𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍, ʰᵃʳʳʸ ˢᵗʸˡᵉˢ

• 𝟑𝟑 - 𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

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simon called me in for an emergency meeting today, and for the first time, i had to go alone. no harry. no one to sit next to me in the car or walk into the building with me, cracking jokes or making me feel like i could handle whatever bullshit simon had planned.

it was just me.

i had to get used to that now. harry and i hadn't been together for a week now, but it wasn't like we were nothing either. we'd had something—something real, at least i thought we did.

but after that last meeting with simon, everything between us went downhill fast.

it was after that meeting that harry started acting weird. distant. like he was shutting me out, one text at a time. at first, i thought maybe he was just stressed, maybe simon had gotten into his head, but the truth is, i was probably making excuses for him. deep down, i knew something had changed, and now, almost february 14th, i had no valentine.

last month, i was sure harry would be mine. i was so fucking sure that even with everything falling apart, we'd find a way to be together. but now... now i'm not so sure of anything.

i stood in front of the mirror, trying to get ready for the meeting, but all i could see was how exhausted i looked. pale skin, scars,  dark circles under my eyes. my hair was a mess, and no matter how many times i brushed through it, i couldn't make myself look... right.

my eating disorder made me so thin that it was painfully obvious.

everything about today felt wrong. my hands shook as i grabbed my bag, fumbling with the zipper. i cursed under my breath, frustrated with myself. pull it together amélie , i thought, but i couldn't shake that sick feeling that had been growing all morning.

i knew this meeting was going to be bad. simon didn't do "emergency" unless he had something awful to spring on me. something that was going to turn my life upside down. i could feel it.

the drive over was quiet, too quiet. my phone sat face down on the passenger seat, and i kept glancing at it, hoping maybe harry would text. maybe he'd tell me everything was fine, that he wasn't pulling away on purpose, that we were still... whatever the hell we were. but the phone stayed silent, and so did i.

i wanted to reach out, but my pride wouldn't let me. i wasn't going to chase him. i wasn't going to beg for his attention.

walking into the office, i felt the weight of the place pressing down on me. the tension in the air was thick, and every step i took toward simon's office felt heavier than the last. as soon as i stepped inside, i knew something was up.

simon was sitting there, tapping his pen against his notepad, looking far too pleased with himself.

"sit," he said without even looking up.

i sat down, trying to calm the rage already building inside me. "what's this about?" i asked, cutting straight to it. i wasn't in the mood to dance around whatever simon had planned.

"i've got a new opportunity for you," he said, smirking like he always did when he knew he was about to drop a bombshell. "we need to stir up some buzz. a little pr move."

i sighed, rolling my eyes. "right. what now? you want to try and get me to fake-date another random guy to get headlines? i thought we were done with that bullshit."

simon's grin widened. "actually, yes. i've got someone perfect lined up for you. timothée chalamet."

i blinked. timothée who? "who the fuck is that?"

simon leaned forward, still smirking. "he's an up-and-coming actor. big with the younger crowd, very popular with the ladies. we're pairing you up with him for a while, get some attention, make some headlines. it'll be good for your image."

my stomach dropped. i had no idea who this guy was, and i didn't care. all i could think about was harry. this was the last thing i needed right now, especially with everything already falling apart.

"you've got to be fucking kidding me," i muttered, my voice shaking with anger. "i'm not doing that. i don't need some random guy to boost my career. i'm doing fine on my own."

simon's smirk didn't waver. "you don't have a choice."

that was it. i snapped. i shot up from my chair, fists clenched at my sides, practically seeing red. "what the fuck do you mean i don't have a choice? i'm not some goddamn puppet you can parade around for your little pr stunts. i have a fucking life, simon. i'm not doing this."

simon stayed calm, which only pissed me off more. he stood up slowly, walking around his desk until he was standing right in front of me. "don't make this harder than it has to be," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "remember what you signed when you started this. you're under contract. and if you don't play along, there are things i can let slip to the press that wouldn't look so good for you."

my heart dropped. i knew exactly what he meant. my hands, my body, my eating disorder, my scars, my struggles—he somehow knew about all of it, and he was threatening to use it against me.

i stared at him, my breath catching in my throat. he wouldn't. he couldn't. but the look in his eyes told me he would.

"fuck you," i spat, my voice shaking with fury. but i knew i didn't have a choice. he had me trapped.

"watch your mouth," simon said calmly, as if this was all just business. "you'll go along with this, and in december, when we renegotiate, we can talk about your contract. but until then, you do what i say."

i couldn't believe it. i wanted to scream, to throw something, to tell him to fuck off and walk out the door, but i couldn't. he had me right where he wanted me. "fine," i muttered through gritted teeth. "i'll do it. but this isn't over."

"good girl," simon said with a sickening smile. "now go, you've got other things to do today."

i stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. my heart was racing, my whole body shaking with rage. i couldn't believe what had just happened. i couldn't believe i had to go through with this. but i knew what i had to do.

for now, i could deal with the stupid pr relationship. i had no choice.

next stop: dance class. i needed to burn off this anger, and i knew madeline would get it. she always did. madeline, myla, and i—we were a trio. the kind of friends who balanced each other out perfectly.

i was the angry one, the sarcastic one. myla was calm, the one who always tried to smooth things over, keep the peace. and madeline? madeline was the one who got even angrier than i did. that's what i loved about her. she never tried to calm me down; she just got pissed right along with me.

when i got to the studio, madeline was already stretching. she took one look at me and knew something was up. "what happened?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"simon," i muttered, dropping my bag on the floor. "he's trying to force me into some bullshit pr relationship with this actor—timothée chalomay or some shit. i have no fucking clue who he is."

madeline's face darkened. "you've got to be kidding me."

"i wish i was," i said, pacing back and forth. "he fucking threatened me, mads. said if i didn't do it, he'd tell the press about... you know."

madeline's jaw clenched. "that fucking bastard."

"i know," i growled. "but what the hell am i supposed to do? i'm trapped until december. he's got me by the throat."

madeline stood up, her hands balled into fists. "we'll figure something out. but first, let's dance. you need to burn off some of that rage."

i nodded. she was right. for now, all i could do was dance and try to forget about the mess simon had thrown me into. i'd figure it out eventually. i always did. but right now, i just needed to let go.

𝐚𝐯𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬!

i promised a chapter yesterday but my after school nap turned into a sleep