crawling back to you.

Megan's mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water, words slipping through her fingers before they could form. The room felt like it had shrunk. The walls pressed in, the air thick with lingering tension. Daniela’s breath came slow and measured, but control was slipping through the cracks. She fixed Megan with an angry stare. Megan met her stare, her expression unreadable, but Daniela wasn’t fooled. She could see the way her fingers curled into her sleeves, the way her weight shifted, bracing for the storm.

“You faked being sick,” Daniela repeated, each word deliberate, razor-sharp.

Megan hesitated for a second too long. “I—”

“You lied. To me.” Daniela’s voice cut through the space between them like a blade, her hands clenched at her sides.

Lara inhaled sharply, stepping forward. “Dani, don’t—”

“No, I want to hear it from her,” Daniela snapped, her eyes never leaving Megan’s. “Why?”

“Because you were running yourself into the ground. Because you weren’t listening to anyone, you needed to take a break!”

Daniela let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “Oh, so you thought you’d play babysitter? Decide for me what I could handle?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Megan shot back, voice tight, but firm. 

“Un-fucking- believable,” Daniela laughed bitterly, shaking her head, before turning on her heel and storming out.

Megan looked at the others, wide-eyed.

“Follow her!” Manon urged, just as Sophia countered, “Give her some space.”

Megan hesitated only a second before slipping out the door, eyes darting down the hall. Daniela’s figure disappeared around the corner, her steps quick and angry. Megan jogged to catch up.

“Dani, wait,” she called, finally reaching her. “I just—I wanted to give you a break. You push yourself so hard—”

“I have to push myself.” Daniela spun on her, forcing Megan to stumble to a stop. The words snarled before she could stop them. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her skin burning with something volatile, something she couldn’t contain. “Do you think I want to be like this? Do you think I enjoy never feeling like I’m enough?” The admission caught her off guard, slipping past her defences before she even realized.

Megan’s eyes softened, and that only made it worse. Daniela didn’t want softness. Didn’t want pity. She didn’t want any of it.

“You’re not your father, Dani,” Megan said quietly, stepping closer.

Daniela flinched like she’d been struck.

And that was it. That was the final push. She lunged forward and pinned Megan to the wall, her arm across her chest. Megan let out a startled noise as her back hit the wall. 

“Shut the fuck up Megan,” Dani’s voice was low. Dangerous. The words tasted familiar, like something she’d said before. Her face was inches from Megan’s. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

But Megan wasn’t scared. Not of Dani, no never of Dani. She didn’t shrink away. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t back down. In fact, she welcomed the closeness between their bodies. Anyone else would have tensed, would have shrunk back under the weight of Dani’s fury. But Megan stood her ground, heart pounding for reasons she didn’t want to analyse. The warmth of Dani’s body so close, the tension vibrating between them—it should have unsettled her. Instead, she felt something else entirely. A funny feeling in her chest. Heat rose up her neck, a flush she distantly registered but refused to acknowledge.

“Maybe not the details,” Megan said, breath uneven, “but I know it’s something . Something you’re too scared to face, so you’re letting it consume you.”

“Shut up,” Daniela muttered, gaze dropping. “Shut up.”

“You can push me away all you want,” Megan’s chest rose and fell sharply, her eyes locked on Daniela’s, unwavering. “But I’m going to keep pushing back.”

With that she shoved Daniela off her and stalked off. 

Daniela stumbled back, disoriented, her eyes followed Megan’s retreating form through blurred tears. Her body ached. There was a slight pang of guilt in her chest, realisation and pain too, but she didn’t let that feeling manifest. Instead she kept her anger there, stuffed messily inside her ribcage. It was familiar, easier.

Swallowing hard, she shoved a hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

She still had Miles’ number. It hadn’t changed.

She pressed call.

✰✩✩✩✩✩

Miles had picked her up within minutes.

They hit up a couple of parties. Daniela got drunk. Then drunker.

They ended up back at his apartment. She drank some more.

And then she fucked him.

Old habits; they supposedly die hard.

✰✩✩✩✩✩

Daniela stirred, consciousness slipping in and out like the tide. The room smelled of cheap cologne and vodka, the air thick with the remnants of the night. Her head throbbed. The sheets tangled around her legs were soft, worn in a way that suggested comfort, but she felt anything but. Beside her she distantly recognised the arm draped loosely over her waist as Miles who was still asleep.

She blinked a few more times, trying to steady herself, but the haze of alcohol clung stubbornly to her.

Her phone was somewhere—she wasn’t sure where. She stumbled to her feet, her legs shook but she ignored it, looking for her shoes and phone, causing Miles to stir. 

“Dani?” Miles’ voice was thick with sleep, rough around the edges, “You leaving?” 

“Mhm,” Dani drunkenly mumbled as she wobbled trying to get her shoes on.

Miles exhaled, long and slow. “Figured.” He mumbled the words into his pillow before slipping back into sleep, unconcerned. Unbothered.

Daniela gave up her fight with her heels and opted for letting them dangle from her fingers. She finally spotted her phone on the nightstand. With sluggish steps, she made her way out of the bedroom.

The apartment was still. Quiet. Her footsteps felt too loud as she crossed the floor. In her drunken haze, she barely noticed when she stepped outside, the night swallowing her whole, until she realized—

She had no idea where she was.

A laugh bubbled up from her throat, too loud, the sound echoing back at her in the dark. She blinked. When had it gotten so dark? Where were the streetlights?

Her legs gave out then and she unceremoniously slid down against the rough brick of the building, heels clattering to the pavement beside her.

She needed a ride. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone. Despite everything—despite the anger, the shame, the mess she had made—her thumb gravitated towards one name in her contacts, and one name only.

✰✩✩✩✩✩

Megan paced the length of their hotel room, her teeth worrying at the skin of her thumb—a bad habit she couldn’t seem to break. The motion was rhythmic, almost absent-minded, but the knot of anxiety in her chest only tightened with each step.

“Megan it’s alright,” Lara said, voice calm but firm, trying to anchor Megan before she spiralled any further, “She’ll come back when she’s cooled off.”

“I shouldn’t have left her,” Megan muttered back, still pacing, “Should’ve at least found out where she’s spending the night.”

“Yeah well she shouldn’t have been such a dick,” Manon interjected with a dry chuckle, but the hurt still lingered beneath her words. But she also knew she’d forgive her roommate in a heartbeat. 

Sophia exhaled and stepped toward Megan, her hands gentle as she tried to steer her toward the bed. “Stop worrying. She’ll be fine, and she’ll be back by morning. This is her city, after all.”

Lara bit back a laugh. Telling Megan to stop worrying was like asking the tide to stop coming in. It was pointless. She knew Megan wouldn’t sleep—not until Daniela was standing in front of her, safe and accounted for.

And because of this known fact, she suggested the others leave to their respective rooms and get some rest. It had been a long day, and it was well past midnight now. Insisting that in doing so, Megan would be able to take a breather on her own and be able to wind down. She knew this was entirely false, of course. But she knew her best friend needed some time alone right now. 

Sophia hesitated, but Lara gave her a look—one that silently told her to trust her on this. If they stayed, Megan would just keep pacing, keep pulling herself deeper into the loop of guilt and what-ifs. She needed space, even if she wouldn’t ask for it.

Manon grumbled but followed, and Yoonchae obeyed instantly, recognising the gravity of the moment.

When the door finally clicked shut, Megan let out a slow breath.

Lara turned back, meeting her best friend’s eyes—wide, restless, shadowed with worry.

“You know she’s okay,” Lara said softly.

Megan swallowed, her fingers curling into her palm. “Yeah.”

Lara didn’t push, didn’t try to convince her of something she knew Megan wouldn’t believe. Instead, she reached for the light switch. “Try to sleep.”

She knew Megan wouldn’t.

And Megan knew that Lara knew.

But the gesture, the unspoken understanding between them, was enough.

A few hours later, Megan was biting at her thumb again, worrying the already raw skin until a thin trail of blood traced its way down her hand. She didn’t even acknowledge it, her mind too crowded. Her mind had always been like this. Thoughts overlapping each other messily, merging and crashing and overflowing in her head. Before, one little worry would often spiral into something that didn’t let her leave her bed for days.

She’d gotten much better at controlling this though. Once her mom had realised how bad it was, that the weight Megan carried wasn’t something she could just shake off, she had made her see a doctor, get some help. Turns out there was a history of mental illness in Megan’s family and Megan had pulled the short stick. With the right medications and plenty of therapy, Megan fared much better now. Had been for years. She had found things that helped when she was slipping, journaling and looking at the stars being a couple of them. Looking at Dani always helped too.

Megan still had her bad days, not often but sometimes—these dips that came out of nowhere, pulling her under. She had gotten better at hiding them, brushing them off as just being sick, because the last thing she wanted was for anyone to worry. She would never let it get as bad as it once was though, Megan dreaded ever being in that place again. It was why she was so vocal about mental health now with her platform since joining Katseye. She poured herself into advocacy, using her platform to push for open conversations, for honesty. The girls’ had an inkling that this was because of past experiences but never pushed which Megan appreciated. She would like to keep that part of herself in the past and focus more on creating a positive mental health experience for herself and for others now. 

It was something she had begun to prioritise, something important to her. It was why she had been so worried about Dani recently because Dani didn’t talk about her mental health, and didn't prioritise herself at all really. Never let anyone see past the sharp edges, the relentless drive, the impossible standards she held herself to. With the others, there was a balance. They talked, they shared their fears, their worries, their exhaustion, each time they felt low. And Megan welcomed them with open arms the same way she relied on them to catch her. But Dani? Dani was different. Dani was water slipping through her fingers no matter how tightly she tried to hold on. Dani was brave and bold, Megan knew she was strong but she still worried, cared. Still desperately wanted to open her up and dissect her inner workings and help her feel okay. Megan didn’t just care. She needed to understand her, to know her in a way no one else did. To pull apart the walls Dani had built, piece by piece, until she could finally breathe. Only then could Megan rest.

Her phone buzzed against the nightstand, pulling her from her thoughts. She snatched it up, her pulse spiking. A text from Dani. A single location drop. No explanation.

Megan didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her jacket, swiped the car keys off the table, and was out the door before she could think twice.

✰✩✩✩✩✩

Daniela squinted against the sudden glare of headlights, instinctively raising a hand to shield her eyes. The brightness sliced through the haze in her head, sending a wave of nausea rolling through her stomach. The low hum of an engine cut out, followed by the sharp slam of a car door before she heard something a little more blissful; Megan’s voice.

“Dani? What the fuck?” Megan hurried over and crouched in front of Daniela, fingers wrapping gently around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face so she could see her. Daniela blinked at her, disoriented, then let out a small, silly laugh.

Daniela smiled stupidly up at the ginger, “You came!”

Megan huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh, shaking her head. “Of course I came, you idiot.” Her voice was light, but her brows were drawn tight with concern as her gaze swept over Daniela. “Jesus, you’re freezing.”

“Mmm not,” Dani mumbled back. The wind bit at her skin, but the warmth of Megan’s hands was a steady contrast, grounding her.

Megan exhaled sharply. “Are you just drunk, or did you take anything?” Megan felt herself slipping into something familiar with the question. It had been a while since she’d dealt with an intoxicated Dani, but Megan had done this dance before so she knew what to do. 

Daniela swayed, her head tipping forward, and Megan caught it instantly. Hands firm, cradling her face, steadying her.

“Hey,” Megan’s voice softened, threading through the fog in Daniela’s mind. “Come on, focus. I need to know what I’m working with here.” Daniela didn’t answer for a moment. The night air whipped around them. Light rain pattering on the pavement underneath them.

“You always save me,” Daniela suddenly mumbled.

“Yeah, well… you save me back. My knight in shining armor, remember?” Megan attempted to joke but it fell flat. Daniela frowned, the corners of her lips dipping downward. Her eyes were glassy, but something deeper flickered in them—something tired. Something broken.

“I don’t deserve it,” she whispered. 

Megan’s heart clenched, sharp and aching.

She lifted a hand, brushing damp strands of hair from Daniela’s cheek, fingers lingering for a moment longer than they should have.

“You do,” Megan murmured, steady, certain. “You always have.”

Daniela shook her head stubbornly which seemed to only make things worse because suddenly she was lurching out of Megan’s grasp and throwing up onto the sidewalk. Megan quickly gathered her curls behind her head with one hand, using the other to gently pat her back. She murmured something soft, something meant to soothe, but Daniela was suddenly crying and she didn’t know why. 

Megan swallowed hard. She never could handle seeing Dani cry, it felt like a punch to her throat. “Okay,” she said once the worst of it had passed, her voice quiet but unwavering. “Let’s get you home.”

Daniela shook her head again, her breath hitching. “I don’t wanna go back there.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the way it cracked sent a shot of pain through Megan’s chest. Daniela thought Megan was talking about home home, where her parents were, where her dad was. For Daniela to not even want to go back having been away for so long it made Megan wonder, how bad was it? Dani’s dad seemed pleasant enough when they met him backstage, polite and charming even. But people could be great actors. And the truth was, Megan would never really know—because Daniela would never talk about it.

Megan gathered herself quickly forcing a reassuring smile. “Not there, Dan. Back to the hotel.”

Daniela blinked up at her, expression dazed, before nodding weakly.

Gently, Megan looped an arm around her, pulling her up onto unsteady legs and guiding her toward the car. Daniela leaned into her without hesitation, her weight pressing into Megan’s side, and Megan bore it without a second thought.

She got her into the passenger seat, fastening the seatbelt with careful hands. Then she shut the door, exhaled, and rounded the car to the driver’s side.

They were going home. Or at least, the closest thing to it; to the rest of the girls. 

✰✩✩✩✩✩

They staggered into the hotel room, the door clicking shut behind them. Daniela’s balance wavered, and in her unsteady state, she clipped the edge of the side table, sending a small vase tumbling to the floor. It clattered but didn’t break.

“Oops,” Daniela giggled, swaying where she stood.

Megan tightened her grip around her waist, steadying her before she could tip over completely.

The noise stirred Lara from sleep. She shifted beneath the covers, blinking against the soft slant of early morning light filtering through the curtains. Her gaze landed on them—first on Daniela, glassy-eyed and flushed, then on Megan, who looked exhausted but resolute, arms still wrapped around their drunken bandmate.

“She okay?” Lara’s voice was thick with sleep.

“Yeah, I got her,” Megan assured, her voice low, careful. “Go back to bed.”

Lara hesitated, studying Megan a moment longer. “You okay?”

Megan exhaled, a quiet, tired laugh escaping her lips. “Ask me in the morning.”

Lara gave a knowing smile, then slid her noise-cancelling headphones back over her ears and turned over, disappearing beneath the blankets.

Megan watched her for a second before turning her attention back to Daniela, whose head had now lolled against her shoulder, warm and heavy with sleep. She sighed, adjusting her grip.

“Alright, trouble,” she murmured. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Once Dani was tucked in, Megan got up to leave, figuring she’d bunk in Manon’s room with the empty bed there. Little did she know, Sophia was in that room; her body curved around Manon’s. 

Daniela reached out to stop Megan, her fingers loosely grasping her wrist. 

“Stay,” it was a whispered demand but a demand nonetheless. Megan never could deny Dani anyway. She shuffled under the covers. She sat up slightly, watching as Daniela’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks, waiting for her to drift off. 

Then, barely above a breath—

“Do you hate me?”

The words pulled something deep in Megan’s chest.

“I could never hate you,” she answered, immediate, instinctual.

Daniela’s brow knit, her expression twisting, even with her eyes shut. “I hurt you.”

“You didn’t—”

“I did,” Dani cut in. “Hurt Manon too... I only hurt things.”

Megan swallowed, fingers curling into the sheets. “You don’t— You’re drunk, Dani. You need to rest, okay? Just sleep.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then, soft, broken—

“I’m sorry.”

Megan closed her eyes, exhaling through the unfathomable ache in her chest.

“I know.” But Dani was already asleep, her head falling to the side as her breathing evened out and the grip she previously had on Megan’s wrist fell slack. Megan felt the loss of contact immediately, like a sharp sting. 

A strand of hair clung to Daniela’s cheek. Without thinking, Megan reached out, brushing it away—soft, careful. She pretended not to notice the way Dani leaned into her touch, just slightly, eyes still shut. And Megan is pretty scared of fucking this up, of pushing too hard again and making everything so much worse, but a few tentative strokes through her hair seem to comfort Dani more than they hurt her, so Megan begun combing her fingers through dyed blonde, feeling the hair bend and untangle in her fingers. 

Megan exhaled, soft and quiet, and wished they could stay like this forever. Just the two of them in the stillness of a warm room, untouched by expectations, unburdened by worries or difficult fathers. Just Daniela, safe in her arms. But it’s not enough. Megan didn’t know why, but she needed to feel closer to the girl. She wanted to peel back—no, rip apart her layers— and be elbows deep in all things Dani. She wanted Dani to choose her to be the one she let in. She wanted Dani to choose her to be the one to see every dark corner of her brain, of her heart. She wanted to be closer. She wanted to bend down, intertwine her limbs with the girl next to her. She wanted to stay awake and memorise her outline and then memorise every inch of her insides too. She wanted to hold her the way she deserved to be held.

She wanted to trace the curve of her jaw, to press her lips to her temple, her cheek, her mouth—

She smoothed a stray curl from Daniela’s forehead, her thoughts catching up to her— oh.

There was that funny feeling again.

That quiet, aching pull in her chest, the one she had ignored for so long. It suddenly felt undeniable. Clear as day. 

Megan was in love with Dani.

Maybe she had been all along. This entire time it was Dani, and she was only now realising it.

Every lingering touch, every glance that lasted a second too long. The way her thoughts drifted to Dani when she lay awake at night, the restless need to hear her voice, to know she was okay. Goosebumps when their skin brushed. That unbearable lightness in her chest when Daniela laughed, like something inside her was lifting, untethered.

The way she memorized Dani without meaning to—the cadence of her voice, the way she danced when she thought no one was watching, the way her lips quirked before she smiled. Her goddamn dimple. How Megan sought Dani out in every crowded room, how she was only ever at ease when she was by her side, every anxious thought, every dark feeling somehow evaporating. Megan had thought it would be hard to leave home when she started at Dream academy, and it was at first, but she quickly felt safe, happy , and that was because Daniela was there. Dani had become home without Megan even realizing it.

She hadn’t looked at anyone else since meeting her. She had told herself it was their schedule, the chaos of their lives. But that wasn’t true, was it? It had always been Daniela. It had only ever been Daniela.

And that funny feeling—the one she didn’t seem to get around the other girls or anyone else. The one she’d convinced herself was nothing, just nerves, just adrenaline, just close friendship—she understood it now.

It was love. She was in love with Daniela.

What the fuck was she going to do?