117 GRIEF

The aura in the room was stiff. The breeze through the open windows was stale and smelt like dashed hopes. The beautiful sun rays would have been perfect if it didn't feel like hot oil splashed on the skin. It could be nature getting wonky again or simply Ethan and Madison pulling apart like a dress bursting through its seams or more like a ruined Velcro strip refusing to stick back. A few days ago, they made top headlines as the 'couple of the year' oblivious to what destiny had in store for them. They graced the red-carpet side by side, with Luke and Isabella walking close by. They were inseparable, or maybe they were, as they say, on opposite sides of the queen-sized bed, staring into space, each couple waiting for the other to pick up the conversation where it was left. Their mouths were too heavy to say anything, not even to Luke and Isabella, who spent hours comforting them. A cool breeze blew in again, but it felt like hot volcano lava spilling into the room; the atmosph