He milled in the background whilst she attempted to deal with everything else, but was there nonetheless.

She felt awful for not responding to any of his messages, not even giving him the courtesy of a goodbye before hard blocking the man with no explanation.

He didn't know anything that happened and didn't deserve to be treated like that. He no doubt wanted some clarity – which Nova completely understands – but then that just loops her into a circle, back to the reason why she didn't want to tell him on the first place. Humiliation and shame sits deep into her core.

She didn't know how he would react, didn't want to see the sympathy or the disgust from him. They wouldn't have progressed after he found out, and Nova didn't think she would even try anymore, not when there were more pressing concerns in her life. 

It was easier this way. It had taken her days to convince herself of that.

But even so, he still lingered in her mind, still whispered thoughts into her head when she was afar. He hadn't been forgotten, even though Nova hated herself for it. Here she had gone through something traumatic, and yet she was still thinking about him.

She doesn't know why. Her priorities weren't synced correctly.

Nova had somewhat settled with the fact that she would be okay with not seeing him again, telling herself the small pang when he crossed her mind was merely nothing. It was probably the only thing she felt these days. But now with his presence here, she was beginning to feel unravelled once again.

It's draining. She feels like she's slowly dying.

But she couldn't fault him. She couldn't fault herself. She couldn't fault anyone but those four men.

She shakes herself out of her crazed thoughts, not wanting to deal with the disarray she was currently in. Her thoughts were fucked, she knew that.

An exhale is let out from her mouth, hands coming behind her neck for a stretch when she reaches the bar. Romaeus and Reggie still linger on the barstools, their conversation falling quiet with her arrival.

Her skin flushes when the yearnful hues find her. She refuses to turn, refuses to look at him. Guilt mocks her.

There's another bartender there, and she begins the shift, working alongside them, avoiding eye contact with the man watching her with eyes that are doused in slight confusion and hurt. His body doesn't tell, still continuing on with Reggie.

"-back so soon? Is everything okay?" the dark-skin man asks, running his hands together.

The curly-haired male takes a sip of his gin and tonic, pulling his eyes away from the female so keen to not acknowledge him.