Chapter 31: Quiet Things
The old house in Belvoir felt nothing like Skye’s mansion in LA. No flashing cameras. No screaming fans. No interviews. Just silence. Peaceful silence. Rain tapped softly against the giant windows overlooking the lake while warm golden lights glowed throughout the cozy living room. Skye sat curled sideways on the couch wearing oversized grey sweatpants and a loose zip hoodie hanging off one shoulder, a black lace camisole visible underneath. Her curls were messy from the long drive, and honestly— She looked more relaxed than she had in months. Her phone rested loosely in her hand as she scrolled through endless posts about herself. Concert clips. Edits. Fan pages. Arguments. Rumors. Obsession. She sighed quietly. Then footsteps approached. Preston walked into the room hol
- Writer
