Independence

Chapter Nineteen

"@ElenaRyan is such a slut"

"Why is @Harry_Styles wasting his time with that ugly bitch?"

"She probably fucked @Real_Liam_Payne first and then moved on to H. Who's next? @NiallOfficial?"

"Those pictures are photoshopped, Halena is fake"

"If she sings one more 1D song I'm going to explode"

"Talk about riding off the back of someone's career #HalenaIsSoFake"

"@ElenaRyan is a gold digging fake ass slut"

"Petition to get @ElenaRyan to stop singing 1D and taking our boys"

I stared at my phone on the plane ride to LA. I hadn't been on Twitter in months, but as soon as I did I realized how stupid Paul had been. The fandom hadn't been this horrible before I started singing their songs and going on fake outings. They might be crazy, but they're not stupid.

"Harry, have you seen this?" I said as I handed him my phone. His eyes shot open and I saw his jaw tense, but he quickly softened and turned to me.

"Are you okay?"

I forced a smile. "Obviously," I laughed, "this doesn't bother me personally. I'm just frustrated that management can't see what's actually good for us."

He breathed a sigh of relief before pecking me on the lips. "You're a keeper, Elle."

"What?" I laughed awkwardly, confused by his comment and stunned by his kiss.

"You do realize that almost every other girl in this world would be extremely upset by this?" He said as he pointed to my phone with a smirk, "but you're smart. You don't go looking for it because you know it's there, but even when you find it you don't let it get to you. You're something..."

"Harry, focus," I interrupted, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. "You do realize what this means right?"

Harry shook his head slowly, trying to read my thoughts before I put them into the poisonous words they were.

"It means I'm fucked."

"But why, Elle? I mean, your album has had more success in the past two months than ever before. I don't see why some Twitter shit is going to change that."

I looked down and shook my head in disbelief. He really didn't know.

"They hate me, Harry. Now they want to tear me down, which means they'll start with my self-esteem and then go for my career. You think I can tour with you forever? Cause when I'm done, I'm done for good. Thank you Paul Higgins for absolutely fucking up my life-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there," Harry said calmly, dragging me out of my miserable daze. I hadn't even noticed the tears leaking down my cheeks until he reached over and brushed them away.

"Babe, you need to let yourself feel," he whispered gently. "You can't keep that all in. This sucks. Admit it, this sucks. But we are on vacation, and we're not going to think about this for another month."

He smiled and kissed my cheek as I stared catatonically at him with a fake smile tugging at my lips. I felt like time was ticking too fast for me. How much longer would I have a job? How much longer until I finally crack?

It was no longer a matter of if this would end, it was when?

***

When we landed in LA we were met by a mob of photographers. I groaned as they began to push each other to get a better view of us leaving the airport.