Lights. Camera. PDA. (HS // au)

You're insecure, don't know what for

Savannah

I pace around nervously in my room as I wait for Gary to tell me the final outcome of the meeting. Harry has already called me multiple times to make sure I was alright, considering that I almost had a mental breakdown yesterday.

Why would Timothy think that I would neglect my job if I'm in a relationship? He saw my resume, he definitely saw all the recommendation letters from my teachers. He literally scrutinized me from head to toe when I met him, and now he has doubts that I would be so stupid as to overshadow something that I have dreamt about my entire life.

Not once did he mention his concern that Harry might neglect his acting if he's involved with me. What, just because he's a boy so he can't get distracted from his work because of a relation?

See, this is why we need feminism. Ugh!

I tie my hair in a ponytail and then untie it due to frustration. Scratching my head, I sit on the corner of my bed and close my eyes.

I really do not want to lose this internship. I worked day and night to get it, and to work for Harry has been the cherry on top of the cake. I just hope Gary convinces him.

Yesterday when Harry told me, I literally felt like the air had been sucked out of me. I could actually see my dream being crushed into nothing. I'm really just gonna contradict what I just said that we need feminism, but if Harry wasn't there to comfort me, I don't know what I would've done.

I hate to admit it, but him being there and assuring me that everything will be alright actually made me feel slightly better.

The whole day went by a blur as I was trying to digest the possibility of loosing the internship. Sam tried to make some conversation with me but I don't remember a word she said, probably because I was too busy trying to focus on my breathing.

But well, at least I was able to pick out clothes for Harry. I'm glad that even though my mind was too preoccupied the whole day, I managed to change Harry's dressing three times.

What if someone wrote a negative remark on my evaluation sheet? What if I messed up? What if-

For the love of God, shut up!

I press my palms against my face and groan, falling back on the bed. Please, please, pleeeeaaase let everything be okay.

I also made the mistake of checking Twitter yesterday. My account, which had near to nil followers, with Hazel being the most active, has more than 5000 followers now.

And not just that, I received more than 10,000 tweets in the span of just two days.

Guess what most of them are about? Hate.

I pick up my phone and scroll through some of the feed, yet again.

"What the hell does Harry see in her??"

That's one tweet with a picture of me attached in which I'm making a weird face; my eyes wide and my mouth opened. It's from the day when Harry and I were having shakes and he accidentally dumped some on my thigh, thus making my eyes wide and opening my mouth.

But why would anyone care why I had that expression? All they want is a snap of me looking like a retard so that they can judge me on the basis of that and compare it with Harry.

I roll my eyes. As if he can't be a dork and retard and idiot at times.