tw: hints of body dysmorphia

☆ 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒚𝒍𝒆𝒓

Concert night

For once, I didn't hate the image reflected in the mirror. Maybe the first time in years.

I was wearing a silver skirt, similar to the one Olivia wore in the "bad idea, right?" music video. The black tube-top hugged me like a second skin, which made me uneasy, as my body was too visible.

I pushed that thought away for a more important one—I would be in front of Olivia Rodrigo in just a few hours, singing along to the lyrics I'd made my own. I smiled, fastening the necklace with a big star that I had bought just for the concert.

Purple isn't exactly my color, I thought, looking at my nails, painted especially for the show. But who cares?

No one will be looking at me; everyone will be looking at Liv. No one will notice me. Maybe that's why I didn't feel awful.

"Pretty isn't pretty" came to mind while I was putting on makeup. I always sang it while getting ready, honestly. It's not the best self-esteem booster, but it works—it makes me feel understood.

I slipped on my black Converse; I was ready. All I needed was my bag and the purple cowboy hat I wanted to bring along to honor Sour.

My phone chimed.

It was time. The moment I had to face alone.I got in the car and followed the directions, though really, I was just going wherever my heart was taking me.

---

I held onto every feeling I was experiencing in that moment, paying attention to the scents in the air, the wind blowing, and the sound of tires on the pavement. I knew that once the concert was over, I'd want to relive it all. So I savored every sensation.

I parked in a crowded lot with many other cars and, within five seconds, realized how many people I'd be with over the next few hours. It was overwhelming. I made my way through the noisy crowd to my entry to the pit.

The rush of voices was immersive. We all sounded like one loud voice.---

I was completely immersed in the music. The dim lights and vibrant colors danced across the stage, mixing with the light smoke drifting in the air as Olivia Rodrigo sang one of her most emotional songs. The sound of the guitars and Olivia's powerful voice filled every corner of the arena. Every word hit me, as if she was reading my mind and putting into music the feelings I couldn't express.

Around me, the crowd sang along at the top of their lungs, hands raised to the sky, yet I felt as if I was alone in this sea of people. Alone and almost complete. Just me, Olivia, and a part of me that still felt empty. I closed my eyes from time to time, savoring every note, feeling my heartbeat sync with the drums, as each thought dissolved into a whirl of melody.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow moving quickly through the crowd, and it was at that exact moment, with no warning, that everything happened. A sudden bump. Someone tripped and collided with me. I lost my balance, but a warm hand caught me before I could fall completely.

«Sorry, I didn't see you » said a male voice, tinted with a nervous laugh.

I turned, finding myself face-to-face with a tall guy with messy hair and an embarrassed smile on his lips. He wore a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, but he was unmistakable: Vinnie Hacker. I recognized him instantly; after all, that lockdown year spent drooling over his Instagram was unforgettable, and his face was everywhere lately.

« Are you okay? » he asked, his tone concerned, as he tried to steady himself, clearly embarrassed by the situation. I realized my heart was pounding, but this time, it wasn't because of the music. « Yeah, thanks » I managed to say, putting all my remaining energy into sounding as nonchalant as possible. I couldn't believe that THE Vinnie was right there, just a few inches away, and that he had just bumped into me. Like a fucking scene from a movie. And no way was I asking for a photo. 

In response, he kept his arm around my waist, staring at me. He looked at me with the intensity of a cat eyeing food. Embarrassed, I removed his arm myself and quickly turned back toward the stage.

What the hell just happened?

★ 𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓

"Yes, thanks" was the first thing I heard from her. Without even realizing it, that night, I bumped into a girl in the front row. 

I used to think love at first sight was a total load of bullshit.

So why, when my eyes met hers, did I feel my heart beating so hard? My stomach churning?

They weren't even particularly striking—blue or some other basic shade that most people consider beautiful. They were large brown eyes, looking straight into mine. There was something magical there. Maybe it was the lights from the show, flickering and reflecting in that honey-brown.

She wasn't even your typical blondie bitch, no. Her hair was dark with hints of red. It was long and voluminous, with curls that could drive anyone crazy. Including me. 

My arm was around her waist, and I didn't want to let go. And she was still singing as she turned, only stopping for a second. For me, it felt like slow motion. 

Her lips—the most beautiful pair of lips I'd ever seen—curved into a smile that faded instantly as she muttered her "yes, thanks" in the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard. I needed to know what she tasted like. An instinct drove me toward her, as if I wanted to fall onto her lips and fill them with kisses. 

We had to be opposite poles of a magnet—why else would I feel so drawn to her? 

And the thing that left me breathless, made my head spin and lose all sense for a moment, was that she didn't know who I was. To her, I was just a fan at a concert. She hadn't jumped all over me because I was Vinnie Hacker.

But I would've jumped all over her, no question.

When she turned back toward the stage, I knew immediately what I had to do—find a reason to learn her name. 

I looked around, trying to come up with an idea, but a girl came up to me and shouted over the noise, asking for a photo. I agreed, though my mind was still focused on the curly-haired girl. When the girl put her arm around my neck, I instinctively lowered my head and noticed that She had her shoelaces untied. I quickly finished the photo with the fan and dismissed her. There it was—a reason to talk to her.

«Hey, curls » I called, tapping her shoulder. She turned again. «Sorry to bother you, but your shoelaces are untied. » She immediately checked. « Oh, you're right » she said, going to bend down to tie them, but I beat her to it, kneeling to tie her shoe. « Had to find a way to make up for bumping into you anyway » I said. She answered, embarrassed, « You were already forgiven » « I'm Vinnie » I said as I stood up. She looked at me, confused, and laughed « I know. Does a celebrity really need to introduce himself? » « Can't expect everyone to know who I am, and besides, it was a tactic to get your name » I replied, flashing her a shameless grin. She tilted her head slightly, intrigued.

« You care about my name? »

« Shouldn't I? »

She bit her lip slightly and smiled, saying, « Corinna. Corinna Byler. »