Bathroom kisses

Chapter Six: Bathroom kisses

The cell was loud in a way that scraped the nerves raw. Metal clanged. Voices rose and fell in sharp bursts. The air smelled of sweat and disinfectant, heavy and stale. Freya sat pressed into a corner, knees drawn tight to her chest, arms wrapped around her head as if she could make herself disappear.

“Look at her,” one of the women sneered. “Little celebrity liar.”

A shove knocked Freya sideways. Her shoulder hit the wall, pain shooting down her arm.

“I said I’m sorry,” Freya cried, her voice thin and shaking. “I didn’t…please…”

Another hand grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. The sting brought fresh tears, hot and blinding.

“What will your sorry change?” a woman snapped. “You think you’re special, huh? Pretty little thing…”

Freya sobbed, curling in tighter as blows landed. Nothing precise, nothing controlled, just cruelty born of boredom and anger. She tasted blood, felt her cheek throb, her ribs ache. Then a voice cut through the noise.

“That’s enough.”

The women stepped back reluctantly. An elderly woman stood a few steps away, her back straight despite her age. They muttered under their breath and drifted off.

The old woman walked over slowly and crouched beside Freya. “You don’t belong here,” she said quietly.

Freya lifted her head, eyes swollen, lashes clumped with tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

The woman sighed. “You do what they want.”

Freya shook her head weakly. “I can’t lie like that.”

“You already are lying,” the woman replied gently. “You’re lying to yourself if you think refusing will save you.”

Freya’s chest hitched.

“Courtney Savage doesn’t play nice,” the woman continued. “She locks people up and throws the keys away. I’ve seen it.”

Fear crawled up Freya’s spine.

“You want to rot in here?” the woman asked. “Or do you want to leave?”

Freya pressed her forehead to her knees, shaking.

“I’ll do it,” she whispered. “I’ll sign.”

She lifted her head and called out, her voice hoarse. “Officer. I’m ready.”

***

The lights in the studio were blinding. Freya knelt on the polished floor, hands clasped tightly in front of her, eyes red and hollow. Cameras pointed at her from every angle. The nation watched in real time.

Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“I lied,” she said, swallowing hard. “The Snapchat screenshots are fake.”

Her words tasted like ash.

“I did it because I wanted Xander Savage to notice me. I’ve been obsessed with him since fifth grade. I confused my feelings. I crossed a line.”

Her shoulders shook. She bowed her head. “I’m sorry to Xander. To his family and fans. To LEGACY. To everyone.”

She lowered herself further, palms flat on the floor.

“I apologize. Please forgive me.”

The feed cut. The room fell silent. Freya broke. She collapsed forward, sobbing openly, the humiliation crashing down all at once. A lawyer stepped forward, placing papers on the table.

“Sign here,” he said calmly. “And here.”

She wiped her face with trembling hands and signed, barely reading the words. Her signature felt like a surrender.

“You are never to photograph Xander Savage or any member of the Savage family,” another lawyer added. “Under any circumstances.”

Freya nodded, throat tight. She stood and walked out without looking back. The lawyers exchanged glances, then shook hands.

“Good work,” one said.

They went their separate ways.

***

The hall buzzed with excitement.

Fans packed the venue, banners waving, phones raised. The international meet and greet was in full swing, energy crackling through the air. Security moved in tight formation as Xander Savage smiled for cameras, signing jerseys, posing effortlessly.

Freya worked quietly at the edges, camera in hand, doing exactly what she was told. She focused on crowd shots, decorations, the atmosphere…anything but him.

An interviewer’s voice carried over the noise. “Xander, any comment on the Snapchat scandal?”

Xander smirked, tilting his head slightly. “I guess the award for my most obsessive fan goes to Freya Woods,” he said lightly. “Or… what’s her name again?”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

Freya’s fingers tightened around her camera. She swallowed hard and kept working.

The event ended at last. Exhausted, she headed toward the bathrooms, mind numb, steps heavy. She turned a corner and collided with someone.

Xander…stupid Savage! She yelled in her head.

They froze. His eyes flicked over her face, unreadable. “What are you doing in the VIP restroom?”

Freya’s heart slammed. “I—I made a mistake.”

She tried to step past him. He caught her wrist and pulled her closer. The world tilted. Before she could speak, he kissed her briefly…it was sudden, devastating.

“All these wouldn’t be happening if you agreed to be my girlfriend.” Xander said, still kissing her. “You know I like you. I told you how I felt about you…you turned around to mock me publicly.”

Freya kissed him back before she realized what she had done. She pulled away from him very fast.

“You kissed me back…” Xander chuckled, pulling her back. “Was it worth it, dummy?”

He sighed then he let her go. He walked away without a word. And Freya stood there, stunned, breathless, alone.

“Freya, I hate you for kissing that bastard!” She yelled at herself, hitting her cheeks.

***

“Here’s the balance.” Watz handed the elderly woman an envelope.

It was the elderly woman in the same cell with Freya. The woman that convinced Freya to agree to Courtney’s terms.

The woman collected the envelope, smiling. “It was nice doing business with you.”

“I believe you know the rules.” Watz said calmly. “Be careful out there and keep this to yourself. You know the consequences.”

The woman smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Just holla me if you need my services.”

She stepped down from the car walking across, to the train station.