They Don't Know About Us (H.S.)

Chapter 5

I scrolled through the endless happy birthday tweets, trying to favorite as many as possible. I favorited one more, "Happy birthday queen!" and put my phone down before I saw any angry Harry stans throwing me hate on my birthday. I remembered when Katy and I were younger and we had been the same way: seeing one of our idols dating someone new (not that Harry and I were dating, but that's what was being spread around, and many people were believing it) and instantly sending them empty death threats just at the thought of someone other than us being close to them. That day, reading the tweets, I thought back to this and guiltily regretted all of it. I now knew how it felt. The people we would tweet - they were actual people, not just some public figure. They're real people with real feelings.

I was at least relieved to see that not everyone on there hated me after the pictures of Harry and me. I had never seen so many harsh words typed in my direction before. I now knew to stay away from Harry, or else they'd always be after me. Now I understood his distance. But it wasn't like he was getting any of the hate for being with me... all of the tweets were in favor of protecting him and telling me to back off. I stayed in my own tour bus on the ride and then walked directly up to my new hotel room without talking to anyone, especially Harry. I didn't even look at him. I spent the night in my room trying and failing to hold back my tears from some of the words I had seen online. But the tweets were like the cliché comparison to a car crash: it was so horrible that I couldn't look away. I read and read and read all of the messages I was receiving and cried all alone in my room.

Harry had texted me at one point the night before: Are you doing okay? xx

I didn't answer. I don't know why I hadn't answered, but I hadn't.

I got off my bed, still thinking about it all. Performing last night had definitely been the opposite of how good it was a few nights ago. It was clear everyone in the audience had read everything online - all of the fake rumors about what had happened with me and Harry. It was incredible how much could blow up in the media. Harry and I had simply walked into a cab, and now we were... in love? It was such bullshit. We were just friends. And even if they hadn't read about that, they had seen the pictures, and there was no denying how drunk I looked in them. So I was also getting shit for underage drinking (which I guessed I deserved, considering all eyes were now on me and I should have known better). On the bright side, as of today, they could no longer penalize me for drinking as I was now 21.

It had been a pretty tough day. We didn't have a show tonight, but we had both gone to some interviews, and I was relieved at first when the interviewers talked mainly about my album, but then of course they asked about Harry. I was completely exhausted from dodging questions about him. I didn't know how he was so good at that. But I guess that about eight years in the spotlight will train you well. Reporters were now even following me through the streets - something I'd never experienced for myself yet, but I knew Harry got that all the time. How did he deal with that?

Harry. I hadn't actually talked to him since that morning in his hotel room. My heart sunk at this thought. This had been my fault, though, as I'd been avoiding him ever since the blow up over the pictures.

I just wanted to go home, see my mom and dad, see my dog, see Katy....

I headed to the bathroom of my new hotel room where I had all my makeup stashed. Turning on some Camila Cabello, I swept a glittery white eyeshadow over my lid and then a dark, dark blue in the crease of my eyelid. I contoured my face, making my cheekbones shine with my new highlighter. Doing my makeup always made me feel better for some reason, more confident. Like I could hide who I really was behind this mask. My hips danced to Camila's "Havana" as I applied my mascara, almost completely ready to go the party Monica was throwing in her hotel room for my birthday. There would be alcohol - it was my 21st - but everyone knew how I was feeling about the pictures spreading around, so we all planned to not go out to a bar just yet. It would only feed whatever rumors were swimming around the public.