Sydney

The moment the lights came back on, everyone turned. And I just stood there, wine dripping from my hair down to my feet with the shattered pieces of the oversized goblet resting at my feet.

I couldn’t move nor breathe properly.

How could I when every eye was on me, staring at how the wine had darkened the orange sweater, soaking it and making it cling to every part of my skin I was already so aware of.

The room was quiet—save for the low music still playing from the speakers, though no one was paying attention.

They just stood there, their eyes tracing every layer of skin I’d...