Flashback…

“Seriously?” Zoe’s voice cut through my misery, sharp and annoyed, like she couldn’t believe I was still like this. She stood by the door with her arms folded, her chin tilted high, eyes burning into me. “You’re really going to keep crying over him? Over Tyler?”

I wanted to hide. I was curled up on the bed, my knees pulled tight, my face buried in a pillow that was already soaked with tears. My chest hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe properly, like there was something heavy pressing on it. No matter how hard I tried, the sobs kept choking me, making my throat raw.

“You don’t understand…” I sniffled, my voice breaking as I turned my face away. “I loved him.”

“Loved?” Zoe’s laugh wasn’t kind, it was sharp, cutting and annoying. She stormed over and yanked the pillow away, tossing it across the room. “Oh, please. Don’t humiliate yourself like this, Chloe. You’re Chloe Rodriguez, daughter of Alejandro Rodriguez. Venice bows when Dad walks through a room. And you’re here… crying over some boy?”

Her words stung, even though part of me knew she was right. Still, I couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down.

Zoe sat on the edge of my bed, her legs crossed, her lipstick-perfect smile curling slyly. She was everything I wasn’t, loud, daring, never afraid. She lived like the world belonged to her. And somehow, she made me feel small without even trying.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” she said, tapping my leg like she was my teacher. “You’re going to get up, wear that black dress I bought you last week, you know, the one you swore you’d never wear because it’s too short, and you’re going to come out with me. We’ll drink, we’ll dance, and we’ll remind this city who we are. The Rodriguez twins don’t cry. Boys cry over us.”

“I don’t… I don’t feel like partying,” I whispered, my throat dry.

Her hand shot out, gripping my wrist so tight it made me wince. “Too bad. I’m not letting my twin rot in bed like some abandoned puppy. You’re coming. End of story.”

I wanted to tell her no. I wanted to scream. But I was too tired, too drained, too broken. And maybe, just maybe, she was right. Maybe drowning in lights and noise would hurt less than drowning in silence and heartbreak.

Hours later, I was standing under strobing lights that blurred everything. The bass of the music shook the ground under my feet, the air thick with perfume, smoke, sweat, and something else I couldn’t place.

Zoe was alive here. She tossed her hair back, laughed too loud, clinked her glass with strangers, and danced like she owned the club. People looked at her the way they always did, with awe, like she was fire they couldn’t touch.

Me? I was just her shadow. The twin who trailed behind, smiling weakly, nodding when spoken to. She leaned close to me once, whispering against the pounding music, “See? Everyone’s watching us. Everyone wants us. Forget Tyler. You’re Rodriguez blood. Act like it.”

I tried. I really did. Drink after drink burned down my throat until my head felt heavy, until my lips stretched into a laugh I didn’t mean, until my feet stumbled across the dance floor. My chest felt lighter but not in a good way, it was more like floating too far from reality.

At some point, someone’s hand slipped around my waist. I didn’t push it away. I didn’t even really care. Zoe noticed, of course she did. She only smirked, raising her glass and winking at me like this was her victory.

The music grew louder, or maybe my head was just spinning harder. My body didn’t feel like mine anymore. I remember someone leaning down, their lips brushing my ear, warm breath against my skin, whispering words I couldn’t catch. I laughed, though I didn’t know why.

Then…black.

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was out. I groaned, dragging the covers over my face, but it didn’t stop the pounding in my skull. My whole body ached like I’d been thrown down a flight of stairs. My mouth was dry, my throat scratchy, and the room didn’t even look like mine.

Panic. My hands shook as I sat up too quickly. Where was I? What happened?

Flashes hit me in pieces, the dancing, the drinks, the stranger’s hand, Zoe’s smirk across the room. But after that… nothing. Like someone had torn whole pages out of my memory and burned them.

I looked down at myself, at the wrinkled dress, at the faint smell of cologne that wasn’t mine clinging to my skin. My stomach dropped. My heart slammed against my chest.

I didn’t remember. I didn’t know.

But deep inside me, I felt it, cold, sharp, terrifying.

That night had changed something. Something I couldn’t name, couldn’t explain. But I knew with a sick kind of certainty that I would never be the same girl who had cried over Tyler on her bed.

Something had been broken.

Something had been stolen.

And I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get it back.