Off-key Lovers

Scarlett Bianci

I should've known better than to check my phone.

But I was already in bed, buried under three blankets, scrolling through the endless parade of influencers and food pics for 3 hours.

When-bam- his stupid face. Nash. Of course.

It's like the universe knew exactly how to push my buttons.

There he was, drenched in sweat, holding a guitar and staring very seductively from the distance.

Without knowing, I already had started at it for 3 minutes. Stop looking at his post, Scarlett.

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I might get whiplash.

What was he even doing these days? Still pretending to be some big shot rockstar, probably posting another "I'm so deep" picture with his guitar.

Ugh.

Yeah, well, I didn't have time for this. I had songs to record, a career to focus on, and a bunch of other stuff that didn't include him.

So, I ignored the familiar ache in my chest and shoved the phone down aggressively like a grown woman who doesn't care about her ex.

And I definitely don't care about his ugly, hideous troll smile. Was that too harsh? Couldn't care less.

Dragging myself out of bed, I instantly missed the feeling of my soft sheets. It was already 9:00 AM.

I had to get to the studio by 9:30 AM, or my bestfriend, Ophelia who also happened to be my recording manager, would beat my ass for being late.

I made my way to the bathroom, stripping off my clothes as I stepped under the hot stream of water. Enjoying the feeling of hot water running over my skin.

Unfortunately, not enough time to enjoy it.

Because, shocker- I was running late. Again.

After rushing through my routine, I walked into my closet.

And honestly? Ego boost. Who knew I had so many pretty, sexy, expensive clothes?

My fingers trailed over the fabric, brushing against every piece I walked past.

Maybe I should wear a dress today.

My gaze landed on a specific one. A gift from a certain someone. His gift.

Ugh. Why haven't I thrown this out already?

Rolling my eyes, I pushed the thought aside. Maybe later. I was practically running late. If I threw this dress into a crowd at my concert, someone would probably sell it for at least $200 and make money.

Wouldn't that be charitable of me?

Or i'll make a person happy cause who wouldn't want a dress that was worn by me?

What a kind soul I am.

Focus, Scarlett. You're literally running late.

I yanked a sparkly purple dress off the hanger, slipping it on and letting the fabric fall into place.

After a too-fast blow-dry, a rushed styling, and-of course-makeup. I was out the door.

Unfortunately, that took 30 minutes.

By the time I got into my car, it was 9:32 AM. The drive to the studio was 20 minutes.

Ophelia wouldn't mind if I was 22 minutes late... right?