FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

TWENTY-EIGHT.

MAY, 2019.

I'm fucking miserable.

It's the day of Met Gala. And I'm not going. Because I'm in bed, recovering. I've lacked the appropriate amount of energy to actually get up and attend this social event. One that could have definitely given me more exposure.

River found a new date in a heartbeat. She's some model. Blonde and thin and angelic and so sweet, I can't be mad. He seemed awfully excited to be attending with her.

They're at a hotel together, getting ready with their stylists and hairdressers. I would be the biggest hypocrite in the world if I got upset over him doing anything with her. At this point I didn't care anymore.

I'm basically just stuck with him.

My body hurts. My heart hurts. My head hurts. I want to feel okay again yet all I feel is empty and tired and broken. Like it's just an endless cycle of pain.

I've been debating leaving. Just packing everything up and disappearing. Not calling. Just me lost in the world.

Maybe never coming back.

I have too many priorities here, though. A show premiere in a month and NYFW later that same month. Not to mention I have my family here. And Blair.

Oh, Blair.

Bless her soul.

She's been nothing but a saint to me. After I broke down in front of her and told her everything, she just held me close and cried along with me.

She came with me to the clinic and held my hand the whole time. And she hasn't left my side since.

She's carrying a tray of tea into my room as I think about this. When she enters, she sends me a small smile as she places it down by my feet on the bed.

"Who needs a Met Gala?" She jokes as she crawls under the covers with me.

My eyes are glued to my phone, scrolling through the Twitter hashtag of it.

"They look good. He looks happy." I comment.

Blair takes my phone, "He's just as happy with you."

"Sure he is." I mutter.

It's silent for a moment as I sip my tea. Blair fiddles with her bracelets during this silence.

"I pray for you a lot." She blurts out.

"What?" I turn to her.

Nodding, she exhales, "I pray for your happiness. I pray that one day you get the wedding of your dreams with the man of your dreams and you have kids who speak French and like art and fashion. I pray you're finally happy and content. Not whatever the hell this is right now."

Tears well up in my eyes as I process each word she speaks to me. I rest my head on her shoulder and she laughs, tears rolling down her face as well now.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, B." I whisper.

Her hand drops to my knee and squeezes.

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."

We fall asleep like that. Frankly, it was the best sleep I've gotten in a long time. Too bad Blair's phone had to rip it away from me.

It's ringing loud against the bedside table. She stirs awake, groaning in annoyance as she tiredly reaches over to pick it up.

"Hello?" She groggily answers.

I can hear frantic talking on the other line. It sounds like Zendaya yelling over a crowd.