Destinee Holland

Dose 𝓕ifteen

Added 2025-10-08 15:32:50 +0000 UTC

Dose Fifteen Observations:
Subject is spiraling worse. Noted as mentally and emotionally.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

“Hey guys,” I murmured, approaching Zion and Sarai by the hostess stand with Lia by my side.

They both glanced at me immediately, smiles growing on their faces.

“Libs,” Sarai said first, pulling me into a hug. “This place is so cute,” she said, briefly pulling away.

Then her attention shifted over—toward Lia, who Zion was already looking at.

“Hi,” Sarai spoke first to her. “I’m Sarai,” she said, reaching her hand out.

“Lia,” she spoke, reaching up to shake Sarai’s hand.

“And I’m Zion,” he added, shaking Lia’s hand next.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Lia said, glancing over at me with a subtle smile.

But I could tell she felt a little awkward.

“We should eat,” I suddenly determined, glancing over to the hostess. “We had a reservation under Liberty Fierro.”

The hostess nodded with a respectful smile, glancing down at the bright screen that she tapped on a few times.

“Follow me,” the hostess suddenly said, gathering four glossy menus in her arms.

We didn’t hesitate to follow along behind her, passing through the different people seated at tables, lowly conversing.

My nerves were a little messy, unsure if this would be an awkward dinner.

Now that I’m thinking it through deeper, I’m not sure why I suggested this in the first place.

I thought it would be cool for everyone to meet each other, but now it seems weird.

It’s like two foreign worlds combining.

Still… this is better than a lecture about Monroe.

“So Lia,” Sarai said with a smile as we all got comfortable in the cushioned velvet seats. “Libs mentioned that you’re new to Seattle?”

Lia nodded as she picked up her menu. “Yes, the city has been nice to explore.”

“Where did you move from?” Zion curiously asked.

“I moved around a lot the last few years,” Lia said, blinking a few times as she focused on her menu.

“Even growing up?” Zion said, making me shake my head at his nosiness.

“Oh-oh, are you a military brat?” Sarai joked, opening her menu on the table.

“No, she’s from the East Coast,” I suddenly said, remembering Lia had told me that.

“Where on the East Coast?” Zion just had to ask.

Lia seemed to be shy with answers.

I think she’s just more introverted, and here are my friends throwing question after question after her.

“Guys, stop pestering her,” I scolded them, giving them both a narrowed look.

Sarai held her hands up in defense. “I’m not pestering—Zi’s the nosy one.”

“It’s a simple question,” Zion pointed out, and somehow we all glanced back to Lia.

“Sorry,” I whispered, even if I guess it was a simple question.

Lia just doesn’t seem like the type to share stuff with people she met just minutes ago.

I mean, even I barely know anything about her.

“Well, actually,” I suddenly said, blinking a few times. “Where did you grow up on the East Coast?” I decided to ask, now realizing—

I know nothing about her.

“New York,” Lia answered, lowering her menu with a small smile.

“So you’re into traveling?” Zion asked as the waiter came over with the water pitcher.

“Hm?” Lia asked with furrowed brows as the waiter began pouring us all glasses of water to get started.

“You said you moved around a lot,” Zion clarified, briefly telling the waiter thank you.

“Oh, yes, I suppose I like traveling,” Lia murmured, smiling politely at the waiter as he filled her cup with water.

“Well, we’ve all lived in Seattle for the last few years,” Sarai suddenly said. “Zion is from California, though, and I’m from Arizona.”

“That’s really cool,” Lia said, earning a few nods from me.

“Right? I have yet to visit Arizona,” I murmured as the waiter finished filling my glass next.

“My mom loves you. You know you’re welcome to join me anytime,” Sarai reminded me, making me smile slightly.

“You’re so lucky that your mom is like your sister. Must be nice,” I dramatically sighed.

“Speaking of,” Zion suddenly said, and I knew exactly where he was going with this.

“No, I haven’t texted her back,” I quickly said.

My mother had texted me the first week I got to Seattle about keeping her updated, and I never answered.

Mostly, because the update is that I work for Monroe.

I’ve been avoiding speaking to my mother altogether for that exact reason, but technically, she hasn’t texted again.

She called once last week, but my phone was on Do Not Disturb.

That was a good excuse if she brought it up.

This week, there’s been nothing, luckily.

I know I have to answer her eventually, just not right now.

There’s already enough on my plate.

“My mother isn’t like my sister,” I suddenly clarified to Lia, realizing she was a little in the dark. “So I haven’t checked in with her since I moved back to Seattle.”

“I get that,” Lia said, smiling slightly. “Mine can be really overbearing. It was hard convincing them to let me live in Seattle. They even had terms.”

I tilted my head curiously, “Terms?”

Lia waved it off. “Nothing worth sharing,” she murmured, her blue eyes drifting right back down to the menu. “The lasagna sounds delicious, right?”

I nodded.

So did Zion and Sarai.

But I could tell Zion was skeptical by the way his brows were furrowed.

Sarai seemed to be in her own world, now focusing on the menu like Lia, while Zion and I held each other's stare.

She’s weird—Zion mouthed to me.

I shot him a narrowed look.

She’s shy—I mouthed back.

We both glanced back down at our menus when Lia glanced up, making us awkwardly clear our throats.

The table was silent after that.

At least until the waiter came back over and we were all able to order our food.

“So what do you do for work, Lia?” Sarai asked as she sipped on her water.

“Uh, nothing right now,” Lia said, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. “My parents have been handling my finances. I’m very thankful, of course.”

Zion nodded. “We get it, honestly.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been there,” I murmured, pursing my lips awkwardly. “I even let someone else take care of my finances for a few months, but that didn’t work out, and now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Zion mumbled with a look that I knew was targeted at the mention of Monroe.

“Oh, so you had like a sugar daddy or something?” Lia asked with a tilted look.

“Sugar mommy,” Sarai jokingly corrected her, making me chuckle.

“Oh, nice,” Lia murmured, making my smile grow.

“Yeah, I’m only into women, so no sugar daddies over here,” I added, shaking my head a few times.

“Me too,” Lia said, making me freeze momentarily.

I don’t know… I guess I just never got that vibe from her.

Or maybe she’s been too quiet to tell in the first place?

I always get a vibe.

“But yeah,” I suddenly said, reaching for my glass of water. “It was my ex-girlfriend, so it wasn’t like that anyway.”

Zion only hummed lowly while Sarai pursed her lips into an awkward smile.

“I’m sensing something here,” Lia said, motioning her manicured finger between us three.

I quickly shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just ex stuff,” I said, not wanting to completely trauma dump on her.

“You went back to her?” Lia asked, her blue eyes completely fixated on me.

I don’t know if it was the lighting or what, but the look on her face made everything inside of me tense.

“No,” I quickly said. “Just old stuff being dredged up.”

“We’re trying to keep it buried,” Zion joked, earning a few nods from Sarai.

“She deserves better,” Sarai added with her usual smile.

Lia nodded once. “We’ve all been there,” she murmured, and I could feel her stare still burning into the side of my face. “Glad you aren’t going back to her.”

“Me too,” I murmured, trying not to think of what Kaia said.

Or the possibility that Monroe didn’t forget my birthday.

That she might’ve sent all those gifts.

I drew in a deep breath as soon as that bathroom flashed in my head, how she felt, the warmth of her leaning into me.

Even the sounds that she made.

It can’t happen again.

I quickly glanced over, noticing the waiter stopping by our table with plates of steaming pasta.

But suddenly, I wasn’t hungry.

Not with her still occupying my mind, whether I fucking liked it or not.

I took a few small bites of my food, not trying to make it obvious that my appetite had diminished.

Along with my social battery.

I barely said anything the rest of the dinner, but luckily, Zion and Sarai seemed to be making all the conversation anyway.

I had never been happier to go home—even if it meant waking up tomorrow and heading to Levane.

Still, I got unready and cuddled with Jynx as promised, falling asleep as I petted her soft fur.

Monroe was still on my mind the next fucking morning.

The same thing, actually.

My birthday.

Those gifts.

It really didn’t matter if she was behind them.

Or maybe it did, and that’s why I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

As I got dressed in a pair of dress pants and an intricately tied blouse, I determined I might actually speak to her about it.

It was a brief thought.

And I shut it down as soon as I got into the car.

But then, as I was entering Levane, I contemplated it more seriously.

It made my stomach tie in knots, mostly because it wasn’t just an idea anymore.

I genuinely thought about doing it.

As usual, there was breakfast waiting on my desk for me with a sticky note from Eliza, which made me smile and text her for the hundredth time, it felt like.

I ate and worked, anticipating when Monroe would walk past.

She never did.

I assumed maybe by the end of the day, she would.

But no.

There was nothing.

I refused to walk to the end of that hallway and ask Sienna to speak with her, so I just remained in my chair the rest of the day, determining I wouldn’t mention the birthday gifts.

Even if it was still on my mind the next day.

But still—

I didn’t see a glimpse of Monroe on Wednesday either.

It was such an odd feeling.

The excitement turned to disappointment.

I just wanted to discuss this birthday thing.

That’s all.

Otherwise, she can continue hiding away wherever she is.

On Thursday, I had finally had enough.

I woke up a lot earlier that morning, planning to get to Levane at seven instead of eight thirty.

I remembered that conversation with Briggszilla and Dr. Wexler in the elevator—how Monroe was in at six-thirty.

I honestly couldn’t even believe I had gotten up early for this, let alone going out of my way to talk to her about it.

But she needs to know that I know.

And she also needs to know that she can’t do things like that.

I honestly want to give all the gifts back to her.

“I’m going to speak with Dr. Leclair really fast,” I said to Sienna, briefly passing by her without a second thought toward the double doors.

“Dr. Leclair isn’t in,” Sienna’s voice suddenly echoed, making me halt in place.

I stood there for a few seconds.

Then I turned around with a skeptical look.

“Did she tell you to say that?” I asked, walking closer to Sienna’s desk.

I knew it was stupid.

It was a stupid fucking question.

If she did tell Sienna to say that, then I should just leave it alone.

“No,” Sienna said, tilting her head slightly. “Dr. Leclair hasn’t been in since Monday.”

I was silent.

For seconds on end.

I even tried to part my lips, but nothing came out.

I just walked past Sienna’s desk, my brows furrowed together as I processed her words.

Monroe hasn’t been in since Monday.

I guess that makes sense why I haven’t seen her.

She’s probably sick or something.

Or—

I quickly shook my head, refusing to draw any further conclusions.

Why she isn’t here doesn’t involve me.

But what if it does?

What if it’s after what happened in the bathroom and—

I let out a deep sigh, squeezing my hands into fists by my side as I walked.

I counted to ten.

Then I counted backwards to one, trying to regulate myself again.

But all I could do was think about that bathroom, and not like I originally was.

No.

It was no longer about how wet she was or her soft moans.

Now, I was thinking about our conversation.

How I left the bathroom before she could say anything else.

She wasn’t seen for hours after that, at least not walking past the tech division that day.

Maybe she just went for food?

Or maybe she was in that bathroom the whole time.

I inhaled even deeper, focusing on counting again.

This time to fifteen and then back to one.

I squeezed my hands tighter, trying to remain grounded.

She hurt me.

She broke me.

And she chose to do it all.

She had the option to tell the truth.

I gave her so many times that night.

I even stayed in Seattle until I couldn’t anymore.

Still—

There was nothing from her.

“What are you doing?” I asked as soon as I walked into the tech division, noticing a random woman by my desk.

The redhead had on a collared shirt with a calf-length skirt, her hair tied back, and glasses on her face.

But most importantly, she had a container of food in her hand with a green sticky note in her other.

“Uh,” the woman breathed out, her dark eyes wide.

I walked closer.

“Have you been leaving these the entire time?” I asked, glancing down at the container. “I thought it was Eliza?”

“Yes-uh it was, but she asked me to leave it this time,” the redhead said with a forced smile.

She was lying.

It was so obvious that she was lying.

“You’ve been leaving these the entire time, haven’t you?” I asked, not bothering to give in to her lie.

The redhead pursed her lips together.

She was silent, letting the seconds tick past, but I didn’t care.

I would wait here until I got the truth from her.

“Yes,” she suddenly sighed out. “I’m not weird or trespassing. I swear. I actually work in acquisitions here, but this guaranteed a pay boost, and it was too easy to pass u—”

“Dr. Leclair asked you to do this?” I suddenly cut her short, my dark eyes narrowing at her.

The idea alone made my face burn up.

And suddenly, my thoughts were spiraling even worse.

“Yes,” the redhead said, setting the breakfast container down. “Enjoy?” she hesitantly said with a forced smile.

I blinked a few times as she rushed past me, staring at the container sitting on my desk.

My stomach twisted, realizing I had been eating that breakfast for the last few days.

Her breakfast.

She sent that for me to eat.

I wanted to throw it away.

But that would be wasteful, so I did the next best thing.

I set it on Grayson’s desk instead and attached a newly written sticky note.

You said to suck up to my manager:)
-Chipper

My stomach was still twisted in nauseous knots as I sat down at my desk, determined to start on my work early.

But she clung to my thoughts like dried hot glue, and there was no washing her away.

I wanted to fucking confront her.

I wanted to tell her that she can’t do things like that.

My ears fucking burned all morning over it, even if Grayson seemed extra happy.

And Zion brought me a pumpkin latte.

I had to suck up my bad mood in front of Zion after the talk we all had on Tuesday night.

It was the same thing.

You deserve better—remember how far you’ve come.

It was a good reminder.

One that I tried to remember throughout the day, fighting the urge to unblock a specific number and text it.

I fought it all fucking day.

All the way up until I made it home.

I distracted myself with dinner and even cuddling with Jynx…

But fuck, did she weigh down my mind.

I went to her contact, staring at it for seconds on end, trying to decide whether I should or not.

Half my thoughts screamed against it, and the other half encouraged me.

Then I clicked the screen, specifically the edit button.

I needed to change her contact back to Monroe to start with.

Then…

I unblocked her.

I went to draft up a text, but suddenly I didn’t know what to say or how to word it.

Then I had the idea to call her.

And that’s when I knew I was far gone.

I was really fucking far gone.

I dropped my phone on the bed, standing from it immediately.

I decided I needed a glass of wine to take the edge off.

I also wanted a snack.

I could watch a movie.

That was a good idea.

I focused on that—grabbing myself the box of Cheez-Itz from the cabinet and pouring a glass of red wine.

Then I sat on my couch as Jynx cuddled up on my lap.

I put on a random movie—Scooby Doo was what I decided on.

I snacked on my Cheez-Itz and sipped my wine contentedly, slowly forgetting about Monroe and her number that I unblocked.

But after about three glasses of wine, my thoughts were suddenly pinned right back on her.

And at that point, I didn’t particularly care anymore.

I stood from the couch to go grab my phone from my bed, sitting down on the soft mattress due to my head that buzzed from all the wine.

“Fuck,” I whispered as soon as the line began ringing, realizing that I was actually calling her.

My brain had caught up with my actions, and suddenly it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

That’s how much of a wreck my nerves were.

“Liberty?”

I blinked a few times, processing her soft voice that echoed from my phone.

I called her.

I actually just called her.

“Liberty,” she spoke again when I didn’t answer.

I forced a hum, suddenly unable to get any words out.

What did I call her for again?

Fuck, I’m going to regret this in the morning.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her familiar voice as calm as usual.

No.

No, everything is not okay because—

The food.

Yes.

And the gifts.

That’s what it was.

“You’ve… been leaving breakfast for me,” I finally spoke. “You’ve-been having Eliza lie to me every morning over fucking breakfast? Are you insane?”

“Have you been drinking?” Monroe suddenly asked.

I rolled my eyes.

I think.

I’m not sure.

My head just feels like it’s vibrating.

“As if that… matters right now,” I pointed out, my words spaced out whether I liked it or not. “You’re insane.”

“Where are you?” she suddenly asked.

“Home—and you’re not invited,” I breathed out, falling onto the bed with a deep sigh. “First… birthday gifts. Now breakfast. You have to stop.”

“Birthday gifts,” Monroe calmly emphasized the two words.

“I know you-sent them,” I said, my words slurred together as I stared at the ceiling with furrowed brows.

“Okay,” was all she said in response.

It made my brows furrow deeper.

“Okay?” I asked, blinking a few times.

“I’m not going to apologize for sending you gifts on your birthday. A day for celebrating your existence, Liberty,” Monroe said, making my face annoyingly burn up. “And I won’t be apologizing for ensuring you have something on your stomach to start your day.”

“But it’s not up to you,” I groaned, pressing my hand to my face. “You don’t get to do things-like this anymore.”

“Is there water near you?” she asked, going completely off topic.

It made me roll my eyes.

“Monroe,” I said, my voice coated in irritation.

“Go get water,” was all she said, earning a deep sigh from me. “I’ll discuss this with you if you drink water.”

“And if I don’t?” I purposely asked.

“I’ll call your friends,” Monroe calmly determined.

My eyes widened at her words.

“You can’t,” I quickly said, lying up from the bed. “They-hate you a lot.”

“Go get water, Liberty,” she repeated again, earning a deep sigh from me.

“Fine,” I mumbled, knowing better than to call her bluff.

The last thing I need is Monroe reaching out to Zion or Sarai.

“You can’t leave breakfast for me anymore—no more gifts,” I quickly negotiated, my feet hitting the cold floor.

“Agreed,” was all Monroe said, earning a nod from me as I walked out of my bedroom toward the kitchen.

“You haven’t… been there,” I suddenly breathed out.

“There?” she emphasized.

“Levane,” I mumbled, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “You-haven’t been there.”

“I know,” she murmured, not providing any sort of explanation.

It made me roll my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Why?” I asked, cradling my phone between my ear and shoulder as I twisted the cap off the water bottle.

“Why are you drinking on a Thursday night?” Monroe asked back, earning a dramatic sigh from me.

“Because I want to,” I said, my tone completely bratty with her.

“Why do you want to, Liberty?” she calmly said, entirely unbothered by my attitude.

“It’s Thirsty Thursday,” I decided to say, chuckling at how hilarious that sounded.

Then somehow—my chuckles turned into full-on laughter.

“Thirsty Thursday,” I repeated, laughing even harder. “You-do know what that is?”

“I’m well aware, Liberty,” Monroe said as more laughs escaped my lips.

“But you’re not laughing,” I forced out breathlessly.

“Perhaps I’m too focused on why you’re partaking in Thirsty Thursday,” Monroe said, making my laughter grow even more.

“You just—you said Thirsty Thursday,” I chuckled, squeezing my teary eyes closed.

“Thirsty Thursday,” Monroe repeated, and I swear it sounded so foreign coming from her.

“Stop,” I laughed harder. “You’re not helping.”

I heard her hum in amusement, and I wondered if she was smiling right now.

If she was holding back a laugh, too.

“Water, Liberty,” she reminded me, causing me to resume my focus on the water bottle.

Even if small chuckles kept spilling from my lips.

She was silent for a few moments as I tried my best to drink water and focus.

But I could only hear her saying Thirsty Thursday in my head, and it was somehow the most hilarious thing right now.

“Don’t come into work tomorrow,” Monroe’s voice suddenly echoed from my phone speaker.

“I have to—Briggszilla will… be mad,” I rushed out, setting the water bottle down.

“Briggszilla?” Monroe murmured, and I could hear her softly chuckle.

I could also see the familiar smile on her lips, basking in the laugh I got from her.

Fuck, why did I just say that?

Briggszilla is a nickname only Zion and I use.

“Uh-nothing,” I quickly whispered.

“Right,” Monroe didn’t hesitate to agree with me, drawing in a breath—probably to hold back any further laughter. “Well, I’ll email Briggszilla. You’re not coming in tomorrow.”

I pursed my lips tightly together, trying my best not to laugh at the nickname she willingly used for Kara.

All I could say was—

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Monroe emphasized.

I hummed. “Okay,” I whispered, my lips twitching up with the urge to laugh again.

I can't believe she just called her Briggszilla.

“Get some rest,” Monroe said, making my brows furrow.

“But you said we… could discuss this if I drank water,” I pointed out, setting the half-empty water bottle down.

“I didn’t say when,” Monroe smoothly countered. “Call me when you're sober, Liberty.”

“You’re-so lame,” I groaned dramatically.

“Good night, Liberty,” Monroe said, making me roll my eyes.

“Whatever,” I mumbled, grabbing the phone so I could end the call.