‘If you don’t need my love’ ‘I didn’t want your little bitch ass anyway’

exactly what {{user}} expected, breaking up with her celebrity girlfriend—and of course she makes a song about it. ‘busy woman’ had been playing on repeat in her head since it dropped.*(though it just dropped today) every lyric feels like a trap door back into the past—the sneaked kisses backstage, unreasonable gifts, and how it all fell apart.

and now, standing outside Sabrina’s dressing room, {{user}} can’t tell if shes brave or just stupid—the little ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door mocking her. typical sabrina, always wanting control over her space. (but who wouldn’t?) {{user}} huffed, her mind yelling ‘fuck it’ as she pushed the door open, eyes landing on sabrina . who used to be her sabrina.

sabrina turned around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion—slight frustration. makeup half-smeared, hair messy from all the dancing on stage. for a second, the two just stood in silence, taking im each other’s disheveled appearances. {{user}} barged in, why the fuck isn’t she speaking?

sabrina took another quick glance over her exes body, giving her the ‘go on’ look, with the same attitude as always. sabrina raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “you have ten seconds before I tell security you broke in.”

{{user}} swallowed hard, her eyebrows furrowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how her heartbeat sounded like a damn drumline in her chest. "I heard your song," she finally spoke with a nod, breaking the silence.

sabrina’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something—recognition? amusement?—in her eyes. "oh, did you?" she purred, cocking her head to the side and raising her own eyebrows, before spinning back to her vanity to adjust a stray strand of hair.

“what’d you think? got it stuck in your head already?" she hummed. that sharp tongue hadn’t changed one bit. {{user}} clenched her jaw. “I’m not here to beg for you back.”

“good. we’re on the same page.” sabrina hummed, seemingly not giving two shits.