Frazer left early in the new year, and, for a week, things were going well for us. When he touched down in California, we had a video call. The next day he texted me sporadically as he went around for countless meetings. And even when the tour started a couple of days later, he locked his dressing room for a few moments each night to give me a call.

But a week of bliss was all I got.

The lethargy seemed to quickly consume him, with the excuses quickly streaming in.

Frazer: I can't call tonight. I'm really tired. Let's try in the morning? Sent at 5:03pm on 10/01/25

Frazer: There's still people in my dressing room. I'll call when I get back to the hotel. Sent at 2:20pm on 11/01/25

Frazer: My manager booked a thing in the morning, meaning I've got an early start. So I can't call. Postpone to tomorrow night. Sent at 6:35pm on 12/01/25

Though those were still good days. Even if they were excuses, he was at least keeping me in the loop then. He was trying.

A week after the excuses started though, they began to slow. As a slew of messages filled our chat, all very similar from the last, it seemed eventually he gave up trying to explain. He just started going silent. Perhaps because he thought I knew what he'd say. Or perhaps he just didn't care about keeping in touch anymore.

At the start of the week, the messages were twice a day, then the next day once, then two days passed...

Then next I knew my birthday had arrived and my phone had been silent from him for a week.

When I awoke, my heart dropped to see it blank from him, though after quickly scrolling through his Instagram and seeing him pictured with various artists at the Grammys and its after party—notably The Kid Laroi, Benson Boone, Taylor Swift, and once again Olivia Rodrigo—I understood what had him preoccupied. His posts and YouTube were flooded with new comments like 'how have I just only heard of him' and 'saw you mentioned by xx and came straight away. Staying for life'. It was the perfect networking event, even if he hadn't been nominated for anything.

It was hard to not stare at my phone throughout the day, focussing instead on the celebrations as my dad and brother welcomed the day with a breakfast and some presents. Then the movie I went to see with my family. The lunch afterwards... Concluding with a dinner together.

All the while, every time my phone screen lit up, my heart exploded in anticipation, only to fall to great depths when it was one of the guys reaching out to wish me a happy birthday.

They remembered... why hasn't he? I couldn't help but wonder when the evening rolled in. There was no chance he wasn't awake.

Did he forget?

Checking my phone became an addition as minutes ticked on. My dad and Archie convinced me to watch a movie with them, though my attention was diverted. Every five minutes, I tapped on the screen, wondering if perhaps I had missed the notification.

When the credits rolled, I excused myself for a shower, yet still he hadn't messaged. Instagram was instead flooded with reels of his concert that night as he afforded his fans all his attention on my special day.

The warm water wasn't enough to distract me.

Nor were the new pamper products my dad had given me as a present to help me 'relax' when my 'studies' started—though I knew he meant while Frazer ghosted me.

The desire to hear from my boyfriend consumed me like a poison, filling me with more symptoms of despair and grief as the day came to a close with no word.

When I exited the shower, I didn't even wrap myself in my towel before checking my phone.

Though it was still blank.

Dejected once again, I continued my night routine—brushed my hair and teeth, put on the new face cream in the gift pack, and dressed in my pyjamas. But as I went to pack away the new skincare products, an item in the drawer caught my attention, alerting every fiber in my body to a more pressing issue.

In that moment, as the dread ran through me like ice in my veins a new worry consumed me. Frazer's absence was no longer important.

My racing thoughts were now pressing as I lifted out my packet of birth control pills.

Shit... What do I do?

Am I...

I can't be... Surely not...

But it was due a week ago...

I took my pill when he was here... and I took it for weeks afterwards.

I only stopped once I... reached the sugar pills a week and a half ago.

Shit.

Reaching for my phone, I quickly Googled my chances.

"Unlikely if one pill is missed during combination pill... though can still occur if more than 24 hours passes. Advised you use alternative contraception for 7 days and take emergency contraception."

I could be fine... but I could not. I haven't gotten my period so...

Hanging my towel, I ran back to my room and quickly changed my clothes before grabbing my bag and house keys.

I didn't even acknowledge my father or brother as I headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" dad interrupted me on the way. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I just need to duck to the shops really quick."

"Now?" he demanded. "Surely it can wait until the—"

"It can't. I'm out of pads."

He heaved a sigh. "Let me drive you."

"I can walk."

"It's past ten, Em. You don't know what's out there... snakes, spiders, creepy pervs, a bunyip. I'm driving you."

"Fine," I conceded. "But you don't need to come in."

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

I hid my actual purchase in my bag as I exited the store with a pack of pads. Dad fired up the car to take the short drive home, but the five minute journey felt like an eternity. All I could think about was running to the bathroom and peeing on a stick.

It's fine... it's come late before.

But that's before I had a boyfriend...

But I've been taking the pill.

Yeah... and you also threw up the one the morning after. Gosh, why didn't I go get the morning after pill then? Why didn't we use damn condoms?

"You okay, Em?" dad pressed after a minute of silence had passed.

"Perfectly fine."

"He'll call... probably tomorrow morning. They have different days there," he tried to assure me.

"Yeah," I agreed, even though the absence of Frazer had become a minor to my more pressing issue right now. "I hope so."

"If not, we will call him. Or I will and I'll go off at him for you."

I faked a laugh and said, "You don't have to do that, dad."

"I will if you need me to."

"Thanks."

Thankfully the conversation fell to a standstill once again for the remainder of the drive. The moment we had come to a stop in the driveway, I leapt out of the car and started rushing to the door.

"Woah... what's the—"

"I really need to put a pad on," I lied. "I've just got toilet pap—"

"Say no more," he waved his hands in the air, buying my excuse as I overwhelmed him with embarrassment. "Off you go."

Then I hurried inside, into the bathroom, and locked the door.

With shaky hands, I pulled the box out of my bag and fumbled with the tape on the edge. Then, fingers trembling, I emptied the contents onto the sink and perused the instructions with as much attention I could afford.

"Hold in stream for ten seconds," I whispered under my breath, "And wait five minutes for result... Okay. Okay."

As I tried to tear open the plastic, the stick slipped from my fingers and fell to the ground.

"Shit," I cursed for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

After taking a deep breath, I tried again to pry open the packaging, retrieving the test from inside and uncapping it. I sat on the toilet and wedged the stick between my legs, counting long seconds to ensure I didn't waste the test, then I capped it.

The leaflet said to not check until the five minutes are up... I should flip it and wait, right?

I wiped myself clean and pulled up my underwear.

I should wait... I shouldn't check now.

I washed my hands.

Wait, Em. You don't need to—

But my hands had a mind of their own. Flipping over the test, my heart came to a standstill and the world stopped spinning.

One line.

Two lines.

"Shit," I squeaked. 

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