˘ ͙ᵕ˘͈ “LACY,OH LACY”┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

˘ ͙ᵕ˘͈ “LACY,OH LACY”┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

when being a bit too much of a secretive and insecure person lead to your best friend getting what you always wanted since kid,matt sturniolo

•*⁀➷ angst,cursing,mentions of insecurities and self doubt,traumas,mentions of crying,envy,jealousy,etc. (inspired by the song «lacy» by olivia rodrigo ✧*)

!! first language is not english ¡¡ (masterlist,taglist)

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you’ve always been secretive, quiet,never sharing your personal information or preferences with no one. not because you wanted to be, but because the world never felt like it had space for you. your words, your wants, your feelings—they have always seemed like things to be swallowed, locked away. you never speak much.you never ask for too much.

you are the kind of person who lingers in the background, watching rather than stepping forward,observing in silence. it started young—this creeping sense that you were never quite enough. maybe it was the way people overlooked you in conversations, the way your parents never quite celebrated your achievements the way they did for your siblings, the way people always seemed to forget your name until they needed something from you.

you watched girls who were louder, who took up space without apologizing for it. girls who could make a room bend toward them, who didn’t hesitate before speaking, who didn’t second-guess their worth. you watched them and wondered what it felt like to wake up in a body that didn’t feel like something to be ashamed of, to exist without the weight of self-doubt pressing into your ribs.

and yet, deep in the marrow of your bones, you have always wanted him,matt.he is the boy who was once completely attached with you, but now only existing in the deep past,leaving you only with the heavy weight of vividly memories.

he was there in the soft haze of your childhood, in summers spent running through golden fields, in winters where you watched the snow settle in his dark hair, his laughter curling into the air like smoke. he was the first person who ever made you feel something close to special. the first to hold your wrist when you almost tripped, the first to call your name like it actually meant something.

but he was also the first thing she took from you.

your best friend. the girl who never needed to ask for things because the world placed them at her feet. the girl who shined so brightly, so effortlessly, that people mistook her glow for their own warmth. you love her —because how could you not? but love unfortunately does not erase envy,even though you really wish it did.

you compared your face to hers—the shape of her lips, the curve of her nose, the way her eyes caught the light just right. you compared your voice to hers, how easily she spoke, how people listened to her without her needing to beg for their attention. you compared your body, your laughter, your very existence, and every time you did, you came up short.

it all happened quietly and maybe way too fast.you saw the way he would start looking at her all the time, and the part of you that is still a child—still hopeful, still stupid—pretended not to notice. you watched as his laughter becomes softer whenever she would be near, as his hands would find her waist, as she would lean into him like she has a right to.

then one evening,sitting almost peacefully on the hardwood floor of your balcony,she told you that she decided to test out committing a relationship with him—she said it all so simply,so calmly, sickeningly unaware that it shatters you in the most silent way possible.

you forced yourself to remember that she loved you. that you were not an afterthought to her, not something lesser. but love does not make comparison disappear. and comparison was something you carried with you like a second skin,

and now—you try not to see the way he touches her. you try not to hear the way he says her name. you try not to remember what it was like when he still looked at you like you were something to be seen. but trying means nothing when the universe has a cruel sense of humor, placing them in your path at every turn.

she tells you stories about him, as best friends do. how he surprises her with coffee in the mornings. how he texts her goodnight with little inside jokes that make her giggle. how he kissed her in the rain like something out of a dream,

you only could listen,not realizing that you were slowly becoming an echo of your older self,the one who wished to be heard by anyone.

then it also comes the worst part—the guilt.the shame of it,curling around you like a suffocating fog.you weren’t supposed to ache for the person your best friend chose, and he had chosen her.

yet you couldn’t resist your thoughts,wondering what it would be if things were switched,different.if he ever would glance at you again as if you were something sacred,if you were the one someone had reached for instead of just passing by.

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one evening, after too much pretending, you slip away from a party neither of them noticed you at and find yourself by the lake. the moon hangs low, it’s reflection fractured in the water, and you feel like something unraveling,

you swore your heart skipped a few beats when you heard a familiar soothing voice behind you,the one who would send tingles in your body and make you all warm,him.

you don’t remember when exactly you fell for him, it wasn’t sudden, not some grand realization that struck you like lightning. it was slow, torturing, like the tide pulling in, so gradual that by the time you noticed, you were already drowning.

he had a way of making the world feel lighter. he could turn anything into a joke, could tease you without it ever feeling cruel. and you loved that about him. loved the way he never treated you like you were fragile, like you were someone to be handled with careful hands. he made you feel real, solid, like you weren’t just floating through life unseen

but that of course,didn’t last long—cause when she stepped into the light,he followed right behind.

“are you okay?” his voice was practically dripping with kindness and softness,and it only made you feel like you were some sort of a pity,

you honestly didn’t know how you were even supposed to respond to him,the lump in your tight throat suddenly roping like a knot,desiring to basically let your emotions wash over and to cry your heart out.

instead you hollow a smile in the corner of your lips— explaining that you needed some air, and he hesitantly lingered his gaze on you,causing your stomach to flutter pathetically,

“you can go back,i will be there soon” you whispered out,afraid that if your voice was a tiny level louder it would betray your hidden tone of sadness.

he could sense you were yearning for some alone time,so he only nodded,eventually walking and disappearing in the shadows so he can step back inside,where she is waiting for him—like you always have been secretly,even though it wasn’t enough,and the truth is that it will never be.

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ev’ note: colliding olivia with the sturniolo’s cause why the fuck not?😛 by the way i don’t know if it’s painfully obvious that this is my first angst,i hope it doesn’t suck but i can already picture it flopping hard🥹

love youu<3

taglist: @wiidfi0wer33 @chrislova @cutiepaiquill @zainabthescientist @jetaimevous @toysizee @chratts-left-ball @savvyratatouille @bellassturniolo @justexisting12 @mattsbrowser