25. IZZY
“Ibelieve EcoChic will be launching a collection for men very soon,” I heard Dan telling some media. I did mention it to him and Nick before, but the plans had not started officially.
Nick.
Thinking about him made me feel queasy. My head began to feel heavy.
As Dan continued to chat with the press, I backed away little by little. He’d caught their attention and I’d already said my piece earlier.
Why are you doing this to me, Nick?
That same question kept going round and round in my mind, making me nauseous.
Alone amid the waning launch party, negative emotions I’d kept at bay surged. Snatching a glass of wine, I downed it swiftly, the bitter liquid failing to drown my rising distress.
I have to get out of here, I thought desperately. Needing an escape, I made my way to the backstage, craving solitude in the midst of the chaos.
The muted hum of the party still reached me as I sought refuge behind the curtains. Leaning against a wall, I closed my eyes, attempting to quell the storm within. The distant chatter of the crowd blended with the throbbing ache of disappointment.
“What just happened?” I muttered to myself, the words escaping into the empty space, unheard.
I could no longer deny the intense pain that was quickly taking over my body. Nick Hale was a major disappointment.
You knew he couldn’t be trusted in relationships, a voice whispered in my head. And still, you hoped and let yourself be carried away.
His history was proving to be right. He wasn’t capable of changing. He wasn’t capable of loving and being in a steady relationship.
A tear fell down my cheek. And when it started, I could not make the tears stop. I ran toward my dressing room and shut the door behind me before anyone could see me. What turned out to be a great success and supposedly a joyful occasion was now crashing down on me.
No, I told myself after a while. I can’t let him get to me. I don’t deserve this. It’s my moment, and he will not take it from me.
As I composed myself in the dressing room, a sudden explosion reverberated from the next room, followed by the alarming crackle of flames. I jumped from my seat in alarm and moved toward the thin wall that separated me from the other room.
Fire!I thought as I heard the unmistakable sounds. Holy shit.
Panic seized me, and the distant sounds of revelry continued, blissfully unaware of the impending danger. The acrid scent of smoke began to seep into the room, and instinctively, I knew I had to act quickly.
Rushing toward the door, my hands fumbled with the handle, but it wouldn”t budge. Frantic, I banged on it, hoping someone would hear over the party’s clamor. The smoke thickened, clawing at my throat, and I felt a rising sense of suffocation.
I used all my strength to open it, but nothing happened. I put the weight of my body on the door, driven by the adrenaline rush in my body. Still nothing.
“Help!” I cried out. But for all I knew, there was no one else in the backstage but me.
I took out my phone quickly and tried to dial Tanya’s number. But the signal was weak, and I couldn’t get through.
“Fuck!” I yelled, throwing the phone on the counter.
With each passing second, the urgency intensified. I scanned the room for another exit, and in my desperation, I spotted a small window. Hastily, I grabbed a nearby chair, shattering the glass to create an opening. The cool night air rushed in, providing a brief respite from the smoke.
At this time, I could hear shouting and panicked voices. The fire seemed to have spread already.
I stumbled toward my bag and grabbed a scarf and a bottle of water. I wet the scarf and wrapped it around the lower part of my face to cover my mouth and nose. I was now coughing hard from the thick smoke that was quickly engulfing the dressing room.
In that critical moment, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I struggled to maintain clarity amid the chaos. The smoke continued to swirl around me, filling the room with an ominous haze. I could hardly open my eyes.
Ring! The loud sound gave me some hope and boosted me up to get my phone. It was Tanya.
“Izzy! Where are you?!” Her voice was full of fright and alarm, but it was difficult to understand what else she said after that. The network was not good, or my brain was not functioning well anymore.
“Dressing room,” I managed to wheeze out.
She said something else, but the line disconnected. I tried to dial her back, but I could not connect.
“Aaahhh!” I screamed in frustration, more tears coming down my eyes.
With my vision blurred by tears and the disorienting smoke, I stumbled back to the shattered window. The shouts and clamor from outside intensified, echoing the urgency of the situation.
I have to get out of here now. I can’t die in here.
Despite my trembling limbs and disorientation, I clambered onto the nearby chair, determined to escape the encroaching inferno. However, each attempt to hoist myself through the narrow opening ended in failure. My weakening body succumbed to dizziness, and the room spun as I grappled with the fear of imminent collapse.
I lay on the floor, gasping for air, the image of Nick flashing in my mind. In that fleeting moment of vulnerability, I found solace in the memory of our shared laughter which felt like ages ago.
I love you, Nick Hale.Those were the last words in my head before everything turned black.