Broken || Little Mix ||

Chapter 42 - E

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I sigh, scrubbing at the grout in the tile of the bathroom. Apparently last night I dripped blood onto it but I was too stoned to notice. The weird mixture of bleach and soap have been slowly but surely removing it but it's taking a lot of physical effort on my part. I thank god that I managed to talk Perrie out of the flat with carpeted bathrooms. What a mess that would have been. Who the hell wants carpet in their bathroom anyways?

After another five minutes, I manage to get everything out, gratefully yanking off the stupidly itchy rubber gloves. I throw everything back under the counter and go to my room. Over the last few days I've managed to get it clean and somewhat keep it that way. Only the odd article of clothing lies here and there along with the random used cup. The rest of the flat is a different story. I open the tin on my nightstand and pull out a joint, not bothering to go outside to light it. I've given up caring about things like that. In fact, there's very little that I care about.

As I take my first hit, my phone buzzes.

Dr Richards: Jade did you forget our session was supposed to be twenty minutes ago? Get back to me as soon as you can

I ignore the message. I didn't forget about the session but after the fight I got into with Norma last night, I'm not in the mood to be therapized. So I decided to skip the session and text her tomorrow feigning a horrible migraine. Leaving my phone on the bed, I get up and start walking through the flat.

When Perrie and I moved in together, we decided to make the hallway leading back to the bedrooms some sort of shrine to our achievements. Because we had two of everything, she let my OCD win over and we made the left side of the hall mirror the right. I walk through it now, running my free hand along the plaques on the left wall. We had enough to fill up the hall and put some over the shelves of our more oddly shaped awards. We aren't cocky, just proud. At least that's what we tell ourselves every time a guest points it out. If they think our mini shrine is bad they should see our group chat in which Jesy dedicated thirty minutes last night to sending us the most impressive clips of her own high notes that she could find.

I go to sit on the couch but just before I can, a knock on the door stops me. I groan, wondering who the hell is it that I know who decided to bother me. There's no way Dr Richards could have sent Sam or someone else over to check up on me that quickly. I stub the joint out on the ashtray that now lives on the coffee table and try to straighten out my gym shorts and oversized sweater that I've been wearing for two days.

Whoever is at the door knocks again, annoying me.

"Settle down! I'm coming!" I shout out. I stumble past the mirror in the hallway, ignoring how badly put together I am and reach the door. I yank the handle, jerking it back and when I see who's standing there I have to resist the urge to slam the door back shut.

Clarke stands there, arm raised to scratch the back of his head. When our eyes meet he gives me a small smile which isn't returned.

"What in the bloody fuck are you doing here?" I spit out at him.

"Warm welcome," he remarks. "You won't answer any of my calls or messages. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Get the message and leave me the hell alone! You got blocked for good reason," I offer.

"Jade, I just got off a plane from Amsterdam and came straight here from the airport. I know I don't deserve it but can we please just talk?"

I stare at him evenly. Even though I know I should listen to the part of my brain that wants to slap him and close the door, I give in to the other part and pull the door back a bit.