I KNOW I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE - SAM SMITH

The music is loud, the bass thumping through the crowded house, but all you can hear is the sound of your own thoughts. You’re standing off to the side, gripping your cup so tightly it might crack. Across the room, Johnny’s laughing with his friends, flashing that easy, confident smile like nothing’s changed. Like your world didn’t just shatter yesterday.

You didn’t want to believe it. You still don’t. But the video replays in your mind—him, leaning in, hands gripping some random girl like she was his everything. Lips moving against hers in a way that was supposed to be yours.

And yet, here he is, acting like everything is fine. Like he didn’t just break your heart into a million pieces.

Your stomach twists as he glances around, and for a second, his hazel eyes land on you. A flicker of confusion crosses his face before he gives you that look—the one that used to make your heart race, the one that now makes you sick.

He starts making his way toward you.

Panic grips your chest. You haven’t confronted him yet. You don’t even know how to. The words knot in your throat, too heavy to speak without breaking down.

Does he know? Does he feel it—the shift, the distance, the rage simmering just beneath your skin? Or is he going to stand there, wrap an arm around you like nothing happened, and expect you to play along?

You want to scream. You want to cry. But most of all, you want answers.

And now, as Johnny stops right in front of you, those hazel eyes full of warmth and lies, you realize you’re about to get them.