I can see the curiosity starting to grow in Harry's pools of green as he occasionally glances back at Simon Cowell. The betrayal from Eleanor is fresh as she exposed me for being one of his toys. Simon Cowell, the man that stole my glow. The man that wiped away my shine and left me battered and ugly. It's all his fault.
"I sing as well. I'm with Simon Cowell, as Eleanor said," I explain. I hope for him to trust me. It should be easy. Most lambs are trusting and I'm sure Harry will be, but I pray to everything that is holy that he is not. I pray that he doesn't trust a word I say, at least not yet. If he trusts me so soon it can only mean he trusts them so soon and that is dangerous.
"I've heard he does wonders for your career. I have heard of you, a couple of songs at least. I adore your single, 'Two of Us'. It played on the radios non-stop. It takes a lot of courage to put out a song like that."
the memory of the song and its meaning burn a hole in my chest. It's been 365 days since the song dropped and 359 days since the death of my sister. 881 days since the death of my mother and the event that inspired the birth of the song to begin with.
My age in the industry didn't quite hit until that day 881 days ago. 881 days since the numbness has settled in. Ever since it's spread like a disease into my life. I pray that it doesn't spread into Harry. The last thing that Harry needs is my numbness.