Stupid Dreamers

Chapter 10: A Bad Day

Chapter 10: A Bad Day

Back to Erin’s P.O.V.

I didn’t feel any better when I woke up this morning.  I was completely exhausted from last night, both from fighting with Harry and the premiere itself. Events like those can really tire you out.  But I didn’t feel the urge to cut, for now. Good thing I took care of that last night.

The small, gray digital clock on my nightstand read 7:00, making me immediately groan. Why did I have to wake up this early? I shouldn’t have to today; I shouldn’t have any planned events to get up early for. Perhaps I should take advantage of it and just get up and go get some coffee like a normal person. I decided that that’s what I will do to clear my head a little and to just walk around London.  

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, unlocking it to check if Powell sent me any messages about an event that he never told me that was going on.  This was one of the last days I wanted to be social, so I better not have anything planned. I didn’t want to answer any questions or pose for any photos. If I’m stopped on the street by fans, I’d do it for them. For the Paparazzi? Not so much.

I toss the covers off of my body and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My eyes peer down to my bare thighs, where the five cuts from last night were covered in small Band-Aids. They didn’t hurt when I pressed down on one of them, but then again, I’m used to it.  No one would notice these if I wore jeans. I had to anyways; it’s the middle of November in London.  That would also give me the excuse to cover up my arms.  

After I took a short yet hot shower, I dried off changed into a pair of dark blue skinny jeans then slipped on a simple black sweater. I brushed my hair out, letting it frame my face and applied a small bit of black eye liner. I pulled out one of the necklaces that Rick gave to me for my birthday one year; a medium-sized silver and blue star that hung low over my chest. I slipped a grey beanie over my hair and took one last look at myself in my bathroom mirror.  

I was no longer that beautiful, strong, and powerful girl from last night. I was just me, a disliked slutty celebrity about to walk through the streets of London.

This should be fun.

I made sure that everything was back in its own place so I could find it later and made my bed quickly.  I stuck my phone in my back pocket and scavenged through one of my suitcases for my sunglasses.  It wasn’t bright enough for them, but they’d give me the capability to hide me from the public eye. After I slipped on my short brown leather boots and my sunglasses, I was out walking into the cool winter air of London.

It actually felt nice to be here again, even if I’ve been here tons of times for premieres and movie sets.  It’s just nice to think to yourself ‘Hey, I’m in London’ when most of the people here think nothing of it.

When I reached the heart of London, I peered down the long street consisting of a bunch of shops, restaurants, and hopefully a coffee shop. As I started walking down one of the sidewalks, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, making me instantly panicked and thinking it was Powell telling me we had an interview or press conference or something that I wasn’t prepared or reminded of. I don’t even read the caller I.D. as I answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” A deep, husky voice answers me.  Phew, it’s just Rick. He sounded really tired and exhausted when he answered.  Why has it taken him so long to actually call me?

“Hey Rick, how’s a going?” I greet him.

“Tired, very tired,” He answers. “But this is one of the only times I can call you since you’re awake,”