3RD PERSON'S POV
Days had passed since that night, and the silence between Rodora and Orange had grown into an unbridgeable chasm. The morning after their intense, silent kiss, Orange had woken up to find Rodora gone. The bed beside her was cold, the only evidence of Rodora's presence being the faint scent of her lingering on the pillow. Orange stared at the empty space beside her, a mix of emotions swirling within her. She tried to shake off the memories of the night before—the way Rodora's lips had felt against hers, the way they had clung to each other as if their lives depended on it. But the memories refused to fade, haunting her every waking moment.
Determined to push Rodora out of her mind, Orange threw herself into her studies. She spent hours at her desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes, trying to drown out the thoughts of Rodora with equations and theories. She meticulously outlined her chapters, filled notebooks with detailed annotations, and immersed herself in complex problems. But no matter how hard she tried, the memories of their time together seeped into her thoughts, distracting her from her work. The equations blurred, the theories seemed to merge with images of Rodora, and the soft whisper of her name echoed in the quiet of her room.
The band members received an email from Orange that afternoon. It was brief and to the point, stating her decision to quit the band effective immediately. She didn't offer any explanations, didn't provide any reasons. She simply stated her decision and wished them all the best. The email was cold and detached, a stark contrast to the warmth she once shared with them.
The reactions from the band members were immediate and concerned. Ellie was the first to call, her voice filled with worry as she left a voicemail for Orange, asking if she was okay and if there was anything she could do to help. But Orange didn't respond. She couldn't bring herself to face them, to explain the turmoil she was going through. Each missed call and unread message added to the weight on her shoulders, a silent testament to the connections she was severing.
Days turned into weeks, and Orange's isolation deepened. She barely left her room, her only company being her textbooks and the occasional cup of coffee. She avoided the places where she might run into Rodora, avoided the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. Her once vibrant world had shrunk to the confines of her room, the walls closing in on her with each passing day.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the thoughts of Rodora. The kiss they had shared haunted her dreams, the way Rodora had held her, the way they had spent the night together until dawn. It was a memory she couldn't shake, no matter how much she wanted to. The nights were the hardest; the silence of the dark hours only amplified her thoughts, the stillness giving space for her mind to wander back to Rodora.
One evening, as the sun set and the room was bathed in a warm, golden light, Orange sat at her desk, staring blankly at her notes. The words on the pages seemed meaningless, the numbers and symbols a jumbled mess. She felt a pang of loneliness, a longing for the connection she had once shared with Rodora. But she quickly pushed it away, reminding herself of the hurt and confusion that had followed. She forced herself to focus, to drown out the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
She couldn't allow herself to dwell on the past. She had to move forward, had to focus on her studies and her future. She told herself this repeatedly, using it as a mantra to keep herself going. But as the days went by, the silence between her and Rodora weighed heavily on her heart, a constant reminder of what they had lost. Each silent moment was a void filled with memories, each second a reminder of the bond that had been broken.
One night, unable to sleep, Orange found herself scrolling through old photos on her phone. Pictures of happier times, of smiles and laughter, of moments when the world seemed perfect. She paused on a photo of them at the beach, arms wrapped around each other, the sun setting behind them. The joy in their eyes was unmistakable, the connection palpable. She stared at the photo for a long time, tears welling up in her eyes.
The next morning, she found a small box in her closet, filled with mementos of their time together. Concert tickets, notes, small gifts—each item a piece of their shared history. She spent hours going through the box, each item bringing back a flood of memories. By the time she reached the bottom, her heart felt heavy with the weight of the past.
Despite her efforts to move on, Orange couldn't shake the feeling of loss. She continued to study, continued to isolate herself, trying to build a wall around her heart. But deep down, she knew that the memories of Rodora would always be there, a part of her that she couldn't erase. The wall she was trying to build seemed fragile, each brick she laid being undermined by the memories that refused to fade.
Her studies, once a refuge, now felt like a prison. The pressure she placed on herself grew, each failure to focus adding to her frustration. Her grades began to slip, and her professors noticed the change. They tried to reach out, but Orange, determined to deal with her pain alone, brushed off their concerns.
One day, as she walked through the campus, she saw a couple holding hands, laughing together. The sight triggered a wave of longing, a reminder of what she had lost. She hurried back to her room, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. She collapsed on her bed, the sobs wracking her body, the pain of her loss overwhelming her.
In the quiet of her room, as the tears finally subsided, Orange realized that she couldn't keep running from her feelings. She couldn't keep isolating herself, couldn't keep pretending that she was okay. She needed to face her emotions, to confront the pain and the memories, if she ever hoped to move forward. The realization was a small step, but it was a step nonetheless, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had enveloped her.
And so, with a deep breath, Orange began the slow, painful process of healing. She reached out to Ellie, responding to her messages, opening up about her feelings. The conversation was hard, filled with tears and raw emotions, but it was a start. For the first time in weeks, Orange felt a flicker of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, she could find a way through the pain.
The path ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and difficult emotions. But as Orange took her first steps towards healing, she knew that she wasn't alone. She had her friends, her music, and most importantly, she had herself. And with time, she hoped that the memories of Rodora would become less of a haunting presence and more of a cherished part of her past.
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