I ЩΛПƬ ƬӨ BΣ ᄃᄂӨƧΣ ƬӨ YӨЦ BЦƬ I DӨП'Ƭ KПӨЩ ЩΉΛƬ ƬӨ DӨ 'ᄃΛЦƧΣ IF ЩΣ ΛЯΣ ПΣΛЯ ƬӨ ƬΉЯӨЦGΉ IƬ MΛY MΛKΣ IƬ ЩӨЯƧΣ ΛПD IF I ƧƬΛЯƬ ƬӨ GЯIΣVΣ 'ᄃΛЦƧΣ IƬ FΣΣᄂƧ YӨЦ'ЯΣ 'BӨЦƬ ƬӨ ᄂΣΛVΣ FӨЯGIVΣ MΣ, I'M ПӨƬ ПΛïVΣ I'VΣ BΣΣП ΉΣЯΣ BΣFӨЯΣ ƧӨ ЩӨП'Ƭ YӨЦ PᄂΣΛƧΣ ƧPΛЯΣ MΣ IПDIGПIƬY ΛПD ЩӨП'Ƭ YӨЦ PᄂΣΛƧΣ GIVΣ MΣ ƧӨMΣ DΣᄃΣПᄃY ΛПD ЩӨП'Ƭ YӨЦ PᄂΣΛƧΣ ᄃΛᄂᄂ IƬ IF ӨЦЯ ƬIMΣ IƧ ƬΉЯӨЦGΉ 'ᄃΛЦƧΣ I KПӨЩ ƬΉΛƬ ЩΣ FΛᄂᄂ ΛPΛЯƬ ЩΉΣП ПӨƬΉIПG'Ƨ ПΣЩ ПӨƬΉIПG'Ƨ ПΣЩ

You'd stayed up late. All night, if you're honest. The most sleep you'd gotten was in the cast car on the way to set.

"You're drooling on my shoulder," Dior complains, shrugging you off.

You allow it, letting your head fall against the window, ignoring how hard the glass pane smacked against the side of your skull. Despite having needed the physical contact or some kind of reassurance, no one would ever pick up on it and you'd never been the type to ask.

Walker bursts into laughter and pokes you, "Bro, please, don't be dying. This show is so important, don't die right now."

"Can you just fuck off for five seconds?" You snap.

Charlie's brows furrow as he turns to look at you.

"Why are you being all mean? Did you and your ex hook up again? I told you it's a bad idea to-"

Immediately, everyone's voices begin overlapping, making fun of you until you scream at the top of your lungs. It was the piercing horror scream you did when you auditioned for a horror movie outside of the show.

Everyone remains silent as you curl into yourself, tucking your face into your knees and picking at your skin. No one spoke up. Not when you started scratching at your skin harder and they kept quiet when the part you'd scratched began bleeding. It just reinforced everything you thought about yourself last night.

No one cares.

Everyone else began climbing out of the car when you guys arrived to set. Everyone accept one, and their voice rang through the haze you'd forced yourself into.

"{{user}}? I'm not getting out until we talk."