Press Coverage

1: What I Hate The Most

Delilah Crestine's POV

I can hear you. That's what I wanna scream until my lungs burn and feel like they are about to rip apart. That's what I wanna scream until no one can hear there own thoughts. That's what I wanna scream until everyone forgets what silence ever sounded like.

That what I wanna scream until I realize the voices that I hear talking about me are my imagination. That's what I want to scream until I realize that they are the voices of the people that tug me out of sleep. That is when my voice comes out, barely above a whisper to say what I wanna say to the people that cause me nightmares every night.

I can hear you.

The problem with that is I am the only one that can hear those voices. All anyone else hears is the clicking of mouses, and everyone typing away on keyboards.

Keyboards.

Keyboards have letters.

Letters that form words. Words that form sentences. Sentences that form paragraphs. Paragraphs that form pages that form books that form my heart into an anchor weighing me down and at the same making me a balloon where all I want is to fly away.

To grow wings and soar away from all of my problems all of the things that happened just months back. All of the things that happened with th--

With that I am cut off of my thoughts by a voice. A real voice. The voice of my boss who is telling me I have a job to do.

She is telling me to stop editing the photo I've been editing for over an hour to look like Robert Pattinson is doing drugs and go get some photos.

"Delilah! Great news!" I honestly doubt it. "Ed Sheeran is in town and apparently he is on a date, at least that's what we're going to try and make people think." Shelby says.

I nod and fakely smile before quietly muttering, "Who do we want him to be on a date with?" Shelby looks thoughtful now, as if truly pondering my words. As if that is the most important question I've ever asked. I already know her answer, it's always the same. She'll tell me to decide and then shoo me off and say 'An opportunity like this doesn't last! RUN!'

"Oh, you know what. Anyone your little heart desires! Just make sure it's realistic, okay? Now go, GO! Don't wanna miss this! This opportunity won't last forever you know!"

And So I go.

I sigh and quickly grab my purse and coat before rushing out of my cubicle. As usual my camera is strapped protectively around my neck.

I rush to the elevator yelling for Edward to keep it open for me.

He does. He was one of them, we don't speak. We don't look at each other. He knows which floor, he doesn't have to ask. If he were to even think about speaking to me, I don't know what would happen.

So we descend in silence as others in the elevator chatter on.

I run as fast as I can when I step out of that elevator. I hate it, feeling this way. Knowing that he blames himself just like I blame myself. We both think the other is wrong for blaming ourselves. This is why I like to avoid all of them.

Yet, I can never get away from all of them. All 17 of them because they're all at my work place, with me everyday.

First Clue.

As I ran outside I hopped into one of the magazine vans parked in the lot. Seeing that I was the last one out of the 4 person crew we had set up for this job and the other 3 had been waiting for me for the past 5 minutes we almost immediately sped off.

ED SHEERAN'S POV

I sigh trying to relax for once and have a nice meal. That obviously won't happen.