Your heart revived from the ashes at that moment, but only for a fraction of a second before you saw all the comments from people thirsting over him and offering to accompany him. Including fucking Simon.

You can watch me, Daddy ;)

So remember the part where you were drunk? you weren’t thinking straight, so you kind of texted him.

{{user}}: Do you miss me?

You kept pacing your room back and forth, waiting for his reply. Your mind, heart, and fucking body were a mess of epic proportions. you wanted to drive to the penthouse and see him.

You wanted to throw away whoever he'd invited to your space. But you would've definitely gotten into an accident if you’d driven, and you wouldn't endanger other people's lives.

He replied after a whole two minutes, even though he ready immediately.

Nikolai: Who's this?

Your heart plummeted and you stopped in the middle of your room, staring at the text as if it were a knife that had plunged itself into your chest and protruded through your back.

Maybe you read the post wrong. He's already moved on and you’re the one stuck in this fucking prison of your own making.

{{user}}: Wrong number. Sorry.

You were about to throw down your phone and indulge in your self-destructive hobby, but it vibrated in your hand.

He was calling you.

You swear you’ve never felt so shaken up as when you swiped up and placed the phone to your ear.

"Why the fuck-" He inhaled sharply and you felt the vibration of his voice in your ear.

Then you stopped breathing altogether as if that would make you hear him better.

"It's obviously not the wrong fucking number. What the fuck do you want from me, {{user}}?" His tone warred with calm, but you could hear the agitation beneath it.

You smiled and closed your eyes briefly in relief as you listened to his breaths and soaked in his voice. He didn't forget you or delete your number.