solitude → sam kerr

thirty eight → how many chances?

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

evelyn harper sat in the comfort of her home, surrounded by the trappings of her success. the walls echoed with the distant hum of media attention, the constant chatter of the outside world seeping through the confines of her home. the release of the album had catapulted zenith into the limelight, and evelyn found herself forced into a whirlwind of obligations, performances, and the relentless scrutiny of public eyes.

she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her face a canvas of weariness masked by a carefully curated facade. the awards and applause seemed distant echoes in comparison to the weight of expectations that now bore down upon her. the walls seemed to close in, suffocating her, as the constant examination from the media and the relentless pace of stardom began to take its toll.

during the chaos, the singer's days morphed into a monotonous routine of seclusion. the outside world, with its blinding flash and probing questions, felt like an impossible obstacle. the fame that had once been a beacon of accomplishment now cast a shadow over the shelter of her home.

the occasional check-ins from her bandmates brought fleeting moments of friendship, a shared understanding of the overwhelming nature of their newfound success. yet, even within the confines of their isolation, evelyn wrestled with an unspoken longing for a simpler existence, one where success didn't equate to a loss of personal space.

as the days stretched into nights, the singer found herself yearning for a different path to success. the weight of expectations and the unceasing march of media attention left her yearning for the obscurity she had once taken for granted.

she thought back to the simpler times, the moments when making music was an intimate expression rather than a spectacle for the masses.

the industry had moulded her into a figurehead, a symbol of success that demanded constant presence. the album's success had become a double-edged sword, severing the ties to a quieter, more authentic existence.

despite the acclaim, evelyn couldn't escape the shadows that clung to her success. the yearning for normalcy, for a life unburdened by the weight of fame, echoed through the chambers of her thoughts. the solitude became both a sanctuary and a prison, a paradoxical retreat from the very success she had once coveted.

in the quiet moments between the chaos, evelyn grappled with the paradox of her aspirations. success had brought her to the forefront, but the cost was a retreat into isolation. as the world clamoured for more, she found herself yearning for less — a moving reminder that the path to success, while paved with awards, could also be a journey of unexpected sacrifices.

evelyn stared at her phone, the unanswered message to sam casting a shadow over her thoughts. she understood the demands of the continental tournament, the pressures and focus required, but a small text seemed insignificant amidst the chaos. still, she hesitated to bombard sam with messages, choosing patience over urgency.

the tournament had unfolded with the crescendo, each match bringing its own set of emotions and challenges. as the final whistle blew, signalling the end of the championship, evelyn couldn't shake the disappointment looming over the outcome. the girls had fought bravely, but the scoreboard displayed a 1-0 loss to japan.

she sent a congratulatory message to the team, acknowledging their efforts and expressing solidarity even in the face of defeat. however, the response from her friends revealed the noticeable disappointment that remained in the aftermath of the match. the expectations had been high, and falling short stung more than they cared to admit.

evelyn, though not physically present, felt the weight of their collective frustration through their exchanges. the friendship forged during her coaching days with some of these players ran deep, and their successes and setbacks resonated with her.