Chapter 79: Chapter 79 Alone in the Crowd (3)
"Hey... hey!" the girl in the green dress called out, her voice shaking now as she crouched beside Isabella and gently shook her shoulder. At first, she thought Isabella was just being dramatic but then she saw her face.
Isabella’s eyes were shut, her skin had gone unusually pale, and her chest wasn’t rising.
"Wait—she’s not breathing," the girl whispered, panic rising in her voice.
The laughter stopped.
The music still played faintly in the background, but the mood shifted like ice cracking underfoot.
"What do you mean she’s not breathing?" someone asked, stepping closer.
"I said she’s not—she’s—" the girl stuttered, pressing her fingers against Isabella’s neck in a clumsy attempt to check her pulse. "SOMEONE CALL HIM—CALL LEO!!"
Her shout made several heads turn. Alexa froze, the smug look wiped clean off her face. Zion stood up from his seats, expressions hardening, while Casper tossed aside his drink and ran over.
"Isabella??" Casper shook her lightly, then harder. Her body didn’t respond.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GIVE HER TO DRINK?" Zion barked, glaring at the guy who’d handed Isabella the glass. The guy’s face turned pale.
"I-It was just a joke! I didn’t know she’d—"
"IDIOT!" Alan snapped. "She’s not like us—she’s a kid! She doesn’t drink!"
Zion pulled out his phone, already dialing.
"Ewww..." Isabella mumbled, her face scrunching in disgust as she weakly pushed away the girl in green.
The girl stared at her, stunned, blinking as if she’d just seen a ghost come back to life.
"Wait—you’re... awake?" she whispered, still crouched beside her.
Isabella didn’t answer. She rubbed her eyes with both hands like a sleepy child, her body swaying slightly. She looked like someone waking up from a nightmare—dazed, confused, and still dizzy.
Her steps wobbled as she tried to stand, and she blinked hard, trying to make sense of the spinning room. Her lips parted slightly, breath shaky, and her forehead damp with cold sweat. The laughter from earlier had died completely—now replaced by tense silence and wide-eyed stares.
"What the hell...?" someone muttered.
"She actually fainted for a second," the girl in yellow whispered, standing a little farther back.
Isabella looked around at the unfamiliar faces, her gaze cloudy. Her hand instinctively went to her throat where it still burned faintly.
Isabella tried to walk, but her steps wobbled, her legs weak and her body swaying like a paper doll. She reached for the nearest wall to steady herself, eyes blinking slowly, as if she couldn’t fully see.
Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed with confusion, and a small childlike frown formed on her lips. "I... I don’t like that juice... it tasted bitter... I want my cookies," she mumbled in a soft, trembling voice, clearly not understanding where she was.
The room had blurred into a mess of light and color, and her arms stretched out as if searching for something safe. "Berry... Moonbeam... where are you...?" she whispered, naming her stuffed toys as if they could comfort her. She stumbled again and let out a soft cry.
"My head feels like cloud..." Her soft mumbling, mixed with tearful confusion, made a few hearts ache but not all. A wave of disgust flashed across Alexa’s face. She folded her arms and scoffed under her breath, "Ugh. Look at her—acting like a baby."
Another girl wrinkled her nose and muttered, "Is this what Leo’s into?"
Isabella, unaware of their glances with tears hanging at the corners of her lashes. "I’m sorry..." she whispered to no one in particular, her voice cracking. "I’ll be good... I didn’t mean to be bad..." Her knees gave out, and she sank slowly to the floor, sitting like a child too exhausted to keep pretending.
Everyone stared in awkward silence. Not one of them stepped forward to help.
"Hey hey... wake up already! You just took a sip—you can’t pretend like you’re drunk," the girl in the red dress said sharply, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she eyed Isabella on the floor.
Her voice was loud and full of mockery. "I drank three glasses, and I’m fine. What is this? Kindergarten?"
Some of the others chuckled, muttering things like "pathetic" and "drama queen" under their breath. But Isabella, who was still curled on the floor like a tired child, slowly looked up.
Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, cheeks still flushed, but her lips parted slightly as she whispered in a trembling voice, "I... I don’t know how to drink... no one taught me..." Her voice cracked at the end, like a balloon deflating, and she hugged her arms around herself tighter.
"I thought it was water..." she added softly, staring at the empty space. "I don’t feel good... my head is dizzy... is that normal...?" Her voice was so gentle and lost that it made the laughter fade for a brief second.
But then the red-dressed girl rolled her eyes. "You’ve gotta be kidding me," she said, folding her arms. "She can’t even handle a sip? She’s just playing the victim for sympathy."
Alexa smirked quietly from the corner but didn’t say anything.
Isabella blinked slowly, her long lashes heavy with unshed tears, and she softly mumbled, "My head hurts... I just want to go home..." Her voice wasn’t for anyone, it sounded like she was talking to herself.
"Grandma used to say I should stay away from strangers... but everyone here is a stranger..." Her words drifted off like feathers in the wind. She didn’t know she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips.
She wasn’t trying to get attention. She just didn’t know how to be strong like they were.
"Stop making fun of her," Alan said firmly, his voice rising above the murmurs and laughter in the room. He had had enough of Alexa. He had turned a blind eye for too long, letting her whisper her petty comments, watching her fake smiles and backhanded compliments. He knew she was jealous of Isabella, though she’d never admit it. He let her do whatever she wanted because he thought it would pass. But now, it was enough.
Alexa whipped around, her expression twisted. "Alan... I— You know she’s a white lotus! She doesn’t deserve Leo!" she shouted, her voice cracking with frustration.