.....
There are two kinds of silence.
The first is soft. Peaceful. Like when you wake before the sun, and the world hasn't caught up yet.
The second is sharp. Cold. Like a stage after the lights go out.
I lived in both.
But this silence? The one in my apartment, where the fridge hums and my phone doesn't buzz anymore?
This one's mine.
I chose it.
Because four years ago, I left the noise.
I was twenty-two. Famous. Exhausted. Empty.
People called it a breakdown. Some thought I overdosed. Some said I was pregnant and hiding in the mountains of Italy.
But the truth is simpler than all their gossip.
I just… stopped.
Stopped pretending. Stopped shining. Stopped feeding the version of me that they built — and I let them.
The mirror doesn't lie.
It shows you what's left when the glitter falls off your skin.
Right now, I'm looking at a girl with tired eyes.
A girl who once had everything — and pushed it all away.
I think about Caleb.
Of course I do.
He was there before the lights. Before the headlines.
He held my hand at sixteen when I thought one bad review would ruin me.
He stayed when everyone else walked away.
And still, I let him go.
Or maybe… I made him go.
There's this quote I read once:
> "Greed doesn't always scream. Sometimes it whispers 'just a little more.'"
That was me.
I wanted more.
Even when I had it all.
And now?
Now, I'm twenty-six.
Not famous. Not rich. Not broken either.
Just… rebuilding.
This is my story.
Not the one the media wrote. Not the one my fans tattooed on their arms.
Mine.
So I pick up my mic.
Not the one for concerts. The one connected to my old laptop. The one I haven't touched in four years.
I press record.
"Hi… My name is Nova.
And I used to be the girl you all thought you knew."
"Let me tell you my story.
The story of a girl who thought making it big and early in life was the key.
The story of a girl who became a woman at the age of 14.
So sit tight and relive my life with me."
I have to warn you though, it's one hell of a rollercoaster.