Chapter 9

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Harry called me over to his apartment about a week later to “talk”. What did we have to talk about? Nothing really, we didn’t have anything to worry about, our management set everything up for us instead. There was nothing between Harry and I beside a weak friendship. I sat on the sofa in his living room and waited for him to fess up and start talking.

“What is it, Harry?” I asked, annoyed at the silence. “I swear you can tell me anything.”

He took a deep breath in and stared at me for another second. “I’m not sure how to ask you this.”

If he was about to ask me out or ask me about anything regarding how I felt about him, I was going to flip. We had already gone over this once and I wasn’t really in the mood to repeat anything.

“Are you sick?” He asked.

I furrowed my eyebrow. “No.” I said blankly. I don’t remember the last time I was sick, why would he think that I was sick now.

Harry sighed, looking frustrated. He put his head in his hands and ran his hands through his hair.

“Harry. Just say it. Jesus Christ.” I was beyond frustrated. I was already in a bad mood, and him floating around what he was saying.

He sighed again and looked away from me. “Ainslie, do you have an eating disorder?”

His words knocked me back off of my feet. What? How did he even find out about that. All of us models just pretended we were “naturally skinny”.

I didn’t say anything and stared at the floor as Harry’s eyes finally returned to me, waiting for an answer.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as for the second time within a year, I was having the “eating disorder” talk.

“No.” I said quietly.

Harry pursed his lips together and stared at me again. “Seriously, Ains?” He shook his head, frustrated and started talking louder and louder. “You’re a stick. You’re at a dangerously low weight. I don’t care what your career is. You refuse meals. When was the last time you ate three normal meals in one day?”

Tears started rolling down my face as his tone increased.

“Tell me!” He yelled.

I shrugged. I didn’t know. It had probably been years.

“Stop yelling.” I whispered.

“I want to help you.” He said returning back to his calm and quiet voice.

I shook my head at him. “Harry, I don’t need help.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Ainslie, you need help. If you doing go after help soon, you’re going to die.” He said boring into my eyes. “You’re seriously wasting away right in front of me.”

Tears welled up into my eyes and for the first time in my life, I exploded with everything I was feeling.

“Don’t you think I know that?” I asked loudly. “Do you think that I like doing this to myself? I can’t do anything!” I screamed. “I can’t go out with friends. I can’t go out with you. I put up these stupid fucking walls to keep this sick control that I have to have over my life.”

Harry stared at me wide-eyed. He looked terrified. “Ainslie.” He whispered, taking a step toward me.

“No, Harry, you act like I can just go to the doctor, get a shot and I’ll be cured.” I stood up and walked around a bit. “I understand that you don’t know what this is about, but seriously.”

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