Cliché || H.S.

Chapter 15

"To be fair it's not being a traitor if I've always been a Versace girl," I toss the pillow back to him and move out of the bed, "I do have to get ready though, you can hang out for a little if you want, it's up to you."

Harry gets up and follows me through my bathroom and into my closet. He takes a lap around the space, touching some pieces of clothing that are on display hanging, "Holy shit, this is a lot of clothes. How do you even find what you're looking for?"

His eyes are big and his reaction makes me laugh, "Shirts, pants, dresses," I point to each wall besides the one that's covered in shoes, "Each one is color coded. Comfy clothes are in the drawers." I make my way to one of the drawers that I just pointed to and pull out a pair of biker shorts and an oversized Laker's hoodie. I pull them on while I watch Harry open the doors to what I told him were dresses.

He looks through some of them before turning back to me, "I expected you to have a lot more fancy red carpet kind of stuff."

"A lot of the really outrageous ones are taken back by the designer. Those ones are just my favorites or have some sort of significance like my first ever premier. The ones that are a little bit more tame and I know I'll never wear again I donate to girls who can't afford to buy a prom dress," That idea had been my mom's and it was definitely one of her better ideas. I've donated probably over fifty dresses in the past four years.

"Oh wow... that's awesome, Lil," Harry continues on, "is that your main charity?" I almost scoff at the idea. I might be making a teenage girl's year, and I'm happy to do it, but it's not like donating dresses is anything super impressive. But the more I think about it, I realize that for a lot of celebrities, that is all they would do. Doing the bare minimum for the publicity of it and then hoarding their money.

"Um no, I do some other stuff," I plan on stopping there but Harry is looking at me like he expects me to continue, "I donate one percent of my salary to my sorority's philanthropy and another percent to the Equal Justice Initiative. And um, when I was buying this house I felt really guilty that I had so much money to drop when some people can't afford to buy a house at all. So I cut my budget in half and donated the other half to a homeless relief fund..." I feel somewhat embarrassed talking about my money like that. I don't usually talk about where I'm giving my money because I don't expect a trophy from it. You shouldn't need validation to be a good human.

"I really don't know how you could get any better," Harry says, walking towards me, "are we sure you're real?" He puts both of his hands on my face and feels around before squeezing my cheeks together. I feign annoyance and swat his hands away while backing out of his reach.

As we finish our breakfast, the doorbell rings and Harry follows me to the front door. I open it up to find Annabelle, the designer who has been assigned to me on the porch with garment bags and a suitcase in tow.

"I'll be going then... call me when you're done?" I nod my head and Harry presses a kiss to the side of my head before walking out the door past Annabelle. She looks between the two of us, a shocked expression on her face.

I lead her into the living room where we usually set up and she pulls out the first dress for me to change into, "so the rumors are true? You and Harry?" She has a smug smile on her face, and it makes me want to tell her everything.

I've been working with Annabelle for about three years now, and I find myself telling her details about myself that I usually keep private. She's young, probably only four or five years older than me, and she reminds me a lot of the girls from home. She treats everyone like she's known them for years and you can tell she's genuine.

But instead of spilling my guts, "Yeah he's... something," is all I can think to say. She laughs at my remark while helping me slip into the dress, "yeah something incredibly sexy. I'm so jealous of you.... but if anyone is going to steal him away from me I'm glad it's you. You deserve someone who makes you happy," she looks up at me with a genuine look in her eyes and for some reason it calms some of the anxiety I've been having. I've been trying to remind myself a lot recently that I do deserve to be happy.

Annabelle gets to work, making notes and pinning pieces of fabric around my body. Once everything is in place she turns me so I can face myself in the mirror. It's absolutely perfect. I'm covered in rhinestones and feathers, a statement no doubt.

"We're going to need to take this in a bit at your waist but otherwise it's perfect. Let's get you into the after party dress."

Once everything is finalized, Annabelle packs up the dresses and I walk her to the door. "I'll meet you at the hotel next week in New York with the dresses. Take care of yourself until then, alright?" Annabelle glares at me like she doesn't trust me to actually be left alone for a week. In her defense she knows all about my history with guys, my bad relationship with self image, and my messed up sleep schedule. A lot could collapse in a short period of time, but I'm confident that I won't self destruct this week.

"I think I'll manage until then," I laugh, "I'll see you in New York!"