Because yes.
Because scouts watch me like I’m a product.
Because coaches talk about “next level” like it’s inevitable.
I type what I can admit.
NumberEleven: yeah.
NumberEleven: i feel like i’m always being evaluated.
LittleTooMuch: That sounds exhausting.
NumberEleven: it is.
NumberEleven: but i’m good at pretending i’m fine.
LittleTooMuch: Same.
That single word sits in my chest like a weight.
Same.
I type before I can think.
NumberEleven: you never have to pretend with me.
Three dots appear instantly.
LittleTooMuch: I know.
My throat tightens.
I run a hand through my hair and stare at the ceiling, trying to understand why this feels like something.
My phone buzzes again.
LittleTooMuch: Also, for the record, I’m proud of myself.
LittleTooMuch: Even if it’s annoying.
NumberEleven: good. you should be.
LittleTooMuch: Don’t get used to me being emotionally healthy.
NumberEleven: wouldn’t dream of it.
LittleTooMuch: Ok. I’m going to try to sleep. Don’t commit crimes.
NumberEleven: no promises.
LittleTooMuch: I knew it. Criminal.
NumberEleven: revolutionary, actually.
LittleTooMuch: Sure. Goodnight, revolutionary.
My chest loosens.
