Brazzers
Josh, Roxy Risingstar Pic(s)
The vibrant energy of the club pulsed around me, a stark contrast to the lonely silence at our table where Josh’s face was illuminated only by the cold, blue glow of his phone. I, Roxy Risingstar, was seated right across from him, dressed in a new crimson dress I had bought just for this night, feeling more invisible with every silent second that ticked by. My name might suggest a life of spotlights and applause, but in that moment, I was just a girl competing with a screen for a sliver of attention. He was endlessly scrolling, his thumb a mindless metronome, completely oblivious to the world we were supposed to be sharing. I watched a laugh escape his lips at some anonymous meme, a sound that should have been a gift between us but was now spent on a stranger’s digital joke. The bass from the speakers thrummed up through the floor, a rhythm that should have been ours to move to, yet he remained perfectly, tragically still. I traced the condensation on my glass, each droplet mirroring the slow drip of my disappointment, wondering what captivating universe he had chosen over mine. A part of me wanted to scream, to shatter this digital barrier with a force that would finally make him see me. Instead, I just took a slow, steadying breath, the music and the laughter around us feeling like a cruel taunt to my isolation. The simple, desperate plea echoed on a loop in my mind, a silent scream into the void of our date: please, just put down the phone and focus on me.
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