Lahat ng Kabanata ng Sorry, Your Fangirl Logged Off: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Rain started falling as I stepped out of the club in Riverton.My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.Someone had dropped a video in the class group chat.They'd edited the clip of me ripping up letter number one hundred with fake sobbing sounds and a caption:[Damien, go get her. Your biggest fan just rage-quit.]Then came a flood of laughing emojis.I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then left the group chat.I'd barely shoved my phone back into my bag when a black Cullinan rolled up to the curb.The rear window slid down.Damien frowned when he saw me standing in the rain. "Get in."He'd done this before.Senior year, when people cornered me in the stairwell and made fun of me, he'd stood outside the crowd and said, "Move."Back then, I thought it meant I was special to him.Now I knew better.He'd just gotten used to owning my pathetic devotion.Caleb Twain, the chauffeur, got out with an umbrella and opened the door."Ms. Martinez, Mr. Byford wants you in the car."

The dressing-room door slammed behind us.Shannon followed, eyes red, voice shaky. "Damien, I swear I didn't know those letters would show up. I don't know why Mia would do this to me..."Damien let go of me and turned to steady her.His face stayed calm.His eyes didn't.Once Shannon settled down, he looked at me."Apologize."I stared at him. "What?"Damien's face hardened."Shannon was the star tonight. You pulled that stunt during her performance and humiliated her in front of everyone."You owe her an apology."My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe."Those letters were mine. I wrote them to you. And you kept them around so everyone could laugh at me."Damien frowned."I kept them because I couldn't be bothered to throw them out."They turned it into a joke because they didn't know when to stop."But you stopped playing and left Shannon stranded onstage. That part was on you."He said it like it was obvious.Like my pain, my humiliation, and ten years

Mia's POVIt was almost dawn when I reached Southport.The station exit was nearly empty.I dragged my suitcase outside, cold wind burning my eyes.The second I turned my phone back on, missed calls flooded the screen.Then a text popped up.[Mia, answer your phone.]Two minutes later:[Where are you?]Eventually, his messages stopped sounding like orders.[Stop this. I'll come get you.]I stared at the message for a long time.Then I blocked his number.The cab driver asked where I was headed.I gave him the address.A recovery center in Southport.My brother, Ethan Martinez, had been there for the past two years.After our family fell apart, he'd protected me from a lot.And hidden just as much.By the time the cab pulled up, dawn was breaking.The second I stepped out, I saw someone waiting by the entrance.Ethan stood there in a dark coat.He'd lost a lot of weight, but he still stood straight.The second he saw me, he didn't ask a thing.He just opened his

Damien didn't leave.He rented a place near the recovery center.Every morning at seven, breakfast showed up at the door.An onion-free omelet. Hot chocolate. Lemon candy.Then came an out-of-print piano score I'd once mentioned wanting.I never accepted any of it.After days of watching the gifts pile up, Ethan finally had the staff send everything back.Damien didn't make a scene.He just stood under a tree across from the recovery center every day.Even in the rain, he didn't use an umbrella.One day, I looked out the window.His suit was soaked through.He looked like he had that night outside the club, when he'd tilted the umbrella toward me.But this time, I didn't go downstairs.Ethan stood behind me."Feel bad for him?"I shook my head."I just think he finally knows what it feels like to be cold."Ethan stayed quiet.After a while, he said, "Don't let his pain become yours."I closed the curtains."I won't."Two weeks later, Damien finally cracked.The r

A year later, I held my first solo recital abroad.My final piece was called Echoes of Yesterday.Every seat was filled.When the lights dimmed, Damien never crossed my mind.I only thought about myself.The girl who'd secretly written ninety-nine letters.How foolish she'd been.How sincere.How hard she'd loved.And how she'd finally walked away from all that pain.When I finished, the applause wouldn't stop.I stood to bow.Then I saw someone familiar in the back row.Damien.He'd lost a lot of weight.He sat in a dark corner, holding a bouquet of tiny lemon-yellow flowers.I glanced at him once, then looked away.After everyone left, he waited outside backstage.No orders this time.No asking me to come back.He just held out the flowers, his voice painfully rough."Mia, I didn't come to bother you. I just wanted to hear you finish that piece."I nodded."You heard it. Now go."Damien's eyes turned red."Are you doing well?""Very."He smiled, but tears s