His Beautiful Rival

7.CHASING FEELINGS

I walked briskly along the quiet streets of Westwood, my thoughts swirling in a storm of frustration and confusion. The encounter with Blaze had left me feeling unsettled; the tension between us felt thicker than the air around me. I replayed our argument over and over in my mind—the sharp words, the hostile glances—and sighed. Why did he have to make everything so difficult?

The day had started with so much promise, yet it had spiraled into chaos, leaving me yearning for a way to vent my feelings. I even fantasized about painting Blaze red in my imagination, but with every breath, my anger slowly faded, replaced by a heavy disappointment in myself. The sun threw its warm orange rays across the horizon, turning the gloomy evening bright yet deceptively cheerful.

As I turned onto a narrow, tree-lined street, I felt a sudden prickling at the back of my neck, an unsettling sensation that told me someone was watching me. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted a figure in black, a few paces behind me, his presence a dark cloud looming in my mind. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickened my pace, desperate to shake off the unease that gripped me.

With each step, I felt the weight of my senses sharpening, alerting me to the shadow following me. Slowly, I looked up at the sky, seeking solace in its vastness, but when I turned back, I saw him—a man cloaked in a black hoodie, standing just behind me, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. My heart raced as I tried to make sense of the situation. Why was he following me? Was I overreacting, or was there something sinister lurking beneath the surface?

He maintained his distance but matched my speed, his presence unsettlingly persistent. I didn’t want to lead this stranger to my home. My mind raced, searching for a safe place to collect my thoughts, a sanctuary where I could regroup. The only place that came to mind was the cemetery where my twin sister, Maeve, rested. It was a place of peace for me, a quiet sanctuary where I could speak my heart without fear of judgment or the harshness of reality.

Without fully considering my next steps, my feet moved of their own accord, guiding me toward the cemetery gates. The figure in black still followed, but I refused to let fear paralyze me. I entered the cemetery, my footsteps echoing on the stone pathway. I wove through the rows of tombstones, the cool air wrapping around me like a shroud as I made my way to Maeve’s grave.

Kneeling down, I let out a shaky breath. "Maeve, it’s been a long day," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the heavy silence. The wind rustled the surrounding leaves, almost as if my sister were listening, responding to my call.

"I had another argument with Blaze today," I continued, tracing the carved letters of Maeve's name on the headstone. "He’s so infuriating. Always trying to one-up me, always making everything a competition. Sometimes I wish you were here instead of me. You were always better at handling people." The tears that had threatened to spill all day began to sting at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

"I miss you so much, Maeve. I wish I could talk to you and get your advice. You always knew what to do." The ache in my chest grew heavier, memories of our shared laughter and whispered secrets flooding my mind. I glanced around, half expecting to see the man in black lurking nearby, but the cemetery remained empty and silent, a safe haven in my chaotic world.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my racing heart. "Blaze doesn’t understand what it’s like to lose someone. He doesn’t know how hard it is to keep going, to stay strong when everything inside you is falling apart." My voice trembled, and I pressed my fingers against the cool stone, grounding myself in the moment.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over me as I remembered the day Maeve died. The accident had shattered my world, leaving me to pick up the pieces alone. I had tried to be strong, to fill the void she left behind, but some days, the burden felt too heavy to bear.

I looked up at the sky, the stars beginning to twinkle as twilight descended, casting a soft glow over the cemetery. "I know I have to keep going, for both of us. But it’s hard, Maeve. It’s so hard." The weight of my emotions pressed down on me, threatening to engulf me as I knelt there, pouring my heart out to the wind.

I sat in silence for a while, the presence of the man in black seemingly fading into the background, replaced by the comforting familiarity of the cemetery. I found myself wishing I could stay there forever, in this quiet sanctuary where the outside world couldn’t reach me. But I knew I couldn’t hide forever; I had to face Blaze and the challenges that lay ahead.

With a heavy heart, I stood up and brushed the dirt from my knees, placing a gentle kiss on Maeve’s headstone. "I’ll come back soon," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "I promise."

As I walked away from the grave, I felt a renewed sense of resolve. Maeve’s memory would give me the strength to face whatever came my way. I exited the cemetery, casting one last glance over my shoulder. The man in black was nowhere to be seen, but the encounter had left me wary, my heart still pounding in my chest.

The streets were now dark and quiet as I continued my journey home. The argument with Blaze still lingered in my mind, but so did the comforting presence of my sister’s memory. I squared my shoulders, determined to navigate the challenges ahead with the same grace and strength Maeve had always embodied.

When I finally reached my house, I paused at the door, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. I knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with Maeve’s spirit guiding me, I felt ready to face whatever came next.

As I opened the door quietly, hoping to slip inside without drawing attention, the familiar warmth of home offered no comfort tonight. The hallway was dimly lit, the silence almost oppressive as I carefully closed the door behind me. My footsteps felt heavy, laden with the weight of the day's events.

Entering the living room, a sudden slap echoed through the room, snapping my head to the side. The sting of my father’s hand across my face was sharp and immediate, leaving me momentarily stunned. My vision blurred as I fought back tears, the shock rendering me speechless. My breath came in shaky gasps as I dared to look at my father, disappointment etched on his face.

"How dare you get into detention!" he thundered, his voice laced with fury. "Do you know how embarrassing this is for our family? I expect better from you, Seraphina. I demand perfection!"

My heart raced, the sting on my cheek burning as I tried to steady myself. His eyes were filled with anger, his face contorted in rage. I could feel tears welling up, but I forced them back, knowing that showing weakness would only make things worse.

"I'm sorry, Father," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling. "It won’t happen again." I fisted my trembling fingers into a tight ball, willing myself to remain composed.

His glare remained unwavering, an unyielding force that crushed my spirit. "You have responsibilities, Seraphina. You are expected to be an elegant, perfect lady. This behavior is unacceptable."

I could feel my mother standing a few steps behind my father, her expression indifferent as if the entire scene was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. She didn’t utter a word; her silence was a stark contrast to my father’s fury.

My hands trembled at my sides, anxiety mounting with each passing second. I felt trapped, suffocated by expectations and demands that seemed impossible to meet. My father’s tirade continued, but his words became a blur as my mind spiraled into panic and despair.

Eventually, his anger subsided, and he turned away with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Go to your room. I don’t want to see your face until you’ve fixed this mess."

My mother followed him without a glance in my direction, their footsteps echoing down the hallway as they retreated to their own space. The moment they were out of sight, my composure crumbled. I sank to the ground, my legs no longer able to support me, feeling the vulnerability chilling into my bones.

Hot tears streamed down my face, my sobs breaking the oppressive silence. I clutched my chest, the pain of my father’s words cutting deeper than the slap. My body shook with each hiccuping cry, the anguish I had held back finally spilling over.

"I hate this life," I whispered between sobs, my lips trembling violently as I tried to breathe but found it nearly impossible. "I hate it so much."

My cries grew louder, echoing off the walls of the empty room. I felt utterly alone, my father's harsh demands and my mother’s indifference crushing my spirit. The pressure to be perfect, to embody the elegant lady my father demanded, was a weight I could no longer bear.

I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth as I sought comfort in the only way I knew how. But there was none to be found. The house that was supposed to be my home felt like a prison, the expectations and demands like chains binding me to a life I didn’t choose.

I longed for Maeve, for the sister who had always understood me, who had shared my pain and my dreams. But she was gone, and I was