If you ever want to know how loud silence can be, disappear from the internet for three days.
By day four, it’s deafening.
I sit cross‑legged on my bed, Dante’s sanitized phone in hand, Mia perched beside me with her laptop open. We’re not supposed to be doom‑scrolling. Naturally, we’re doom‑scrolling.
“Okay,” she says. “You want the fun stuff or the existential crisis first?”
“Is there a ‘none of the above’ option?” I ask.
She refreshes a page. Winces. “Nope.”
She angles the screen.
#WhereIsLuna is trending in three languages.
Fan edits of my past interviews cut with eerie empty stages. Threads are dissecting my last few posts. Comments like:
– *She never went this quiet after a tour before. This is weird, right?*
– *What if the rumors are true and she’s literally being kept so
