Page 55 of New Year's Faye

“I need you to leave.”

I heard Sam stop behind me.

“Faye.”

“Please,” I whispered, barely holding myself together. “Just give me some time.”

I heard him moving around, before the door opened.

“I’m sorry I hid the truth,” he said softly. “But just know, I’ve never lied. Please, don’t hate me.”

I sighed, glancing at him over my shoulder. “I don’t hate you. I just need time to… adjust.”

He nodded. “Will you be at the concert tonight?”

I forced myself to nod, knowing he needed something, some sign that I wasn’t pulling away entirely, even if that’s exactly what I felt like doing. The thought of facing him tonight, of seeing him onstage, of knowing that every lyric, every look, every smile might be meant for me—it scared me. But I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, as if that one promise was enough for now. “Okay.”

With that, he slipped out the door, leaving me alone with the buzzing phone, the quiet hotel room, and the notebook still open in my hands. As the door clicked shut, the weight of it all settled over me—years of friendship, hidden feelings, a love I hadn’t known existed, all crashing down like a wave, threatening to pull me under.

My hands shook as I closed the notebook, feeling the walls I’d so carefully built beginning to crack, leaving me exposed, uncertain, vulnerable. And for the first time in my life, I had no plan, no strategy, no way to keep myself safe from the storm Sam had unleashed in me.

11

SAM

“Just a brown-eyed boy in love with a brown-eyed girl”

- Wild Ones, “The Girl”

Iclosed the door behind me, hating myself for leaving her alone in there, knowing exactly how her mind worked, how she’d twist and turn over every word she’d read, every lyric, every note. She’d be overthinking it, dissecting the years of feelings I’d tried to keep hidden, wondering how she could have missed it, doubting every moment. Part of me wanted to barge back in, to grab her and make her understand that none of this changed anything—except that now she knew.

But maybe that was what scared her most. And, if I were honest, it scared me too.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but I couldn’t shake the strange mix of emotions twisting in my chest. For years, I’d been careful, methodical, hiding how I felt, shoving it all into quiet moments and notebooks and songs I’d thought she’d never know were about her. It was safer that way; it was easier to keep her as my friend, my partner, and tell myself that was enough.

And yet… a part of me wasrelieved.Relieved she’d found the notebook, relieved that, finally, she’d seen it all. I’d always worried about what would happen if she knew, if she saw how deep my feelings ran, if she understood how much of my life—hell, how much ofme—was wrapped up in her. I’d thought it would be terrifying, like standing in front of a firing squad, but now, walking down the quiet hall of the arena, I realized I felt lighter.

She knew.

She’d seen all of it, every line and lyric and late-night confession I’d scribbled in the margins. She’d seen my heart laid bare, and even if it had shaken her, she hadn’t run.

She’d even said she’d be there tonight.

And that—that tiny glimmer of hope was enough to keep me moving, to keep me from turning back around and barging into that hotel room to try and explain what I could barely put into words. It was the hope that maybe, just maybe, we could move forward. Together. Or at least… that I could finally let myself hope.

My phone buzzed and I practically fumbled it as I pulled it from my pocket.

I made my way—shirtless I might add—back to the arena. The bus was quiet, the band out somewhere.

FayeMoyo

One question – when we were together, were you only ever imagining this? Us being in a relationship?

My fingers hovered over the screen as I considered how to respond.

SamDogg

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