A/N: Please comment as you read. It'll mean the world to me.
I shook away all thoughts of Harry and returned to the other issue at hand. Ludmilla had been in tears because of something online. Part of me—the bratty part that insisted my problems were bigger than whatever she could be dealing with—wanted to just ignore it.
However, that wasn’t who I was; I would never willingly let my sister suffer without at least trying to understand the situation.
Finding my phone, I went online to find Ludmilla’s social networks. There was countless to choose from, as she seemed to be everywhere, but I chose the first one.
I had never really seen the appeal of the internet myself, but I knew that Milla had a vast following, who wished to talk to her whenever possible. She’d tried to explain why it was so important to keep in touch with them, but I just never understood.
It was something I’d tried to avoid to because of my own trust-issues. I wanted to lead a normal life, and not be known as ‘That celebrity’s sister’. I wanted to be known for me, to be loved for me.
The page took a while to load, and I was trying to guess what I’d find once it finally showed. She’d sounded pretty upset by everything, so I prepared for the worst.
And as I read the several posts on her profile, I could feel the distance between me and social networks grow further apart. It was horrible. People were being rude and disrespectful.
Scrolling down, I started to feel nauseous. How could anyone do this to another person? I read them, one by one, feeling more horrified with every word.
“#HarryDeservesBetterThanLudmilla.”
“You gold-digger. You just want him for his money so you can buy more drugs.”
“We will never accept you, Lust-Milla. He’s way out of your league. Go jump in a hole.”
“What would your parents think if they saw how slutty you dressed? #GrowUpLudmilla”
“Harry will rather die than spend another minute with you. Just like your parents.”
“Worthless Junkie-Ho. You can’t act for shit, and you’re no match for Harry. “
“You’re so pathetic. You can’t pay for your own addiction, is that it? #GetALife”
“You’re bad news, Ludmilla. Stay away from Harry.”
“Cold-hearted Bitch. Does anyone remember how indifferent she was when her parents’ death was brought to light? No feelings at all.”
“I hope you die. Do us all a favor and fix it for us. There’s no one to miss you anyway.”
“God, I hope this is just a PR stunt for the new movie.”
“Guys. It’s not real. Ludmilla can’t feel love—she doesn’t have a heart. Relax.”
Tears started to well in my eyes. It was beyond terrifying, and it went on and on for thousands of posts. A teardrop slid down my cheek, and my chest started to ache. Why did they do this? What could they possibly gain from it? I knew that Harry had many fans—a number that just kept growing every minute—but nothing could justify this kind of behavior.
Not to mention that it was all because of some poor quality photographs of me. Ludmilla hadn’t even met Harry Styles.
The tears started to flow freely now, and I sniffed loudly. Every hateful post sent me deeper and deeper into despair. Ludmilla had dealt with bad press before, but this was ridiculous. I knew I had to stop looking; it’d be of no use to make myself depressed at this.
Glancing at the clock, I realized it was almost time for the meeting with Steven. If I didn’t stop reading now, I’d run late, and I couldn’t afford to attract more bad reputation.
I hurried to the meeting room—the one we’d used the first day, as well. However, only Steven, Zayn and Harry was in there when I walked inside. Zayn and Steven greeted me, while Harry simply stared at his fingers, without moving or acknowledging me at all. I wanted to jump over the table, and shake some sense into him. Nevertheless, I remained in place.
“Cami,” Steven said. “Just the girl we’re waiting for. Take a seat, dear.”
I sat down next to Zayn and focused on Steven. I tried my best to avoid looking at Harry, but my eyes kept glancing in his direction to see if there was any reaction at all. But nothing changed. Looking back at Steven, I realized he was still talking.
“You’re all doing a killer job out there.” He smiled genuinely. “However, I decided that there’s always room for improvement.” He looked each of us into the eyes. “This production needs its leads on their very best, and while so far everything has been great, I want to brush up on some of your more… emotional acting skills.”
I frowned. Emotional?
Steven continued, “The upcoming shoots are filled with angst, romance, regret, jealousy and fear. You’re going to portray best friends on their way to success. And for that, I need to see some chemistry between you guys.”
Upon listening to Steven’s words, I thought back to the night before. No one could have complained over the lack of chemistry there.
“Therefore, I’ve had no other choice.” Steven walked over to an adjacent door on the opposite side of the room. “I’ve decided to hire an acting coach to make you come into contact with your inner actor.” He pulled the doorknob, opening to reveal a beautiful red-haired woman. “Guys, meet Diana Wayne.”
The woman stepped into the room with a big smile, greeting everyone. “It’s such a pleasure to be working with all of you,” she said.
Diana Wayne couldn’t be much older than any of us, and I had a vague memory of a news article about her stellar improvisation techniques.
I watched as she looked us over, and I even noticed how she stopped a Harry. A twang of something—jealousy, maybe—hurt in my chest. Even worse, Harry seemed to regard her with undivided attention.
Averting my eyes, I looked at Zayn, who seemed to be okay with everything going on. If Ludmilla had been here, she’d probably objected against the coach, but I probably needed it.
Diana walked back to the door. “I’ll see you in half an hour in the right wing. Please be there early, as you need to change into something more…” She glanced at me, apparently talking about my tight jeans and overload of accessories. Frowning slightly, she continued, “Comfortable. You need to be able to move around.”
After that, she left through the door she came. The room was silent after her departure, and I didn’t know where to look. Focusing on Steven seemed to be a relatively safe choice, and I sent him a smile.
He sat down in his chair again, folding his hands on the table. “I know it’s a slight change of plans, but I need you to be on your best before Milan. While we’re all safe here in the studio, there’ll be reporters and paparazzi swarming around when we do our outdoor shoots.” He sighed. “There’s going to be limited chances of re-takes, so I need you to do this for me.”
We all nodded in agreement. It was hard to argue against that—it made sense to have extra classes.
Zayn cleared his throat. “Will it only be us, then?” he asked.
“Yes,” Steven replied. “The rest of the crew is already attending classes weekly, but I need you three to work on your on-screen friendship.” Steven rose from his chair. “Now, if there are no more questions, I’ll leave you to finish the rest of your lunch break before you meet up with Diana.”
We all remained seated until he’d left the room. I bit my lip and contemplated saying something to Harry. However, he didn’t give me a chance at all. Without a look in my direction, he simply left the room quietly.
Zayn sent me a puzzled look. “Did something happen between the two of you?”
I shook my head. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”
“Seems pretty deep.” He stood up. “Anyway, I’m here if you want to talk about it. Want to grab a bite to eat before we go to the right wing?”
Shaking my head, I politely refused. “I’m not really that hungry, yet. I had a massive breakfast.”
He said his goodbyes, and then left me alone in the room.
Without Zayn here to distract me, I was forced to face my thoughts. They had been buzzing in the back of my mind throughout the meeting. What was I supposed to do to make things better between Harry and me?
Part of me was relieved that it was all over now. If there’d been any chance at something between us, it had been utterly ruined.
Another part, though, hoped that Harry and I could figure out how to be friends. Sure, it was a poor substitute, but it was better than whatever we had going on now.
Groaning, I decided to stop overthinking things and only walk through this day as fast as possible. I also had to figure out what to do with the online attack on Ludmilla. Even though, it had been her idea, I knew that I wasn’t without fault. I should have known better than to get cozy with a co-star.
I walked to the right wing, and a security guard pointed me towards the dressing room. It was different from the other parts of the studio, complete with a small shower to wash away sweat after a workout.
Diana hadn’t been kidding when she said we’d need to dress in something comfortable. A pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt had been laid out, and I immediately changed into the clothing. I found a pair of white sneakers and pulled my hair into a bun.
The “classroom” seemed more like an empty gym. Mirrors lined the walls, and several ballet bars were placed at each end of the room. I recognized them as the ribs from the numerous dance films I’d watched in the past. They were useful for stretching out your muscles after a workout.
Walking in, I studied my own reflection. Despite the earlier coffee, my lack of sleep was starting to show. Bags were visible beneath my eyes, and you could see I’d been crying.
If the door hadn’t opened that second, I would have left to splash my face with cold water. However, Zayn and Harry entered with Diana in tow.
“Good to see you all,” she said. “Ms. Hanson, you obviously know a few of warming exercises already, but I’ll run through them for the benefit of the boys.” She turned to them. “First, we need to warm up the brain muscles—don’t look at me like that, Zayn. The mind is necessary in acting as you need to be able to control your feelings, and imitate even your most horrifying moment. Not to mention your memory needs to be sharp to remember lines.” She winked.
Diana started to walk back and forth in front of us. She stopped in front of the guys. “Since your strength is in music and lyrics, I’ll make it simple. We’re going to have a conversation, only using lines from songs we know.” She smiled. “The rules are simple. I start, and then you keep the chain going until I call stop. If you’re unable to find something, I’ll tap you out, and the rest continues, until finally, there’s a ‘Winner’.” She air-quoted the last word.
“Cool,” Zayn said. “We can do that.”
“Alright then.” Diana smiled. “I’ll start then, Harry you reply, then Cami, and last Zayn, and then me again.”
We nodded in agreement, and I already started to run through songs in my head.
“Do you believe in life after love?” Diana asked.
Harry replied instantly. “Never say never.”
“I knew you were trouble when you walked in,” I said and looked to Zayn.
“You had me hooked again from the minute you sat down.” He laughed.
We all looked to Diana, who was smiling. “But, your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me!”
“You’ll let me hold your hand?” Harry winked to her.
Annoyed, I said. “It’s just you and your hand tonight.”
“Why was I the last to know?” Zayn continued, trying hard to fight another laugh.
Diana played along. “I don’t know anything.”
“Do you know what it feels like loving someone that's in a rush to throw you away?”
I jerked my head to look at Harry. What? Diana motioned for me to continue, and I ran through everything. Finally settling on something, I said. “You may know me as a former ‘Most Love Only Last a While’.”
Zayn snorted. “But I’m going to teach to you different this time.”
“Can you teach me how to Dougie?” Diana grinned.
“Through you, I can do anything,” Harry said and took a step closer, touching Diana’s hand.
I wanted to gag. Harry’s choices made me speechless. Deep down, I knew that he was just trying to play the game, but I shoved it away. This had to run deeper. Right?
Diana tapped me out, and I walked to the side, watching them play on.
“Anything is possible,” Zayn said. He sent me an apologetic look.
“Whatever you want,” Diana said.
Harry answered right away. “I just want you around.”
Upon hearing that, Zayn hesitated, and he was tapped out a moment later. Lazily, he walked over beside me, watching Harry and Diana throw lyrics at each other.
“What about her?” Diana said.
“We’re never ever getting back together.” Harry grinned.
Zayn and I shared a look as Diana began to clap. “Superb, all of you. As you can see, it can be useful to train your memory like that—it works wonders for remembering your lines, as well.” She walked over to a big bag near the door. Bending down, I saw her take out some pieces of paper.
“Now,” she said as she walked back to the middle of the room. “We need to practice some actual acting, as well. Here, in my hand, I have cards with a different emotion written down on each. Two and two—Cami and Zayn together, while Harry you practice with me—we’ll have to play out the emotions we draw, answering to whatever our partner already acted out.”
When none of us reacted, she shook her head. “That did sound a little confusing, I know. Allow me to illustrate.” She held up a card. “On this one, it says ‘Regret’. Then I’d have to improvise that feeling—it could be anything really. I just have to show the emotion. Then, Harry, will draw a card, and”—she showed the next card—“he got ‘Happy’. What he needs to do, is to come up with a response to my acting, but showing happiness. The two others will watch, and guess the emotions.”
At this point, we all understood. Diana mixed the cards together and sat down on the floor. “Zayn and Cami, you two will start.” She placed the cards on the floor in a neat stack, and we walked over to her.
Zayn bent down, picking up two cards and handed me one of them. I read mine: ‘Disappointment’.
I walked up in front of them and prepared myself, how to show it the best. I took a hunched posture, pressing my lips tight together while rubbing the back of my neck.
“I’m really happy for you,” I said, without making eye contact with Zayn. Dropping my voice to a low mutter, I continued, “You certainly deserve to win more than me.”
Zayn sprung forth, legs apart with his hands at his sides. With a hard face, he scrunched up his nose. “I don’t believe this. The judge was a complete moron.” He kicked the floor and clenched his hands into fists. “I could just… murder them, right now.”
He stopped, and we both looked to Diana, who was nodding her head in appreciation. “Excellent. I could really feel an intense emotion from both of you. And I think I have figured out which emotion you guys’ had.” She looked to Harry, who was focusing on Zayn. “What about you?”
I really hoped that Harry would look at me, but he kept his eyes firmly away from my person. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah, I guess Zayn’s were ‘Anger’, but I’m not so sure about the other. It could be humbleness or shyness—maybe even sleepiness.”
His words stung a little. I wasn’t that bad, and I knew that my acting had shown all the physical signs of disappointment. Sure, they had many symptoms in common, but still…
Diana seemed to agree. “I can see your point. However, I think that it was ‘Disappointment’, right?” She looked at me.
“Yeah,” I said. I walked over beside Diana and sat down. Zayn followed suit right after.
This time it was Harry and Diana’s turn. She hadn’t said anything about the length of the improvisation, so I prepared myself to be on alert.
They each took a card, and Diana announced that she was starting. Taking off her loose T-shirt, she showed off an incredibly toned body. The top she’d worn underneath her shirt, clung to her body, showing off a flat stomach and a well-placed cleavage.
I glanced at Zayn, who seemed unaffected by the change, but when I looked at Harry, my mouth became dry. He was flat-out staring, and according to the smile playing at his lips, he liked what he saw.
Diana cleared her throat and held the T-shirt away from her body. “How could you?” she said, her voice breaking halfway through the sentence. She stared at Harry with wide eyes. “I gave you everything.”
I couldn’t take my eyes away. She was good.
She threw the shirt on the floor. “I never want to see you again. Go to your whore, instead.” Diana turned away, sniffing lightly.
Harry stepped into view, holding out his hand. “But, Sweetheart,” he said. “There’s no one else but you for me.”
Diana didn’t acknowledge his presence, and he pressed on. Harry walked over in front of her. As he stared down at her, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he placed a hand on her waist, while letting his other hand caress her face.
“You’re the one I love,” he said as he looked into her eyes. His arms brought her closer, and I could see how his eyes travelled to her lips. “Only you,” he whispered.
I had to close my eyes for a second. If I were to play jealous right now, I believe I would have nailed it. It was hard to watch.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw his thumb swipe over her cheek. He leaned closer, and I held my breath. He stopped barely an inch from her lips, and then he let go of her.
I released the breath I’d been holding.
Diana cleared her throat, looking a bit flustered. The scene had gotten her slightly out of breath, and some color had edged into her cheeks. “Magnificent,” she said. Looking as us, she arched an eyebrow. “Well? What do you think?”
Zayn was the first to answer. “Harry’s was obviously ‘Love,' whereas yours could be a betrayal, or flat-out sadness.”
“I think it was a betrayal,” I said.
Diana nodded and showed us the cards. We’d been right. She glanced her wristwatch. “Oh my, time really flies when you’re in good company.” She picked up her shirt and took it over her head. “Today was just a small intro—we’ll work much more on developing your skills later.”
I was somewhat happy that today was over already. Watching Harry act so naturally was pure torture. Okay, maybe not torture, but something similar. On top of everything, this just made everything fall to pieces around me.
Changing into my own clothes again had to be the highlight of my day. Everything had just been crap upon crap all day. This was just not my day.
As I walked out of the studio, ready to find Marcus to demand he took me home, Zayn called my name.
“Cami,” he shouted. “Wait up.”
I stopped and waited for him to catch up. He began to run halfway through the courtyard, and when he finally slowed down in front of me, he was gasping for air. Leaning on his knees, he looked up at me.
“I need to work out more,” he said.
Looking at his fit figure, I didn’t agree, but I kept my mouth shut. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to know if you would help me with something…”
“Sure, what do you need?” I was intrigued to know what he could possibly want from me.
He stretched his back. “You know how you suggested I make something for Terry, right?”
I nodded.
“Well. I figured out what I wanted to draw, but I sort of need a second set of hands. I was wondering if you’d be willing to help out.”
Once again, he’d taken on an almost shy appearance. He looked everywhere except at me, and I couldn’t help but to laugh a little. “Sure. I’m up for it. Just not today—I have something to do.” My stomach twisted at the thought of Ludmilla’s haters.
“No worries.” He smiled. “I’ve got plans with Harry anyway. But how about tomorrow? After work?”
“That sounds great.”
“Just remember to wear clothes you don’t mind getting dirty.”
“Sure…” I saw Marcus leaving the building. “Look, I have to go catch my assistant. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
He nodded. “Sounds good. Catch Ya’ later.”
“Bye.” I laughed.
Zayn ran off, and I immediately walked over to Marcus. “I need to get home. Now. I need to talk to Ludmilla.”
He looked at me with a frown, but he must have known the seriousness of the situation, because he didn’t complain.
We drove in silence, and the moment I stepped into the hotel room, I told Marcus that I had to speak privately with my sister. He wasn’t too keen on the idea, but finally accepted it and walked to his own room, while I ran to my bed. The tablet was next to the flower, I’d gotten from Harry. I allowed myself to stare at it for a second before I grabbed the tablet and called Ludmilla.
She answered almost immediately. “Cami, it’s only gotten worse,” she said.
“I know, Milla. I saw.” My chest tightened at the memory of the horrible posts. “You’re not still looking through them, are you?”
Even though, the tablet had a small screen, I saw the tears the moment they began to trickle down her cheeks. Breaking down, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed. “They’re so horrible.”
“Milla, sweetie,” I said. “I can’t understand you when you’re crying. Please, take a deep breath.”
She nodded, and followed my advice. After ten deep breaths, she was relatively calm again. Only the occasional sniffle and the tears were visible signs of her breakdown.
“Tell me what happened,” I said.
“Someone photoshopped my photos with needles sticking out my arms, captioned with ‘The new Mrs. Styles, ladies and gentlemen.’ And there’s even started a petition to boycott my movie deal. They’re spreading horrible rumors everywhere.”
“Who is spreading all of this?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It can’t only be Harry’s fans, though. I think some of them are just trying to feed off a scandal. Or taking the chance to tell me how much they hate me.” She sniffed. “Of course, it doesn’t help that every hour; some news-page spreads the news even further.”
“Have you responded at all?”
“No. I’ve responded to the people who are sending me supportive messages still, but it’s hard because haters keep replying in the middle of a conversation. They drag my fans into it, and it’s just one big mess.”
“Does Marcus have anything to say about this?”
“He only knows some of it. I’ve been dodging his calls all day.”
“That explains his mood.” I rubbed my forehead, my earlier headache coming back. “I don’t know what to do, Milla. I really have no idea.”
She went quiet for a moment, and I looked at her to find out why. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Can I…” She hesitated. “Can I know what happened exactly?”
I bit my lip. Part of me didn’t want to talk about things I didn’t understand myself, but another part wanted to have a second set of eyes, as well. Taking a deep breath. “After the coffee, Harry and Zayn asked me out to a small initiation tour. I didn’t know what it was at the moment, but I agreed in the end. We drove to Lincoln Park, where they wanted to play hide-and-seek. I hid in a tree, and Harry had to find me. When it was time to come down—you know me, I can’t get down—I had to jump into his arms, and we fell to the ground.
“Zayn was on the phone with his girlfriend, and Harry asked me for a walk on the beach. I’d had a lot of fun playing the game, and didn’t want the evening to end, yet. So I said yes. We walked and talked. Finally, we sat down and continued to talk. At some point, he ran off to get me a flower. It was a beautiful lily.” I took a deep breath, glancing at the flower on my night table. “I don’t exactly know what happened then. We were lying in the sand, staring at a beautiful sky while talking about everything and nothing. At one point, we were facing each other, and I thought there might be something going on. We were staring into each other’s eyes, the distance between us slowly closing.
“But, Zayn called and interrupted before anything happened at all. His phone was almost out of battery, and we had to drive home. Harry and I both got up, without talking about what had happened, and then we walked back.” I tried to look as sincere as possible. “Nothing happened, I promise.”
“But why does everybody hate on me now?”
“I don’t know. I googled the pictures, and I guess we were just unlucky in those moments. But nothing will happen now—especially since he probably hates me now.” A feeling of sadness filled me up inside, and I looked away.
“Why would he hate you?”
“I don’t know, Milla.” I sighed and looked back at the screen. “He heard the last of our conversation and simply shut me out. He could be imitating a freezer with the cold shoulder he’s giving me.”
Ludmilla became quiet after that. I swallowed hard, looking at my fingers.
“The worst part,” I said. “I think I actually like him.”
“You haven’t known each other for that long, Cami.”
“I know that,” I snapped back. “It’s not like I’m in love or anything. He just…” I shrugged. “He just made me feel better about this job. I like spending time with him.”
“Do you think there’s a chance of something more?” she asked.
I snorted. “How could there be? He thinks I’m you. A friendship would be too much to ask for given the circumstances.”
Ludmilla tried to change the topic. “What else happened today?”
“We’ve got an acting coach,” I said. “Her name is Diana Wayne.”
“Really?” Ludmilla squealed. “I love her so much—she’s absolutely gorgeous, and so talented.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said dryly.
She frowned. “You don’t like her?”
“Yes, I do. And apparently so does Harry.” I sighed. “She’s sweet, talented, a good teacher, and good-looking. I can’t compare to that—nobody compares at all.”
“I’m sorry, Cami,” she muttered.
I rolled over on my side, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah… me too.”
A/N: Give it a vote, maybe? Your support is what makes this story grow.