Devils Star | h.s

Chapter 15

"But I don't share!" I'd been on the phone with Queenie for about an hour now. She moaned down the phone while informing me that the 'love of her life' had been taken.

"Queenie, you're scaring me."

"Don't worry, you're always safe with me, A! Anyway," she cleared her throat, "You won't believe who asked me about you."

"Who?"

"Jax."

"Jackson? He asked about me?"

She hummed down the phone, confirming what I heard wasn't my ears playing tricks on me. "He just waltzed into the flower shop I'm working at and then he kept asking me questions about you. Don't you guys keep in touch?" she questioned, and although we were on the phone I already knew that her lightly coloured brows would be furrowed in confusion. "I mean he is your boyfriend after all."

With all that was happening, it slipped my mind that Queenie didn't know about our little situation. And I certainly didn't feel like explaining everything to her now. I already had enough on my plate.

"I was pretty busy the last couple of weeks so I couldn't get back to him yet." I lied, knowing Queenie would freak out if she knew the truth.

"Don't neglect him, he cares a lot about you, A."

"Sure."

Time went on as Queenie told me all about her new job. A little old lady named Bernadette ran the small flower shop. Any flower you could think of she sold. They hung on the walls and the floors of the inside and out. And although it was small, she reminded the customers with every purchase 'Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heat.'

When hanging up the phone after wishing my friend a "goodnight" I couldn't help all the different kinds of thoughts that rushed through my head.

What if they did find out?

What will happen to me once my face is plastered on every single tv station?

What will happen to my job? To Queenie?

"Don't be too worried about the picture." the familiar rasp took me away from the intrusive thoughts I was having. "The chances they will find out about this is pretty low."

"How would you know this? Are you a paparazzi?"

"No..."

"Then you don't know shit!"

"Why are you so upset about this? Nothing's going to happen to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to you." I mocked what he said with a high-pitched tone. "Everybody will know my face, my name, everything about me! And they will think I'm some gold-digging attention whore!"

"Why the fuck do you care so much about what other people think? If you know who you are then who gives a fuck about anyone's opinion?" he said, like it was so simple for someone like me to just forget and act unbothered when in reality I couldn't forget and I was bothered.

"You're so simple-minded." I scoff.

"And you're just overthinking, Snow. I told you nothing's going to happen. So, stop caring about other people's opinions."

"You don't get it, Harry," I argued and he just stood there, staring back at me. He wasn't angry, he was calm and waiting for me to continue. "I mean you're fine. You're already famous and living this public life. I don't and I don't want to!" I will be the one screwed in the end. Not you.

THE NEXT DAY.

I had been entirely on edge all day since coming to work. I was scared everyone saw the news and figured out it was me.