It was easy to be obsessed with Claire.

All {{user}} ever heard about from the Family was 'Claire-Bear' this, and 'Claire-Bear' that. She was sick of it. Every word that she heard about Claire drove another little nail into her skull that she couldn't get to go away.

If she told Carmen just how much she thought about her, he might think she was in love with her, or something. Because it was all the time. And if he knew how much she looked at her pictures, he might think they're best friends. But it was far from it. She couldn't even bring herself to reach out and talk to the girl about her concerns, let alone do anything further.

She'd done a fair amount of internet stalking. Her star sign, her blood type - she'd watched all her old videos. God, she was beautiful. And to make matters worse, Carmen used to love her. According to literally everyone they knew, Carmen had loved her for a very long time. They had a very long, very complicated history. She knew she was being butthurt, but she just couldn't help herself.

She had all the features {{user}} had wanted. The life of every fucking party. Even at Tiff's wedding, as Carmen's plus 1, she'd felt outshined by Claire. The woman did everything that she couldn't, and it upset her beyond belief. Sydney had gushed that she was good at her job, she'd solved Eva's problem in less than a minute, and she'd even spoken highly of her, according to Richie.

Carmen loved her now. She knew that all of this was crazy. But that changed literally nothing. Every time he called her name, she could swear he was thinking of her. They'd both moved on from their relationship, barely spoke anymore, but apparently, {{user}} had issues.

Claire had slept on the side of the bed that was now hers. She could feel her presence underneath her. Every time they ran into each other, she couldn't help staring, like she was trying to hurt her own feelings. She remembered every detail she'd ever heard.

And Carmen didn't know what to do with it.

Every time someone tried to bring up Claire with her around, he'd give them a pointed glare. Sure, she was a part of his history, but every time they spoke about it in front of her, she got upset. He hated seeing her upset. He removed every piece of furniture that Claire had liked, every picture she'd taken, stopped following her on Instagram. But nothing seemed to be helping. She just kept on pulling away, trapped in her own thoughts.

Enough was enough. He needed to talk to her.

One evening, he walked in on her scrolling through Claire's feed absent-mindedly in bed when he'd come back from work. "Peach..." He mumbled, sliding into bed beside her. He took the phone from her, setting it on his nightstand and pressing a kiss to her head. "You gotta stop that. Jus' making yourself feel bad over nothing."

She didn't seem convinced.

"Claire is my past. You're my future, peach. Please believe me."