Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

285: Worst. One. Ever.



Something didn't make sense. Discord was repeating convos. My words were places they SHOULD NOT BE. Abandoning the #MonstersGeneral, I clicked over to Zoe's server.

#FlopperGeneral

Lucy: I think my hair gel's moldy

BatSh*t: extra firm hold

Lucy: yeah, hair looks amazing, but it stinks like dog ass

HotMash: my cat yacked a hairball so big I puked too

Ciao: I coulda done without that

Hopeful: gotta go mow the lawn

Annie: there's no lawn. admit it, you live in your grandma's basement writing lesbian love stories and playing on discord

Hopeful: almost. you forgot the bunker

CurvyMoney: my neighbor has a bunker full of food

KingMaker: there's your next hostile take over

PillzGal: next?

ForNitzi: Pressure Washers 7 is the best take-over game

OuterStokes: it's like a cleansing for my brain

AstralCrick: washes you out so good

Scuttle: I need a pressure washer for the bird poop

DoUNotMatter: in your brain?

TitaniumNads: I mean, I've heard of shit for brains, but . . .

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No, no, no, no, no. I shook my head at the screen. It wasn't happening. There wasn't a conversation we'd had only a few days ago on #SpecialStreaksGeneral right there in #FlopperGeneral with the names changed.

Hopeful: gotta go mow the lawn

Annie: there's no lawn. admit it, you live in your grandma's basement writing lesbian love stories and playing on discord

That'd been HC who'd needed to mow the lawn.

And me responding.

I. WROTE. THAT.

"there's no lawn. admit it, you live in your grandma's basement writing lesbian love stories and playing on discord" WAS MY LINE.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. No, no, no, no.

It'd been building for days, and I couldn't hold it back. I bent forward, gasping, searching. Where was the air?

Not here, there was none. Nothing to breathe, nothing to see. No, I couldn't fall down in my living room. I felt for the kitchen drawer and the paper bag that was in it.

I put the bag to my face reminding myself to breathe out and push that damn bag open then breathe in to suck the air into my lungs. It was thready at first, barely a breath, but I managed it, eventually. Eyesight returned as I blinked away the black.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Don't think about the screen. Don't remember the words.

Don't consider

what

they

mean.

In. Out. In. Out.

Ping!

My heart raced again, but I kept the bag to my face, clicking open the DM from HC.

HC: Ayela, I saw something on another server that gave me pause. Let's talk? Link to screenshot

image

There it was again, words I'd typed just days ago, but with someone else's name next to them:

Arcane: it's hot as ass there, right?

That was me! That was my line. I'd written that just days ago. I was on the sofa, rocking, arms around my middle, eyes pinched shut. What was even happening? No, no, no, don't think about it.

HC! Oh dear god. HC. No, please no.

Ping!

New DM from B. I opened it.

B: Link to video The Tears I Keep

What

the

fuck?

It played a song I knew. The song HC'd sent me, but the date on the video was 2571, almost 300 years ago. Gods no. Please, oh dear god. I grabbed the paper bag again, desperate to keep breathing. No, oh no.

Bent over my lap, I managed to not fall unconscious.

Paper.

Bag.

Every.

Bad.

Memory.

All.

At.

Once.

I could do this. I could keep breathing.

Ping!

My eyes closed.

What? What now? Did I want to see? New DM preview. Worst. One. Ever.

CoralineAsIs: Sam?


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