Love in Ireland

/34/

-Thursday January 11th-

456-770-0901: You're kidding yourself if you think Declan even remotely likes you.

321-532-1728: YOU. DON'T. BELONG.

505-379-4107: Your fashion sense is awful. You looked like a freaking banana in that yellow dress.

690-435-2121: DECLAN. DOES. NOT. LOVE. YOU.

690-435-2121: AND. NEVER. WILL.

790-113-684: Honestly, you should just stop now. He doesn't love you and will end up dumping you for someone better. Just trying to help you!

804-613-700: GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM YOU BITCH.

"Well...." Alannah strained.

"If you say it could be worse, I will throw my coffee at you." I deadpanned. "There are like fifty more!"

It's been four days since Declan's birthday and my phone has been blowing up ever since. Today I reached a record for the number of hate texts I could get in a day. It wasn't even twelve yet. And they've apparently found my Gmail and have started sending me anonymous emails. How? I could not tell you.

"Have you told Zach and Declan?" Alannah asked.

"No...."

"Milena!" Alannah yelled disappointedly. "You were supposed to tell them."

"I know." I sighed. "But I don't want to worry them or get them involved. I wasn't even going to get you involved, but you were way too persistent."

"Come on. Just tell them. If you won't, I might. They already know something is up. And maybe they can help." Alannah said seriously.

"Help with what?" Zach asked, walking in to the studio. Declan was right behind him.

"Do you ever knock?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"It's the studio. And you left the door open." Zach shrugged as if that explained why he never knocks. "Anyway, what were you guys talking about?"

"Alannah's birthday ball. Her birthday and Valentine's day are pretty close. I'm going to start working on the clothes for those events soon." I half lied. Most of that was true. I was currently doing sketches for Alannah's birthday ball. But Alannah and I weren't talking about that.

Alannah glared at me, and I knew she was debating if she should tell them for me. Declan had sat down next to me and was playing with a strand of my hair. I could smell his citrus scent and it was very comforting.

"Is that why you're drawing dresses?" Declan asked, gesturing to my sketchbook.

"Yeah. I'm just adding finishing touches to the dresses Alannah and I have already created, and then I'm starting on your suit."

"Oh yeah. I forgot that you spend like two weeks working on your guys' dream dresses for her birthday ball." Declan said.

I nodded and looked up at Alannah. She was still glaring at me. I knew I was going to have to tell them, eventually. But I was scared. I wasn't sure how they would react, and suddenly I was feeling insecure. What if this person(s) was right? What if Declan agreed with them? It's gotten harder and harder to ignore the texts. Now it's harder for me to not let them affect me. I mean, they're right. I don't belong and I probably never will. All I will really ever be is the royal seamstress for the Irish Royal family. Which is amazing and I couldn't ask for anything more or better. But it's not like I know how to be royal and I definitely can't live up to a lady or a princess of another country or something.