I was used to being alone.
I was always the girl surrounded by people, yet still utterly alone.
It was comforting. I had grown immune to the feeling of being by myself.
But then, I met him.
And despite the voices in my head screaming at me to not l...
From the minute we stepped off of Chris' private jet, it has been a steady stream of water falling from the sky.
I can't complain though. I'm in Paris.
Emma and I have already made our way to the hotel to unpack and change, and currently, we are walking down the streets of Paris.
The eleven-hour flight consisted of a lot of sleeping and finalizing the sketches of the first three suits I have planned for Harry. It's bittersweet- the idea that Chris is giving me full control over this. The talk we had on Thursday wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It's been a common occurrence for Chris to come over and check in on me. It's another thing I felt guilty for at first, as he only started showing up after that night, but he's never made it seem as though it was a chore.
It's currently eleven o'clock at night in Paris and Emma is dragging my arm as she crosses another street without looking. "Emma, I swear to God you're going to get us ran over if you don't start looking before crossing the street," I say yanking my arm for her to slow down our pace.
She slows down so that she's walking next to me instead of dragging me and links our arms together. "I don't want the rain to ruin my outfit!" She says as our umbrellas clash against each other.
I let out a laugh as we weave our way down the sidewalk, dodging puddles, and making sure not to hit anyone with our umbrellas. I glance down to the left of me, looking at the outfit Emma picked out for the night. We had spent at least an hour of the plane ride planning out which outfits we would be wearing each day, making sure we agreed with what the other thought. Tonight, Emma got us on the guest list for a party hosted by Kendall Jenner. I didn't ask questions about how we got invited, but I know Emma knows Kendall through modeling. Speaking of Emma, she walks next to me in a black halter-top dress that has tiny crystals and beads sewn into the top half. Her hair is thrown up with two strands framing her face, with crystal earrings to match the diamond-embedded bag she carries. She's so pretty. I can't wait for some guy to fall in love with her and make her the happiest girl in the world.
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Emma made it clear that we would be coordinating outfits throughout the trip, including tonight. Which leaves me wearing a very tiny long-sleeved black dress. The dress has cutouts along the chest and arms, leaving me feeling very exposed, and like one wrong move and there might be a 'nip slip.' My hair is pulled back into a slicked-back bun, matching Emma with two pieces hanging to frame my face. I feel pretty. Pretty in Paris.
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