Flight risk. [h.s]

024.

★

Today is officially the last day of filming for Don't Worry Darling.

Harry and I have one final scene to shoot and then we are wrapped for the whole thing. Which means, I just have to survive Jonathan for one more day before I can finally end things with him and be happy.

I have to get through today and then get through the wrap party at his house tonight and then I am done.

I'm done with him and I am done with constantly feeling inadequate.

"I can't believe today is the last day." Paige huffs.

She's been in a mood all morning but I can't work out what is wrong with her.

"Yeah, I know but your dad is bringing you to the party tonight, right?"

She shakes her head and purses her lips. "No. He says I'm not allowed to go because I'm not old enough,"

"Aren't you nineteen?"

"Yep," She grumbles, rolling the tube of lipstick back and forth on the vanity without looking up at me.

Watching the side of her face, I notice how pale she looks. Squinting my eyes I take account of the thin film of clamminess that lines her forehead. Her under eyes are red and tired looking and I sigh at the sight of it.

"Paige?"

"Arlie?" She grumbles back, the same snappy tone that she's taken with me all morning.

"Are you okay?" I question.

Her eyes snap up to mine, a tad bloodshot and sunken into her skull. Narrowing my own, I stare at her and try to assess what the hell is going on with her. The chipper girl who has always been so vibrant and bubbly is now acting like sour milk.

"I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine..." I dismiss, sneaking closer to take a closer look.

The pallor of her skin is sickly with no colour flushing her cheeks. Her hair lacks any kind of shine or slickness like usual. In fact, it looks dry and lifeless as it hangs limply around her face.

"Paige, you know you can tell me, right? Is something going on that you're not–"

"I'm fine!" She grits through her teeth, snapping once again.

The short fuse and the state of her makes me think that maybe she is getting sick. Especially when small drops of sweat start to bead on her forehead.

"You're-"

"Arlie, I'm fine. Leave me alone. God!"

With that final bitter hiss of dismissal, Paige gets up from the chair tucked under my vanity and storms from my trailer without another word on the matter. I watch her leave, more stunned by the aggression in her voice than anything as she runs off with a grunt thick in the back of her throat.