Everyone thinks they know what silence sounds like in my head. They think it’s a pop song. A catchy chorus about confidence or heartbreak. But the real silence is louder. It’s the sound of a crowd cheering for a version of me that stops existing the moment the stage lights die.
But whose dream?
I hear him stir in the next room. The soft rustle of sheets. A gentle snore that isn’t mine. For a moment, the weight in my chest lifts. I think of his hand on the small of my back during the after-party, a silent anchor. He doesn’t love the crown; he loves the ache underneath it. angie faith pov
You are Angie Faith, I whisper to the dripping girl in the mirror. You are the dream. Everyone thinks they know what silence sounds like
In the darkness of the bedroom, I slide back under the covers. The mattress dips. He rolls over instinctively, his arm finding my waist, pulling the static of the world away. But the real silence is louder
And that Angie is enough.