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Gorya doesn’t look at her.
That’s how Shasha knows something is wrong.
Usually, even when they argue—
Gorya looks at her.
Glares at her.
Rolls her eyes at her.
But not like this.
Now—
She just stands there.
Arms crossed.
Eyes fixed somewhere else.
“I think we should stop.”
The words land too easily.
Too clean.
Shasha blinks.
“…What?”
Gorya exhales slowly.
Like she’s been holding that in for a long time.
“This—whatever this is,” she gestures vaguely between them, “it’s not going to work.”
Shasha lets out a small, disbelieving laugh.
“Wow. Okay. That’s—sudden.”
“It’s not sudden.”
That makes her pause.
“…Then what is it?”
Gorya finally looks at her.
And there it is.
Not anger.
Not annoyance.
Something worse.
Doubt.
“You don’t see it, do you?” Gorya says quietly.
“See what?”
“This isn’t our world,” Gorya gestures around—toward the studio, the lights, the people passing by outside. “This is yours.”
Shasha frowns.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does,” Gorya says, voice tightening. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
Shasha steps closer.
“Gorya—”
“You’re everywhere, Shasha,” she continues, cutting her off. “People know you. They watch you. They talk about you like you’re—”
She stops.
Shakes her head.
“Like you’re untouchable.”
Shasha’s chest tightens.
“And me?” Gorya laughs softly, but it doesn’t sound happy. “I’m just—what? Your stylist? The girl you hang out with when you’re not busy?”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
Silence.
Because suddenly—
Shasha doesn’t know how to prove it.
“You’ll get tired of this,” Gorya says. “Of me.”
“I won’t.”
“You say that now.”
“I mean it.”
Gorya shakes her head.
“No, you don’t.”
Something in Shasha cracks.
“I’m right here,” she says, voice rising slightly. “I’m choosing you. What else do you want from me?”
“I want you to understand,” Gorya says, quieter now. “That this isn’t equal.”
Shasha freezes.
Equal.
“I’ll always feel like I’m behind you,” Gorya continues. “Like I don’t belong in your world.”
“Then I’ll meet you in yours.”
Gorya looks at her.
Really looks at her.
“You can’t just say things like that.”
“I’m not just saying it.”
“Yes, you are,” Gorya snaps. “Because you don’t know what that means.”
“Then tell me.”
Silence.
Gorya swallows.
“It means giving things up.”
Shasha doesn’t hesitate.
“Then I will.”
That makes Gorya laugh.
But it sounds almost broken.
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You won’t,” Gorya repeats. “Because this—” she gestures again, frustrated, “this is who you are.”
Shasha steps closer.
“No,” she says softly.
“This isn’t who I am.”
A beat.
“You are.”
Gorya shakes her head.
“Stop.”
“I’m serious.”
“Shasha—”
“I’ll quit.”
The words hang in the air.
Heavy.
Unbelievable.
Gorya freezes.
“…What?”
Shasha’s voice doesn’t shake.
Not this time.
“I’ll quit,” she repeats. “If that’s what it takes.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean it.”
“No, you don’t,” Gorya says quickly. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to leave.”
“Yes.”
That stops her.
Shasha takes another step forward.
Close now.
Too close.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
Her voice is quieter now.
More real than it’s ever been.
“I don’t care about any of that if it means losing you.”
Gorya looks at her.
Conflicted.
Shaken.
“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” she whispers.
“Then make me understand,” Shasha says.
Silence.
And then—
Something shifts.
Because for the first time—
Shasha doesn’t try to joke.
Doesn’t try to deflect.
She just—
steps closer.
And drops.
Gorya’s breath catches.
“Shasha—what are you doing?”
But Shasha doesn’t stand up.
She stays there.
On her knees.
Looking up at her.
“I’m asking you to stay.”
The words are simple.
But they hit harder than anything else.
Gorya shakes her head immediately.
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m not above this,” Shasha says quietly. “Not when it comes to you.”
“Get up.”
“No.”
“Shasha—”
“I’ll do anything,” she continues. “I’ll fix it. I’ll change things. I’ll—”
Her voice falters slightly.
“Just don’t leave me like this.”
Silence.
The world around them fades.
No noise.
No people.
Just them.
And the space between staying—
and walking away.
Gorya’s hands tremble slightly at her sides.
“You shouldn’t have to beg,” she whispers.
“Maybe I should have done it sooner.”
That—
That breaks something.
Gorya looks away.
Because this—
this version of Shasha—
she’s never seen before.
Not untouchable.
Not confident.
Just—
real.
And scared.
“…Why?” Gorya asks.
Shasha doesn’t hesitate.
“Because I love you.”
The words land softly.
But they echo.
And suddenly—
everything makes sense.
The words don’t feel loud.
They don’t echo.
They just—
stay.
Right there between them.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Gorya forgets how to breathe.
“…Don’t,” she whispers.
Shasha doesn’t look away.
“I mean it.”
“Don’t say things like that right now.”
“When else am I supposed to say it?” Shasha asks softly.
Gorya shakes her head.
Frustrated.
Overwhelmed.
“This isn’t fair.”
Shasha’s brows knit slightly.
“How is this not fair?”
“Because you only say things like this when I’m about to leave!” Gorya snaps.
That—
That hits.
Shasha swallows.
“I should’ve said it sooner,” she admits.
“Yes, you should have!” Gorya’s voice cracks. “But you didn’t!”
Silence.
“You didn’t,” she repeats, quieter now.
Shasha lowers her gaze for a moment.
“I didn’t know how,” she says.
Gorya lets out a bitter laugh.
“Of course you didn’t.”
But there’s no real bite in it anymore.
Just—
hurt.
“You don’t get it,” Gorya continues, her voice trembling now. “You don’t understand what it feels like to be with someone like you.”
Shasha looks up again.
Confused.
“Like me?”
“Yes, like you,” Gorya says, finally letting everything spill. “Everyone looks at you like you’re everything.”
Shasha shakes her head slightly.
“That’s not—”
“And when they look at me,” Gorya cuts in, “they don’t see anything special.”
That stops her.
“They see the girl who works behind you,” Gorya continues. “The one fixing your clothes, your hair—making sure you look perfect.”
“Gorya—”
“And I start thinking,” her voice cracks again, “why would someone like you stay with someone like me?”
Silence.
Because that—
That’s the real reason.
Not anger.
Not misunderstanding.
Fear.
“I’m not—” Shasha starts.
“You are,” Gorya interrupts, shaking her head. “You’re out of my league.”
The words fall out like something she’s been holding in for too long.
And suddenly—
Everything makes sense.
Shasha’s chest tightens painfully.
“…Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s not.”
“It is,” Gorya insists. “And one day, you’re going to realize it too.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You will,” Gorya says. “You’ll get bored. You’ll meet someone better. Someone who fits your world.”
Shasha lets out a shaky breath.
“I don’t want someone else.”
“You say that now.”
“I’ve been saying it!” Shasha’s voice rises slightly. “You just don’t listen!”
Gorya flinches.
“Look at me,” Shasha says.
Gorya hesitates.
“…Gorya.”
Slowly—
She does.
And what she sees—
makes her chest ache.
Shasha is still there.
Still on her knees.
Still looking at her like—
like she’s the only thing that matters.
“I’m right here,” Shasha says, softer now. “Not with them. Not with anyone else.”
A pause.
“With you.”
Gorya’s eyes sting.
“You don’t have to give everything up,” she whispers. “I don’t want that.”
“Then what do you want?”
Silence.
Gorya struggles to find the words.
“I just…” she exhales shakily. “I don’t want to feel like I’m temporary.”
That—
That breaks something in Shasha.
“You’re not,” she says immediately.
“But it feels like it,” Gorya admits. “It feels like I’m just… part of your life right now.”
Shasha shakes her head.
“No.”
“Yes,” Gorya insists. “Because you never say anything real until I’m about to walk away.”
Shasha freezes.
Because—
That part is true.
“I’m scared,” Gorya admits quietly.
The words are small.
But they carry everything.
“I’m scared I’ll give everything to you,” she continues, “and one day, you’ll just leave like it meant nothing.”
Shasha’s voice softens.
“I’m still here.”
“For now.”
“I’m not planning to leave.”
“But you didn’t plan to stay either,” Gorya says.
Silence.
That lands.
Shasha swallows.
“…Then I’ll start choosing to stay.”
Gorya looks at her.
“Not just when it’s easy,” Shasha adds. “Not just when you’re about to leave.”
A beat.
“I’ll stay because it’s you.”
Gorya’s lips press together.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not,” Shasha admits. “But I’m not running from it anymore.”
Silence stretches between them.
Gorya’s thoughts are loud.
Messy.
Conflicted.
But when she looks at Shasha—
Still there.
Still waiting.
Still choosing—
Something shifts.
“…You’re an idiot,” Gorya mutters.
Shasha lets out a small breath.
“Yeah.”
“You’re really going to regret this.”
“Probably.”
A pause.
“…But I’ll regret losing you more.”
That—
That does it.
Gorya exhales shakily.
“…Stand up.”
Shasha blinks.
“Please,” Gorya adds, softer this time.
Shasha stands slowly.
They’re close now.
Too close.
But neither of them steps away.
“This doesn’t fix everything,” Gorya says.
“I know.”
“I’m still scared.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still—” she gestures vaguely, “you.”
Shasha smiles faintly.
“Unfortunately.”
That almost makes Gorya laugh.
Almost.
“…But you’re staying?”
Shasha asks.
Gorya hesitates.
Then—
“…I’m trying.”
And now—
That’s enough.