Broken || Little Mix ||

Chapter 39 - E

I keep my eyes down, focused on the ground in front of me to keep myself from tripping over anything. The flashes from the cameras blind me and my sunglasses and hat do little to protect me from their brightness. Jackson has an arm around me, allowing me to keep my head down while he tries to shield my face from the cameras with his other hand. Even with the security team helping us, trying to get through this crowd is brutal.

Every single one of them shout questions at me that don't even register on my ears. My brain is too tired to process them. I didn't sleep at all last night and didn't have much luck on the flight either. My body is too anxious, my adrenaline not slowing down enough to let my mind drift off to sleep. I'm physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Leaving the girls to go to the airport was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Once I was finally through security, I decided to say fuck it and took one of the few pills I had left from Clarke rattling around in my aspirin bottle. It's not like I'm risking anything by taking it. I'm already off the tour. It was enough to numb me from my emotions to give me a break. I took another one right before we landed, wanting to make sure the feeling lasted through the meeting I have to endure.

It takes an entire five minutes to fight through the crowd of photographers to the van that's waiting on the curb right outside of the airport. The security team wastes no time in throwing my bags in the boot, allowing the driver to pull off within a minute of Jackson and I getting into the van. I sink back into the seat, staring out at the typical English overcast that yields a slight drizzle. Pulling out my phone, I send a quick, one worded text in the group chat: Landed. I don't have much else to say to them. I promised I'd call them after the meeting but until then, there isn't any updates to give them.

Jackson starts making the odd call here and there, telling Sam that we've landed, giving the same update to, what I'm assuming from the ring on his finger, is his wife as well, before switching to quietly typing emails out on his phone. He's been a member of our management's PR team for about a year now but I've never had much personal interaction with him as he's far too quiet for that. He prefers to do his job, keep it professional and leave it at that. He's nice enough, just very private. It leaves an awkward silence between the two of us. It stretches out for the entirety of the forty minute drive through downtown London traffic. By the time we reach the label's main office, I'm actually looking forward to being out of a confined space with him despite the warm detachment the painkiller gives me.

To avoid the mass crowd of press out front, the driver pulls the van around to the back entrance of the parking garage, allowing us to get out of the car peacefully. To my surprise, Sam is waiting in the garage for us. Even more surprising, she rushes over to us, enveloping me in a tight hug.

"Was the flight okay?" she asks, pulling away.

I give a slight nod, not really in the mood to talk. She studies my face carefully, frowning slightly, before turning and leading us towards the lift.

"Everyone's already gathered in the conference room but I wanted to have a private word with you first," she explains, jamming the button for the twenty-fifth floor, which is known as the executive floor. All of the important meetings take place there and most of the important bosses have their office there, hence the term 'executive floor.' I lean against the wall as we get carried skyward, trying not to puke from the motion.

When the doors open, Jackson branches off towards the conference rooms but Sam leads me off to the side, motioning for me to step inside of an empty office. Knowing that Sam's office is located a few streets over at Modest's building, I wonder if she bothered to ask for permission to use it or if she, more than likely, just decided to commandeer it. She waves at the couch by the window so I sit down, leaning my head against my hand. I've never wanted my bed more than I do right now and knowing it's a mere twenty minute drive away is agonizing.