Holly Peterson skyrocketed to fame by simply sitting in her worn-out car, recording her candid thoughts, and sharing them online. Success came swiftly, propelling her into the spotlight and into a whirlwind romance with a fellow celebrity-a high-pro...
"I said, it's not your fault. I know you're looking at this like it's the worst case scenario, but we can work this out," he tells me, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.
"No, we can't. I can't have feelings for him, George. I can't get mixed up in this shit again. Firstly, he's my friend, secondly, we share an entire friend group, oh — and thirdly! He's one of the biggest influencers in the country. I'm absolutely not going there. Not again," I say stubbornly, the conversation causing a slight prickling in my eyes, tears threatening to spill.
"When did you realise?" He asks, changing the conversation, which thankfully delays the onset of my tears.
I shrug my shoulders. "Properly? When I came home drenched on Thursday," I tell him. I'd gotten home after returning from Epping Forest, feeling nauseous and anxious. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I'd spent the entire evening thinking about Harry, about how he'd compared me to the rain, about the blanket.
When I'd woken up the next morning, it had hit me, square in the chest, and my coping mechanisms worked overtime, and I'd turned into a recluse without even meaning to.
"Properly? What does that mean," he asks earnestly, edging a little closer on the bed.
"I think it's been coming for a while, I've just been in denial. I just — I don't know. This is all so messed up. I don't want to have feelings for him. I can't have feelings for him George," I repeat myself, and this time, a tear slips down my cheek.
"Hey," he says warmly, now shifting his position to come and sit beside me, his back against my headrest. His arm wraps around my shoulder, and just holds me. Just like back then. "You're working yourself up, and you're gonna end up hyperventilating, so maybe just breathe?" He laughs, trying to lighten the mood a little, which he does.
"I've got to go to Rome with him in just over two weeks," I mumble into him.
"I know," is his response. "But it'll be okay. Everything will be okay."
"You don't know that," I counter, squeezing my eyes shut.
"Maybe not. But I know you, and there's not one situation you can't deal with," he says, comforting me. "You have two options, in my mind. Option one, probably the least favourable, is to tell Harry the truth. The second, which you're more likely to do, is to ignore whatever feelings you may have towards Harry, and try and move past it. For the record — I do not encourage hiding feelings, but —"
"But you know what I'm like?" I finish, and we share a smile.
"Yeah," he says sadly. "But I was more going to say I know what you've been through."
"I can't tell him. Firstly, he probably doesn't even like me back and I'm worrying over nothing, and secondly, I can get over it. I can get over it, right?" I ask, wanting confirmation from someone else.
He doesn't answer straight away, which is slightly terrifying. "I think you can do anything you put your mind to."
"Okay."
"But Holly? Stop hiding yourself away. You have a village of people who care about you — everyone in this flat included, and you worried us. I don't like that you've been panicking over this for a few days by yourself."
I nod, feeling slightly guilty. "I know. It's just...it's a habit, and it's hard to get out of. I don't know if I'll ever get out of it," I admit truthfully.
"You will, eventually. That's a promise," he says quietly, and just continues to hold me. "I don't want to stir the pot, or make you feel bad, but — I think he'd appreciate a message. Or maybe a call," George says, sounding hesitant to even bring it up.
"Who? Harry?" I ask, peeking back up.
He nods his head. "He came round yesterday because he was worried. You weren't replying to any of his messages," he explains. "I...I kinda had a feeling that something was going on so I covered for you, but I don't want to lie to a friend again," he explains, and now I feel even more guilty.
"I — thank you. I'm sorry you had to cover for me," I apologise, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
"It's fine, and I do get it now that you told me about it."
"I'll, uh, I'll call him now," I say, reaching for my phone, as George climbs out of my bed. "George?"
"Mhm?"
"Please don't tell anyone about this. Not even —"
"Lips are sealed. I promise," he tells me, giving me one last smile before leaving my room.
I stared at my phone, looking at Harry's number on my screen.
My chest felt considerably lighter now that I had told George. Now that those thoughts weren't just circling my brain, it felt as if some light had been shedded onto the situation. It still meant that it was a shit situation, but I knew I wasn't alone now, and that was important.
I pressed on his contact, and it rang for barely a second before he'd answered.
"Holly? You feeling better?" He asks, and I'm immediately confused, before remembering that George had covered for me, presumably that I was ill.
"Hiya, uh — yeah, thanks. Feeling a lot better," I lie, and it feels like my mouth is on fire, I feel so guilty for lying. To him.
"Good. Migraine's are fucking awful, I don't blame you for binning your phone off," he laughs on the other end, and it makes me want to cry. He was so innocent, so unaware, so —
"Yeah, it was shit. George said you came round, though. I'm sorry I worried you," I apologised, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible.
"Uh — yeah. I think I might have overreacted, but you're usually so good at replying to messages! I just didn't know if something had happened, or if you were having a bad day, so...yeah, well. You get the point," he laughs.
"Yeah, well, I'm alright now. Just thought I'd let you know, but uh — I have to go and...make dinner," I lie, wanting the conversation to end so I could stop faking everything. I hated it. Every second.
"Oh, right, okay. I'll see you on Thursday, though, right?" He asks, referring to our smoking sessions.
"Yeah," I say sadly. "I'll be there," I confirm, because despite everything, I had to keep up appearances. I couldn't avoid him. Perhaps the only way I would be able to get over my stupid feelings would be to confront them head on, and spend more time with him.
Maybe he would do something that would gross me out, or give me the 'ick'. But, from what I'd learnt about Harry over the last few months, it was unlikely.
"Can't wait," he says, sounding excited, and I quickly rush my goodbyes, hanging up the phone, and letting the silence swallow me whole.
Ups! Gambar ini tidak mengikuti Pedoman Konten kami. Untuk melanjutkan publikasi, hapuslah gambar ini atau unggah gambar lain.
liked by wroetoshaw, georgeclarkeey, tobjizzle and 7,558,027 others
@hollypeterson: js been vibing
@georgeclarkeey: Is that not Arthur's jacket? 😭😭😭
@arthurtv: I WAS THINKING THAT I HAVEN'T SEEN IT IN DAYS
@haattieeb: 🤍🤍🤍
@user1: Miss you🫶🏼🫶🏼
@user2: YOU ARE BACKKKKK!,
@user3: missing pretty lonesome extra this week :(
