Raya is different from the typical 17-year-old with lots of friends and a social life. She's been dealing with schizophrenia since she was young, feeling like an outsider, especially in high school where she only has two friends and a close host fam...
"No, but you're just too lucky to have me, Zy," I teased, flipping my long braids over my shoulder. Zyran chuckled from his spot on the bed, arms crossed.
"Lucky, huh? You woke me up at 4 am because you wanted to cuddle, and thanks to you, I couldn't sleep anymore," he remarked, tilting his head. I shrugged. "I did warn you about my clingy personality, didn't I?"
Playfully rolling his eyes, he suggested, "Wanna go for a walk?" and I nodded, smiling.
******
"Ooh! Look at this one!" I squealed, picking up yet another shell. My basket was filling up rapidly with the beautiful variety of shells I had found.
"It's so pretty," I gasped.
"I'm prettier," he replied, his tone cocky. I gritted my teeth, to which he laughed before wrapping his arms around me from behind and peppering me with kisses, causing me to giggle. "Okay, okay, you're prettier. So much prettier," I said through laughs.
"Thank you," he grinned.
We strolled along the beach in the rainy weather, the scenery breathtaking.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I thought living in LA was like living in paradise, but Malibu hits different," Zyran said as he gazed out over the beach.
"Yeah. Malibu is the place that sparked my love for the beach," I replied dreamily. He stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck and softly kissing my cheek. "Santa Monica will forever be my favorite because that's where I fell in love...with you."
I turned around in his arms, looking up at him. "I love you so much, I hope you know that," I said sincerely. He smiled down at me, kissing me gently. "I do, and I love you too."
We shared another kiss before continuing our walk, discussing everything and nothing.
******
"Zyran! Hurry up!"
I settled into the living room with a bowl of popcorn, eagerly awaiting his arrival so we could watch Camp Rock.
Earlier today, I stumbled upon the CD in my room and since he had never seen it, it felt like the perfect timing.
"Okay, I'm here," he exclaimed, bounding over the couch and landing next to me with a hug. I turned on the TV, but I instantly regretted it.
"Yes, Dylan, reports have been filed with multiple police stations across different states regarding the disappearance of 17-year-old Raya Kelly, who has been missing for a week and a half now. Authorities have indicated that she suffers from schizophrenia, a mental disorder that may lead her to engage in actions of which she may not be fully conscious. If you have any information about Raya Kelly, please contact the number displayed on your screen. Back to sp—"
I immediately turned off the TV.
My body began to tremble at the sound of my name being mentioned on TV. I felt sick to my stomach, devastated, betrayed, and hurt. I couldn't believe my family would make my disappearance so public. It was already hard enough seeing my face all over LA, but now it was on national TV, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Silence engulfed the room, and I teetered on the edge of tears.
Everyone had seen my picture, everyone knew who I was, everyone knew I was sick and crazy.
I rose from my seat and hurriedly closed all the windows, drawing the long curtains shut. I must have looked frantic, unhinged, but the fear of anyone catching sight of me overwhelmed me.
My idyllic life with Zyran could end any minute and I wasn't willing to take the risk.
"Ray, Ray, come on," Zyran implored, approaching me from behind and attempting to pull me away. But I resisted, pushing him back. "You gotta let me do this," I pleaded through tears.
He enveloped me in his arms as I sank to my knees. Zyran gently tilted my chin up to meet his eyes, his eyes the most beautiful in the world.
"I know you're scared, I know. Nobody knows where we are, at least not yet. But we have each other, and I'll always be here to protect you," he reassured me.
Unable to form coherent thoughts, I simply rested my head against his chest, finding solace in his presence.
After a while, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, boosted by Zyran's unwavering support. I rose to my feet, and he followed suit.
"Let's watch the movie," I suggested, finding comfort in the mundane act of simply being together.
******
"Why's he holding his guitar so low? And why is he bending his knees like that?" Zyran remarked, pointing at Nick Jonas.
"Hey, don't criticize him," I defended. "I'm surprised he can even reach the damn strings." Zyran chuckled, and I couldn't help but laugh along with him.
"He's just really feeling the song, leave him alone," I said, playfully nudging him with my elbow. "I bet you had a huge crush on him, that's why you're defending him," he teased, rubbing his nose against my cheek.
"Maybe I did, so what?" I teased back, and he smirked. "Then I'm questioning if I'm really good-looking, because if you think him and I are hot..."
"Nick is hot," I defended, and he tilted his head. "He really isn't."
I rolled my eyes at him and focused back on the movie.
A few minutes later, he released a loud sigh.
Before I could even process what was happening, he pinned me to the sofa and began kissing me passionately. Lost in the moment, I wrapped my arms around his neck, surrendering to his touch.
"Zyran... let's watch the movie first," I moaned as he roamed his hands all over my body. "Please, baby. Just a quickie," he pleaded.
"But... it's almost over," I protested weakly. He trailed wet kisses along my neck and cleavage before pulling himself up to meet my gaze. "Let's just make love until the movie ends. Please," he pleaded.
His whiny tone stirred something within me.
I succumbed to his pleas and allowed him to take control, giving in to his desires until the movie concluded.
