inspirations // harry styles

chapter thirty-eight // doctors to heal the wounds.

Olivia's POV

Days have passed and it's not getting any easier. I'm not sure if I expected it to, but I had hoped I could return to being somewhat normal. I can tell by the looks on everyone's faces that they're starting to get sick of this new me; the me without Harry.

The feminist inside me would shoot me if it could. I've never felt so dependent on someone before. I mean, seriously. I got up and left my parents behind without a second glance, but removing myself from some boy that I fell in love with much too quickly has become the impossible.

The world doesn't make sense at all.

I've forced myself to keep going though. I've worked too damn hard to let all that I still have going for me go to shame. My lack of interest in anything else has caused Tea and I to practically live in the studio, much to Stuart's pleasure. We finished our EP last night at around midnight.

Singing in the studio drained me physically and emotionally. I lost count the number of times we had to restart the song because I busted into tears. Yet, everyone stayed patient with me. I know if I were in their shoes and had to deal with someone like me, I'd slap them in the face and tell them to grow a pair. But that never happened.

"Darling, can you please stop moving around so much? I'm trying to work magic here," My make-up artist groans, folding her arms across her chest.

I hadn't even realized I had been zoning out and started to bob my head with the music playing in the background.

"Sorry," I mutter, biting my bottom lip apologetically.

I catch Tea's watchful and concerned eyes in the reflection of the mirror at the location of our photo-shoot. She's already done with her hair and make-up. Her stylist didn't have the task of hiding bags beneath her bloodshot eyes.

Much to our dismay after yesterday's incredibly long night in the studio, Stuart told us this morning - having forgotten to do so earlier - that we have our photo-shoot for the cover of our EP today. So the two of us had to drag our exhausted butts out of bed before noon, which didn't settle with either of us very well.

"Can the two of you hurry up please? The sun does not do well with gingers," Ed pokes his head into make-up trailer. His face is beet-red with sweat dripping down.

Ed offered to come along on the shoot for moral support since we were complaining about having to wake up so early.

Tea turns on her video camera, filming Ed's rather unhappy face. These past few days, she's taken up filming everything that we do. She says this is an experience we're never going to want to forget, and also it could be worth something some day.  At first it was slightly amusing, but both Ed and I are sick of it.

"Quit being such a diva," Tea sticks her tongue out as she puts the camera in Ed's face, causing him to send her a bitter glare. She only throws her head back with laughter before shutting it off.

"She's all yours," My stylist pats me on the back and gives the two of them a smile.

I glance at myself in the mirror, actually looking at myself for once. Although my stylist did an amazing job making me look back to what would be considered a human creature, I can see past all the make-up.

The main reason I didn't want to be here on this photo-shoot is because I don't want to have documentation of how I'm feeling at this moment. I've never been one great at hiding how I'm feeling. So when I look at the cover of our demo, all I'm going to see is my tired and lifeless eyes faking happiness.

I mean to everyone else, I'm sure I look fine. My brown curly hair is knotted on top of my head and my bangs are neatly combed and trimmed. I'm wearing one of my favorite dresses with my classic oxfords. I look like Olivia.