Living in London

Number withheld

PREVIOUSLY ON LIVING IN LONDON

"This isn't working out."

"Did I do something? Because I didn't mean to do anything to hurt you. I'm sorry if I-"

"Don't you get it?" Harry snapped. His tone stung and he looked furious. I, on the other hand, was beyond confused. "It wasn't real for me."

"What are you talking about?"

"It wasn't real for me," he repeated. "You mean nothing."

"But... yesterday..." I began, my voice small and shaky, "you told me you love me."

"I lied! One Direction needed a charity case. You were just convenient."

"You bastard!" I shouted, jumping off the counter and shoving Harry roughly in the chest. He stumbled back a bit but his resolve held. "You knew! You knew what I had been through with Christian and then you used me like that! How could you?"

"Like it made a difference," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes and angering me further. Hot tears had run down my cheeks and I felt like being sick. I couldn't believe this.

"It made a huge difference! You made me think that maybe not all guys were bad! That maybe Christian was just a terrible person, but you proved me wrong Harry! You're all exactly the same as each other! I should have stayed with Zayn," I spat, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.

Harry laughed. "You actually think Zayn cared about you? I didn't realize you were so naive! None of us do! The boys, Danielle, even Eleanor didn't care!"

I shoved past the boys in the doorway. Someone caught my arm and span me around. It was Zayn.

"Wait, Ariadne! It's not true! Don't liste-"

I ripped my arm out of his grip. "Don't touch me," I spat before turning on my heel and stalked down the hallway. This time no-one tried to stop me.

---

This morning my eyes were red-rimmed but not at all puffy like I'd expected them to be. I'd decided on a plan for today: avoid the boys in the hotel, avoid the boys at the concert, avoid the boys afterwards. I wasn't going to let them see how much they'd hurt me. The more I thought about Liam's words, the angrier they made me. How stupid do they think I am? Why do they continue to try and convince me that Harry does- or ever did- love me. I'm not going to be the one who comes crawling back.

I packed the usual things into my tote bag-tissues, makeup wipes, a box of bobby-pins and hair ties, lip balm and deodorant. This morning, however, I threw in some face wash so I could clean my skin again before I had my makeup done. That could be my excuse for my red eyes.

I'd made a point of waking up extra early as to avoid the boys. I figured if I left the hotel at an ungodly hour, they would be asleep rather than lurking the halls. So that is exactly what I did.

With a quick glance at the clock on the wall, I saw that it was only 6:15am. Sliding sunglasses over my eyes, I opened my door as quietly as possible and backed out of my room. The door clicked closed, locking itself and I turned around, straight into someone.

"Sorry, ma'am," the cleaning lady said in a hushed voice. The mini-heart attack I just experienced had subsided and I was able to breathe again. For a minute I thought it was a member of a certain boy band down the hall. "We don't usually see people up this early."

"Early riser," I lied with a shrug and a smile, heading in the other direction.

I managed to make it to the closest Starbucks and wait patiently at the counter. When my chai latte was ready, I collapsed into one of the seats and pulled out my phone, my eyes getting heavy as I scrolled through my twitter.