Loving Oliver

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ０２ Ｌｏｖｉｎｇ ｔｈｅ Ｖｉｅｗ】

TRIGGER WARNING:

THERE IS TALK OF EATING DISORDERS, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, TRIGGERS,DRUG USE AND SELF HARM. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BE VERY MINDFUL WHILE CONSIDERING IF YOU ARE IN THE FRAME OF MIND TO READ THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER. YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS IMPORTANT. YOU ARE IMPORTANT. IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED, THAT IS OKAY BUT THIS CHAPTER IS NOT FOR YOU AT THIS TIME. PLEASE IF THESE TOPICS TRIGGER YOU PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER. YOU MATTER. LET'S UNITE AND BE MINDFUL TOGETHER.

Chapter 02 Loving the View

Sleep last night was per usual. Which meant virtually no sleep. The tossing and turning spun the regret inside me like a washer machine on the spin cycle. I couldn't calm down the feelings that built upside of me. I kept thinking about moving away from Oliver and our summer plans and future together.

We had so many plans for our senior year and after the accident they had all been destroyed. Out of all the things that had been destroyed it was the lesser of two evils, but it was still gut-wrenching. Then my thoughts turned to the worse about never seeing Oliver again because of his vindictive mother and after that there was no getting any sleep. I spent the last two hours I was supposed to be sleeping reading articles, if you could call them that, about me and my coke habit.

About how it was expected of me as a teen model and that I was just another teen celebrity in need of a major visit to rehab. I had to put it down after the fourth article. But then I took to Instagram to find my brother's account. His account was set to private, but he was still following me.

I didn't realize he had been following me with the million other followers I had, and I felt guilty about that. I never followed him or tried to attempt any sort of relationship with him because, well I guess I had become so busy with mom, work, and then became involved with Oliver that I kind of let whatever connection I had with my brother fall away.

I knew nothing of him and yet here he was following along with my life on Instagram. I scroll through his followers (57 to be exact) and then I see his profile picture of him wiping down a bar smiling. It looks like it's a candid and I can admit the shot looks great. He looks genuinely happy and for some reason that makes me sad. I don't know why but I try not to focus on his smile for too long or his short brown hair that looks like just the same shade as my own. I never noticed that we looked alike. I never noticed we had a dimple in the same cheek until this profile picture.

Before longing my cell phone alarm interrupts my Instagram browsing and I reluctantly drag my ass out of bed and snatch my clothes heading to my ensuite before starting my day.

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Arriving at JFK was anxiety inducing at the very least. I knew mom booking me coach was her way of "trying" to have me literally fly under the radar but given the amount of pap at the airport that surrounded my hired car was telling a different story. I could only hope that security would stop them from following me to checkin.

I hop down out of the giant black SUV and onto the curb for my airline as the driver assists me with my luggage. Thanking him, I move to grab my suitcase and purse before sliding my sunglasses over my eyes. They're like a protective shield between myself and the vicious words slung my way.

"Parker, Parker! How long have you been snuffing coke?"

"Parker, you know if you wanted to lose weight there are plenty of diets you could follow."

"Parker which rehab did your mother choose?"

"Parker do you have any other drugs of choice?"

"Parker are you worried about modeling for the upcoming season?"