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...
Happy Valentine's Day! This chapter is a *slight* reprieve from all the sad angst and in honour of valentines..... Enjoy!!!!!!!! (it's slightly insane im gonna be real)
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@hollypeterson: nothing's real
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@jess.peterson: Loving the jorts actually!!!!
@haattieeb: okkkkk slay
@georgeclarkeey: Queen of the internet is back hell yeah
@arthurtv: 🙌🏼
"That's the third time they've got a picture of me looking rough and a McDonald's breakfast in hand," Hattie grumbles, dumping the bags of food on the kitchen table, where Jess, Arthur and George all dig in. "Surely it's got to be illegal, them camping outside of the building."
"It's not," George says moodily. "I checked."
It's my fault. Everyone knows it, but they're all too kind to say it to my face.
"Holly, I got you a hash brown," Hattie says kindly, holding up the greasy food in front of me.
"Keep it there, I just need to grab something," I lie, excusing myself from the table, and headed into my room where it felt like I could actually breathe again.
Nearly two weeks had passed since my birthday, and Harry's statement. It had inevitably made things worse, and nothing had calmed down. Cathy was, unfortunately, very wrong in her calculation, and the world was still very busy dissecting every aspect of my life, and my relationship with Harry.
Of course, they knew nothing, because we had been so, incredibly careful, but now that the truth was out there, it wasn't difficult for the public to put pieces of information together, and string together loose conspiracies.
Throughout it all, I still felt so overwhelmingly angry. At Matthew. At the public. But at Harry, too. It was infuriating.
Shutting the door, I press my back against it and take a deep breath. A quick count to five, I opened my eyes and managed to unclench my fists, and headed towards my chest of drawers.
I wanted my cigarettes, I needed to get out of this flat and just exist by myself. But the second I opened up the drawer, it was there, staring right back at me.
Harry's hoodie. I wasn't sure when he'd even put it in here, but it was there, neatly folded, and it was instinctive for me to pick it up, his scent flooding every crevice of my room.
The cigarettes were right there, underneath, but I was far too distracted by the hoodie. All-consuming thoughts of him, swirling around in my brain.
"Shit," I whispered, pressing the hoodie against my face, and just standing there.
