second morning she wakes up in Las Vegas, there is an unusual weight
on Annabeth’s left hand.
the first thing she notices – aside from the wicked headache
pounding away at her skull, courtesy of one of the worst
of her life, that is. She nearly pokes her eye out with it when she
reaches up to rub sleep and crusty mascara out of her eyes, and when
she pulls her hand back to glare at the offending weight, it sparkles
like a diamond in the morning light.
it’s sparkling because it is
diamond. A diamond ring, actually.
Annabeth thinks, her brain fighting to put all the pieces of this
puzzle together through the groggy haze of her hangover. It
almost looks like a…
hits her like a freight train and Annabeth bolts upright in bed with
a strangled gasp. Her head spins at the sudden movement, but the
nauseated lurch of her stomach everything to do with the piece of
jewelry on the fourth finger of her left hand.
ring is glittery and gaudy and everything Annabeth’s worst
nightmares are made of; it looks like diamond encrusted fly’s eye,
so cumbersome and ridiculous that it will undoubtedly get caught in
her hair, on her clothes, and maybe even in the door. It is not a
ring she’d left her hotel room wearing last night.
is, unmistakably, a wedding
Annabeth swears, staring at the ring in shock. What on earth had she
done last night?
I was at a bar with friends when I first caught a whiff of the impending shitstorm. We were having birthday drinks when someone reached out to tell me that my ex had written a screed about our relationship that had been posted to a forum I belong to. Slowly, horrifically, we discovered that he had posted it to several other popular forums (that had immediately nuked it) and created a Wordpress blog that was literally nothing but his 10,000-word rant about our failed relationship. Shortly after that, we found Wikipedia edits on my page that had altered my date of death to coincide with planned public appearances (or, in one case, simply “soon”).
On this day in history: Troye Sivan Mellet, being the impatient and passionate little shit that he is, decided to surprise his fans (some of whom were peacefully sleeping and unaware of the impending shitstorm) with his first single two days earlier than he had promised it. With less than three hours of warning, Troye dropped the single and killed all of his people one by one as they listened for the first time to one of the most important songs they’d heard. This song quickly meant just as much to his people as it did to Troye, and I really really can’t believe it’s been a year since I heard it for the first time.
It’s been a long year, but I can honestly say I’m still as in love with it as I was the day that I woke up to the destruction that it left in its wake.