Caden
The video keeps looping, even after I plug my phone in and let the screen go dim again.
She’s sitting cross-legged in a pile of pillow, hair twisted up with loose strands falling around her face. Her laugh isn’t filtered or posed—it slips out before she can stop it, soft and real. She’s wearing that oversized shirt again, the same one from her last few videos, and it slips down just enough to show the curve of her shoulder. Her posture is relaxed, like she feels safe there. As if she doesn’t realize the rest of the world can see her this way, or that I can too.
I’ve watched this clip so many times I don’t need the sound anymore. I know the rhythm of her voice, the way her eyes drop to the script in her lap before she says her next line. There’s a moment where Sutton throws a Twizz
