*DISCONTINUED* The Makeup Artist ~ (Richard Harmon)

F I V E

When I woke up alone on a Sunday morning was when I turned back to the bottle. I had a pretty bad alcohol problem when I was a teenager, so this felt like the best solution at the time. I opened the bottle of vodka, not bothering with a cup and headed back for the bedroom.

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I was shitfaced when the door opened. Richard walked in, clearly trying to be quiet but that stopped when he saw that I was awake.

"Ashlie said you were sleeping..." He trailed off, eyeing the half empty bottle but not saying anything. I shrugged, feeling myself swaying as the room span.

"Things change, get out." I mumbled, falling back onto the bed and turning away from him.

"Is everything ok? I know it's Sunday but Sierra said you told her that you were busy so she could make plans for the day." He kept talking when I didn't reply, causing me to roll my eyes. "Speaking of Sierra telling me things, why have you been avoiding me? You've been handing me off to Tara and Cassy and walking away before I can talk. Hell, you're not even answering your phone!" Once his rant was over I waited for him to leave but he was clearly expecting an answer.

"I lost it." Was all I said, but that wasn't true. I dropped it while on the fire escape the other night, but that's only a minor detail.

"Where?"

"If I knew where, it wouldn't be lost Richie." I called him by his pet name, but I then remember Sierra's threat. "Now, get out. Not kidding." I mumbled, not looking at him. I felt him staring at me, his gaze almost burning holes into my back but I didn't budge. He sighed, walking over and pulling the covers over me before turning and leaving. The door slammed shut behind him.

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"Give me a vodka gimlet on the rocks." I slurred slightly to the bartender who sighed before pouring me another drink. I was in California, attempting to stay far away from my best friend in order to keep my career. The past two days that I've been gone have been a drunken, high blur and I intended to carry on that way. I paid my tab before calling an Uber.

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*Richard's P.O.V.*

It's been 2 months since Sierra and I started dating, and three weeks since I've seen or heard from Isabella outside of passing by her room at the studio. I'm trying to think back to what I did wrong, but I was drawing a blank. She hasn't shown up for work the past two days, and when I brought it up with Jason and Ashlie all they said was she was visiting family. But she doesn't have family, not since her dad died and her sister moved to the Philippines.

Sierra was pissed off when I cancelled on her, but it seems almost everything pisses her off. It was starting to get on my nerves a bit. Why can't she be as calm and sweet as El? I thought before I could stop myself. I shook my head as I attempted to unlock Ella's house, only to find she had her locks changed. Why didn't she give me a new key? I felt slightly betrayed as I made my way around back. She never locked the back door, so I wasn't surprised when it opened with ease. Before I walked in, something caught my eye in the snow under her fire escape. Her phone.

I picked it up, surprised that it wasn't wet or broken and walked in. The place was a mess, bottles everywhere. I felt anxiety bubbling up in my stomach as I hoped to whatever entity was out there that she wasn't using again. She clearly wasn't visiting family, because if she did for some reason decide to visit the people who turned their backs on here she would've brought her conservative clothes. Those were all still hanging up in her closet.

I grimaced, moving some bottles away from her charger and plugged the phone in. After a few minutes it lit up, she had a voicemail from Ashlie.

Hey Ella, it's Ash. I know you don't want to talk about it anymore but I really think you need to tell him about what happened. It's driving you insane, I mean Jesus, I saw you throwing out makeup the other day. Half-Used Makeup. That's not like you hun, please. At least talk to someone. Love you boo.

The voicemail ended and left me beyond confused. Tell who what? Why did she tell Ashlie but not me? I shook my head, leaving her phone on the charger and grabbed a bag from under her sink. I sighed, looking around the apartment before deciding to start with the kitchen. After I cleaned up everything in there I had to get a new bag. This is going to be a long night.

A/N: I'm sorry

- Isabella