Brandon's POV
The moment Chloe said it—
"Don't worry. I'll go with Seth."
—something inside me split open.
It wasn't loud or dramatic; it was sharp and internal, like a clean blade sliding between my ribs and twisting just enough to remind me I was alive. The words didn't echo; they lodged themselves in my mind, sending a jolt straight up my spine, stiffening my shoulders, and knocking the air from my lungs.
I stood there, frozen.
My mother. Seth. Casey. The cameras. The murmuring crowd.
I saw all of them—and none of them.
What I truly felt was Chloe letting go.
Or worse—sounding like she already had.
I wanted to say something—anything. To laugh it off, to pull her aside, to tell my mother she was wrong, to tell Seth to wait, to tell Chloe that I did care. This wasn't indifference; it was damage control, survival, me trying not to burn everything I'd built.
But my mouth didn't cooperate.
My mother smiled—a relieved, satisfied smile.
