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TWENTY-FOUR

Playing: Moral of the Story by Ashe ft. Niall Horan

Whenever I have moments to myself these days, it’s bittersweet. I have to give myself a moment to catch up, remind myself how much has changed in such a short amount of time.

There’s times where I feel like my moments with these men aren’t real. I have to remind myself that they did happen to me , not someone else. It’s a weird feeling, knowing that you’re achieving happiness but also still completely caught off guard by the pure notion of its existence.

Then again, it’s hard to completely disconnect when there’s always something there to remind you, like the random texts I received earlier today that are still taunting me.

I’ve tried to keep myself distracted with other things, but now that the self deprecating thoughts are back full force, it’s easy to take my phone and torture myself with their existence.

Unknown (10:15 am) Stupid Slutty Omega

Unknown (10:30 am) I saw you with your new alpha. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?

Unknown (10:35 am) They’ll discover soon enough what kind of disappointment you really are

I pick up my phone to, regrettably, reply to the strange messenger.

Stacia: Excuse me? Who is this?

I wait a few minutes, willing myself to block the number and look the other way, but the little psychological masochist inside me is one for punishment. I’m not consciously sure what I think I did wrong anymore, but I still keep an eye on my phone, especially when the little dots appear.

Unknown (3:03 pm) You really think I’d just forget what you did to me?

Unknown (3:03 pm) You were always planning on being a selfish omega and throwing me to the dirt

Unknown (3:04 pm) And with the alphas that you apparently only met the night before? I don’t believe that for one second

Unknown (3:05 pm) You obviously cheated on me. Just fucking admit it.

I raise my brows in confusion, my heart racing faster than it was.

Stacia (3:06 pm) Derek?

Unknown (3:06 pm) Who else? Did you do this shit to someone else, too?

I feel bile threatening to come up my throat. I blocked his number but I should have known he would find a way to slither back in to mess with my head.

Stacia (3:08 pm) I blocked you for a reason, Derek. I don’t want to see or talk to you.

I go to delete the thread and call one of my boys but my phone buzzes again. I compulsively check the response.

A glutton for punishment, apparently.

Unknown (3:09 pm) Are you cheating on them, too? I really thought you were one of the good ones, Stacia. What the fuck happened to you?

I swallow roughly. His responses always leave me confused.

Every time we fought, even after I would forgive him, even after he said he would never say or do the things he did again, he would always turn it back on me.

My character. My interests. My clothes. My desires .

It always set him off whenever I decided to have my own autonomous thoughts.

I sincerely have no idea where he got the idea that we had anything in common.

Stacia (3:11 pm) You never make any sense. I have always been the same person. /You/ are the one that changed.

My omega is screaming at me to ignore him, yelling at me to block the number. It’s hard to listen. I just need to know why . What did I do wrong?

What have I ever done wrong?

My father was always a cold man. He only understood finances and etiquette (his own version of it).

But, until my designation presented, I was mainly ignored, discarded over to nannies or family friends.

I never knew that things could get worse than abandonment until I officially became an omega.

It was like no matter what I did, it would never be right.

I would never be right. And I guess I wouldn’t be.

Why have kids if you’re not going to love them unconditionally?

What made them so deluded to think that I would turn out to be a beta just like them both?

There’s never been any biological evidence supporting their delusions, him and my mother both.

The fact that they let it be known, too, really pushed me past the point of understanding.

My omega always whimpers inside me whenever I think of my parents.

Is it really me? Was I just not meant to be who I am?