Page 21 of Undisputed Chaos
He'd found me. He wanted me to know it.
I stumbled back to my seat, phone clutched to mychest. He'd sought me out. He'd looked for me, found me, and left his mark on my digital life where anyone could see it.
The regret that had been drowning me all morning transformed into something light, almost like hope.
I hadn't ruined everything. I hadn't lost my chance. Adrian, with his wild eyes and dangerous smile, had tracked me down and opened the door again.
I opened my DMs, half-expecting to find a message from him there, but there was nothing. Just the comments, subtle and public, like a game he was inviting me to play.
Like a hunt he was letting me know had begun.
A slow smile crept across my lips, chasing away the last of my despair.
Maybe I hadn't been brave last night. Maybe I'd run when I should have stayed. But I was being offered a second chance, a chance to be the girl who said yes to the fire, who didn't run from the thing she wanted most.
This time, I wouldn't make the same mistake.
My fingers hovered over the post button, a familiar flutter of pre-upload nerves dancing in my stomach.
But this time was different. I wasn't thinking about engagement rates, brand partnerships, or what my followers might like.
I was thinking about him.
I'd been scrolling through my drafts for over an hour, looking for the perfect post that might catch his attention again.
I remembered the peach eyeshadow tutorial I'd filmed a few days ago, the one where I'd tried that new palette with the shimmery peachy shade that made my eyes pop. I hadn't posted it yet, saving it for a low-content day.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered to myself, even as I polished the caption. "He's not going to notice a makeup video.”
But what if he did?
I hit play, watching myself on screen one last time. The lighting was perfect, catching the subtle shimmer as I blended it across my lid. I'd paired it with a soft pink gloss and a cream blush that made me look naturally flushed.
In the video, I smiled as I demonstrated the application, completely unaware that a few days later, I'd be posting it for an entirely different audience than intended.
For him.
Before I could overthink it any further, I hit post and tossed my phone onto the couch like it had caught on fire.
"You're being stupid," I told my empty apartment, though I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "He's probably not even going to see it."
But if he did?
I paced around my living room, trying to focus on anything besides my phone. I rearranged a stack of sketch books, wiped an invisible speck of dust from my coffee table, and checked the soil in my plants.
Ten minutes. I'd give it ten minutes before checking.
Five minutes later, I was sprawled across the couch, phone in hand, refreshing the post.
Comments were already trickling in, the usual mix of compliments and product questions. Likes accumulated steadily. But no sign of @AdrianCatalyst.
"Of course not," I muttered to myself, a bubble of disappointment forming in my chest. He's a famous boxer. He's probably training or doing something important. Not watching makeup videos online.
My apartment suddenly felt too quiet, too empty. I switched on some music, trying to drown out the hopeful voice in my head that kept wondering if he might still see it and might still respond.
I'd nearly convinced myself to put the phone down when the notification appeared:
@AdrianCatalyst liked your post.
