Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) by Vera Hollins (romance novel chinese novels .TXT) 📕

really thinks you’re fat, there’s something horribly wrong with his brain—if he even has one.”

“Mel is absolutely right. And since we’re talking about flaws,” Sarah started, “I hate my protruding hip bones. It just feels so uncomfortable when I lie down on my stomach. My breasts are non-existent, and I have a huge thigh gap that makes me feel like everyone is staring right at it. You see? I’m not perfect either.”

“I disagree,” Hayden said, walking into the room. He wore black sweatpants and a black Nike t-shirt, looking as handsome as ever.

But not as handsome as Blake, my inner voice said, and I almost rolled my eyes at myself.

“You’re perfect from head to toe.” He stopped behind her armchair and left a kiss on the top of her head. “That is, if we exclude unshaved legs, nasty pimples, and cellulite.”

“Hayden!” Sarah shrieked.

“What?” He shrugged and looked between Melissa and me. “I’m just speaking the truth.”

Sar blushed. “Have you been listening to us?”

He raised his brow. “Like I don’t have better things to do than listen to girl talk.”

“We all know about your stalkerish tendencies,” Mel said, sticking her tongue out at him.

“It takes a stalker to know one,” he replied to her, deadpan. “Here.” He extended the sheet of paper he was holding toward me. “I improved a few lines.”

I took it, curious to see them. Sar had suggested Hayden and I could collaborate since he wrote poems and lyrics, and I’d been excited to try it out. My lyric-writing skills were solid, but Hayden knew how to add depth and shake people to the core. These lyrics were very personal, and I wasn’t fully comfortable sharing them with anyone, but Hayden had been cool about it and hadn’t made a face when I jotted down the chorus.

I smiled as I went over the words. “They’re amazing. Thank you.”

I read them a few more times, memorizing the changed lines. This song went perfectly with the melody I’d worked on the night before.

“So? Let’s hear it.” He pointed at my Martin resting next to me on the floor. I’d brought my guitar after Mel badgered me to bring it, but I hadn’t planned on playing it.

Blush settled on my cheeks. “I can’t.”

“Come on,” Hayden said. “Why not?”

I lowered my head so that my hair hid most of my cheeks, thinking maybe I should get bangs because they would help me hide my forehead too. “I have a fear of performing in front of others,” I admitted reluctantly, wanting their attention on anything else but me.

“But why?” Mel asked. “It’s just us. We won’t judge you.”

I picked at the thread sticking out of my jeans. “Yeah, well, I’m afraid anyway, okay?”

“That’s all the more reason for you to do it,” she said. “Face your fears. That’s the only way you’ll be able to conquer them.”

“We won’t look at you if that will make it easier for you,” Sar added with a faint smile.

“Or you can close your eyes and pretend we’re not here,” Mel said.

If only it were that easy. I wanted to sing and play my guitar in front of them—I wanted it so badly—but I was afraid I wasn’t going to be good enough or would screw something up.

“I can’t.”

“Then Blake is right,” Hayden said as he sat in the armchair next to Sarah’s. “You really are a pathetic coward.” I flinched, crimson red.

Sarah glared at him. “Hayden, don’t speak to her like that.”

He looked at her impassively. “Why not? It’s only the truth.” He met my gaze. “And you say you want to be a singer? How? Do you think your fear will disappear on its own? Or do you plan to run away from singing your whole life and do some 9-5 job you hate, until you’re old, wrinkled, and having stupid regrets? Are you going to realize then how stupidly you’re acting right now?”

His blunt words cranked up the ache in my chest. He was absolutely right. I was ready to ignore my dream my whole life if it meant not facing the very fear that kept me away from it. How many times had I told myself I was going to regret not being braver? It stung. I wanted to sing so badly and see the admiration in their eyes as I carried my notes, but I stayed in the dark and didn’t allow myself to shine.

So what if I made a mistake? So what if my voice or playing wasn’t good enough? I had to start somewhere.

Maybe it was time for me to take a leap of faith. Maybe I should embrace the spotlight for once and show the world who I was.

“Don’t pressure her,” Sar told him. “Do you think she doesn’t know that already? It’s not that easy—”

“No, he’s right,” I said in a shaky voice, my guitar already in my hands. I ignored the shaking of my hands and the furious pounding of my heart as I plucked the strings. I’m actually going to do this. “He’s absolutely right.” I started strumming the guitar, hoping I wouldn’t mess this up. “Don’t laugh.”

“We won’t,” Hayden replied and entwined his fingers with Sarah’s over their armrests.

Okay. I can do this.

One, two, three, four.

“I’m tired of being a coward.” I sang the words tentatively, which resulted in a weak voice and bright red cheeks.

I closed my eyes and cleared my throat as I played the soul-wrenching notes. I had to forget about my shame. There was no place for it now.

I’m tired of being a coward

Wasting my life on nothing at all

All those lost chances

All because of my fear

I feel so small

A paradox that ensnares

I’m between happiness and pain

But I’m repeating my mistakes

And everything is in vain

I’m so foolish

So foolish, yeah

I’m a coward, but then I’m not

I’m a girl who wants a way out

Of the problems and the pain

So she won’t have to run off in shame

My fear, all that fear

Cutting me, creating doubts

And everything is in vain

I’m so