They met at the wrong time under the wrong circumstances, in a world that was not theirs. They had no choice but to move on from each other.
Five years later, Griffin Walker and Harry Styles meet again. How will it end this time?
LOVE BUILT ON LIE...
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GRIFFIN E. WALKER March, 2020
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
On my day off, I slept in and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the balcony, painting away. There were some decisions to be made on my end but my head felt too heavy, my thoughts too intertwined and so, the only way out was picking up a brush and inhaling the smell of paint for hours on end. It calmed me down and blocked out things that only made me worry more. Eventually, at a gradual pace, things started to creep in and some decisions were made.
Funnily enough, most of it had to do with one certain individual. The one who was behind my inspiration to pick up the paint brush again. Yes, it's true. My cousin knew that when it happened. Still to this day, he never confirmed his theory regarding it but with time, it dawned on me. When Harry and I started hanging out, the paint, the canvas, the brushes made an appearance. Even though it had been five years, whenever I lifted the colour from the palette onto the canvas, his face still appeared. Yet I never stopped painting.
My day after was filled with seeing people. It really did tire me out, the constant interacting and smiling it required. True effort. It made me miss the times I was a student, having the comfort of going home after class and not seeing or speaking to anyone as long as I had to leave for a few hours again. Even if going out now meant meeting up with friends—it was Ollie, he had some exciting news to share with me regarding his engagement which was the most shocking news he could've dropped on me—it was still something that sucked the life out of me. Lately, there was not a lot of that in me.
Could this be the adult life? Does it really have to be so draining and depressing? If so, let me trade it for writing essays forty-eight hours before they are due.
Work was work. Ever since the meeting with the investors, I felt out of my comfort zone. I felt like I entered a territory that was dangerous, one where lifting my pinky a millimetre higher than it is accepted could gain me cold stares and a gun barrel pressed to the back of my head. Meeting the big bosses left me with a random car sitting across the road from the apartment for days. It scared the living shit out of me as I frantically dialled Rachel's number and demanded to know what the fuck was happening. It couldn't have been a simple coincidence that some random vehicle parked itself right outside my window the day after I met people who could have me ruined. It led us to an argument because the car outside was there for my protection, installed there by Rachel and her family. She tried to reassure me that there are guards around their house, too but it did the opposite. It annoyed me even more.
We were on the outs. I made sure to plan my days at the club when she wouldn't be there. We had an online calendar where everything was updated as things happened. If she changed her schedule around, I saw. I changed mine after hers. It may have been petty of me, childish and a form of overreaction. After all, she was looking out for me. My issue was that she did not talk to me about this. There was no mention of me needing protection after meeting investors. There was no need.
