Rose's pov:
Black.
Red.
Orange.
Fabric flew through the air like autumn leaves caught in a whirlwind, discarded in every direction as Aria ravaged my closet with the intensity of a warrior preparing for battle.
My room, once a sanctuary of order, now looked like it had been hit by a level-five hurricane—except instead of debris, the wreckage consisted of clothes, shoes, and accessories she deemed unworthy.
I sighed from my spot on the bed, lazily painting my nails a soft neutral shade—the one girly indulgence I allowed myself.
"You do realize that you are the one who's going to have to clean all this up, right?" My voice was flat, but the warning was clear.
The sound of frantic rummaging from the closet paused.
For a second, I thought she might actually stop, maybe even process the chaos she had just created.
But I had underestimated her dedication to fashion above all else.
Her head peeked out from behind the closet door, wide eyes scanning the devastation she had wrought across my floor, bed, and chair. I watched, amused, as the realization slowly dawned on her.
She turned to me, all innocence and feigned ignorance. "You're joking… right?" she asked, voice an octave higher than usual.
I didn't say a word. Just shook my head, a wicked grin forming as I returned to my nails, thoroughly enjoying the horror creeping onto her face.
Without missing a beat, she pulled out a white dress from behind her back like a magician revealing her grand trick and strutted out of the closet.
"Good thing I already found the perfect dress for you! So no more mess, no more labor." She grinned, proud as if she'd just cracked the Da Vinci Code.
I barely glanced at it before my stomach dropped.
That was small. Like, is-this-for-a-toddler? small.
I abandoned my nail polish mid-stroke, staring at the barely-there fabric clutched in her hands.
"Absolutely not. I am not going to this party looking like a budget hooker."
My best friend, unfortunately, was immune to my protests.
"Oh, come on! This is the most conservative yet sexy thing I could find in my closet!" she whined dramatically.
I blinked. Wait a second.
"Hold up… your closet?" My gaze snapped to hers, and she nodded sheepishly.
My eyes swept over the room, taking in the catastrophic destruction she had unleashed upon my innocent belongings. "Then what the hell was the point of trashing my room?!"
Aria had the audacity to shrug, looking entirely unbothered. "I had to check if you had something better to wear. But turns out, you need a wardrobe makeover as badly as you need a boyfriend. Actually—scratch that—you need the wardrobe more."
I flopped back onto the bed with a groan. "I don't need a boyfriend."
"Of course you don't," she agreed easily, still sifting through my things. "But you're getting one, and you have to look gorgeous for him tonight."
I sat up straight, throwing her a glare. "For the tenth time, Aria, it's not a date. Leo invited me to a party. A party where literally the entire college is going. That doesn't constitute a date."
I crossed my arms. "Besides, I'm not even looking for a relationship right now. I just want to focus on college, get my degree, and get out of this town. You know that. I don't want anything tying me down here. I've already talked to Jake about it too."
Silence.
When I finally looked at Aria, the teasing glint in her eyes was gone, replaced with something… softer. Sad.
"Not even our friendship?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
My chest tightened. Aria had always been full of life, always radiating warmth like a human ray of sunshine. Seeing anything but mischief and excitement in her eyes felt… wrong.
My best friend. My anchor through the years. My person.
I immediately hated that I had made her feel that way.