Hate

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Usually you're fine. 

Usually you'd brush it off and be okay, let it all go over your head like water off a duck's back. You'd switch off your phone and forget the online world.

But not today. 

It started out as a normal day, you're an online junkie so you love posting photos on Instagram and tweeting about life. You love creating content to upload and although there have always been people who post hate comments, for the most part, everyone is lovely. You'd built up a little following of sweet, kind hearted people who enjoyed what you posted.

That all changed when you started dating Shawn. You'd received a lot of online recognition and at first, you'd been flattered. But soon the flattery turned into hate, nasty comments about the way you looked, dressed, walked, smiled. About everything.

You'd taken all of it with a pinch of salt, you understood how people felt, after all, you're dating their favourite, of course they're going to be jealous. Honestly, you would be too.

You'd got used to the mean comments, either deleting them or blocking the person off your feed if they constantly sent hate.

However, today is different.

You'd recently taken a break to Miami for a long weekend with some friends. You'd be working hard on your figure but you still felt self conscious in a bikini. 

Your friends had all taken a group photo in their beach stuff so you'd posed with them in your cute little two piece. After the photo was taken, you'd immediately wanted to delete yourself from it. 

All of your friends had told you not to worry, that you looked gorgeous but you didn't see it that way. You felt ugly compared to your friends and it hurt. After a few persuasive messages from Shawn and a whole lot of debating (it had taken several days of thinking how hideous you look to remembering that comparing yourself to others isn't healthy), you'd realised that you did look dang cute in that bikini and you're beautiful in your own way, without comparison.

So, finally today, you'd plucked up the courage, swallowed the fear and posted it online. Hesitantly you'd wondered if it was a mistake but Shawn had encouraged you to be proud of yourself and the way you look.

Yep, you totally regret pressing post.

Sitting in your apartment bathroom, you hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. 

Ugly. Slut. Gross. Bitch.

The comments are endless, only ever interrupted by one or two nice ones. But even then, the bad ones outweigh the good ones. Your heart sinks as your scroll further, only making everything worse. 

"Y/N?" 

You hear the front door click and you hold back the sobs that are bubbling in your chest. 

"In here." You croak out between hiccups and tears. Using your hoodie sleeve to wipe your cheeks, you try and compose yourself. It's useless though, you're a puffy, watery mess.

The bathroom door creaks open and Shawn pops his head around. He's in a grey sweatshirt and jeans. Seeing his sweet, handsome face makes you cry all over again.

His smile quickly turns to a frown and he sits beside you, clasping your hands in his big ones, rubbing his thumb soothingly over your knuckles. Your tears slide down your cheeks and make the collar of your hoodie wet. As one escapes your eye, Shawn catches it with his finger and brushes it away.

"What's wrong babe?"

You shake your head, feeling ridiculous for even telling him that haters are the reason for your tears.

"They're- they're just so mean, calling me names when I had the courage to post a photo of myself. All they ever do is tear me down."

He pulls you closer, resting his chin on your head and rubs your back in slow circles. You cry into his sweatshirt, making it damp on the front.

"I know it hurts baby girl, but you have to remember that they're jealous and you're not any of the stupid names they call you. They're insecure in themselves. But you, you're beautiful, strong, smart and kind. And most of all, you're mine."

He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, hugging him tightly.


Lol this one feels a bit lame but it's cute- V xo


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