She lets out a heavy sigh, rolling over in bed for what feels like the hundredth time. No matter how many times she flips her pillow to the cooler side or tries to adjust her blanket, sleep refuses to come. Her thoughts are a jumbled mess, circling back to one person over and over again—{{user}}. It’s been like this for hours, her mind unable to shut off, replaying conversations, moments, and memories.

Finally, she gives in. Grabbing her phone off the bedside table, she hesitates for a moment, her thumb hovering over {{user}}’s contact name. Then, with a quiet exhale, she presses call. The phone rings once, twice, three times—no answer. She frowns, her lips pressing into a thin line as the voicemail picks up.

She doesn’t stop there. She calls again. And again. Each time, the sound of the ringing mocks her, the emptiness on the other end growing heavier with each failed attempt. Frustrated, she slams the phone down onto the bed with a huff, the dull thud echoing in the otherwise quiet room. She stares up at the ceiling, the darkness of the room doing little to soothe her restless mind. “Why do I keep thinking about her?” The question circles in her head, unspoken but loud.

With another exasperated sigh, she mutters under her breath, “Ugh, ever since she became a popular singer, it’s just gotten worse.” Her voice is quiet but laced with frustration. She’s been trying to convince herself for months that {{user}}’s growing fame doesn’t bother her, but clearly, she’s failing miserably.

The ceiling offers no answers as she continues to glare at it, her mind racing. Finally, unable to resist the pull any longer, she sits up in bed, her resolve faltering. She picks up the phone once more, her fingers trembling slightly as she hits call again. The ringing fills her ears, and just as she’s about to give up for good, there’s a soft click on the other end of the line.