"A friend offered to help me get back at him. Fake engagement. But somewhere between this morning and right now it stopped being fake. Or maybe it didn't. I'm still figuring that part out.”
“Now I'm trying to make decisions for myself instead of letting someone else decide. Even if I'm making mistakes. At least they're mine."
"So how do you do that?" the woman asked, "Choose yourself?"
April laughed. "I have no idea. I'm literally hiding in a bathroom because my phone won't stop buzzing and everyone wants to know if the cupcake song is about my ex and I don't know how to answer my own mother." She met the woman's eyes. "But I think it starts with not going along with someone else's version of what happened. Even if I screw up."
The woman nodded slowly. Wiped at her face one more time. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay." She straightened, checking her reflection in the mirror. The strap held. The mascara was still a disaster, but her spine was straighter. "I'm going to tell him to go to hell."
"Good. Want backup?”
"No. I've got it." The woman looked at April, something passing between them. "Thank you."
"Anytime."
The woman left, shoulders back, heels clicking with purpose.
April stood there alone for a moment. Then pulled out her phone, typed quickly.
April:I'm fine. Mostly.
Laura would have questions. Everyone would have questions.
April put her phone on the counter, let it buzz.
The door opened. Two women walked in, already mid-conversation, their voices carrying over the sound of running water as they moved to the sinks.
"Did you see that song is already trending?"
"The Cupcake one? God, yes. I've seen like three different TikToks with it. Someone made a whole montage with sad clown filters."
April kept her head down, letting her hair fall forward like a curtain. They hadn't recognized her, she was just another woman washing her hands in a club bathroom.
"I need to know who the sad clown is in real life," the blonde said, laughing. "Someone has to know."
"There's a whole Reddit thread already," the brunette replied, capping her mascara. "People are pulling receipts. Someone thinks they found his LinkedIn."
"Whoever she is," the blonde continued, snapping her compact shut, "she's iconic. Like, imagine being so done with your ex that a literal celebrity writes a diss track."
The brunette grinned. "I hope she's having the best night of her life right now."
They left, still laughing, still discussing theories, the door swinging shut behind them.
April stood there. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. Everyone would know.
She wasn’t just April Feuller anymore, the woman who’d cried in a supply closet and eaten revenge cake there too.
She was a punchline. A headline. A hashtag. And somehow still standing.
Her phone buzzed again on the counter. She glanced down.
JAX:[SCREENSHOT]
#TheCupcakeSong – #3 on Twitter. Climbing.
