Black & White (Colorful Sequel | H.S)|✔️

Epilogue

Cough, cough. Last chapter.

~

"Oh good, you're here."

I look at Daffodil sprawled out on a yellow yoga mat and resist the urge to snort. She's still my boss and as much as I don't need the money, I'd still like to be employed. It beats sitting at home doing nothing.

"I'm just letting you know I'm heading out," I say firmly, mentally patting myself on the back. Ever since Harry and I got a cute little penthouse a few blocks away, we both swore to each other to not work late unless it was a total emergency. The rule applied to me more than him, but he really held me to it.

"Well, this won't take long. Sit down, you're making me feel small."

I hesitate, alternating between the chair and the floor. Eventually, I say fuck it and sit cross-legged on the floor. Daff pays me no mind as she continues her weird stretching.

"I have a model and her birthday is coming up."

"Okay... and?" I ask, unsure as to where this is going.

"I have a doubt she's leaving me for another M.U.A so I need to convince her to stay."

Then it clicks. "So you want to throw a party for her?"

"Yes, a surprise party." She sits up and tightens her bun before looking at me in all seriousness. "This is important, Elizabeth. Can you handle this by yourself?"

"Yes! God, yes. I just need some details and I'll have it all set up."

She waves a dismissive hand before laying on her back and bringing her knees to her chest. "No need. Just throw something that you would enjoy."

I blink. Did I just hear her right?

"Daff," I laugh, looking at her in a bewildered manner. "You can't possibly expect me to plan a party for someone I know nothing about. I just need her name and I'll figure out the details."

"Nope. If word gets out she's having a party, it'll spoil the surprise. With your publicity, it'll be a manner of hours. Just plan the party and if you're really stuck, come to me. Other than that, I expect you to handle this by yourself and without getting the paparazzi involved."

I make an annoyed face. She acts like I'm being chased down the streets by cameras. It's hardly like that.

Months ago, when Harry announced that I was his soulmate through a music video, I had a lot of media attention on me. I swear I did more interviews than had hours of sleep. Harry was by my side the entire time, which made it just bearable. It was overwhelming at times, but Harry's method was perfection. Once his fans saw how totally in love we were, they grew a soft spot for me.

Don't get me wrong, it hasn't been a smooth ride. He's had more than one pregnancy scandal, and an occasional sixteen-year-old still feels like she has a claim on him, but overall I haven't been brutally ripped to shreds and I think that's a good thing.

After two months, the hype died down and the paps no longer invaded our privacy. Sure, there'd be an occasional picture when I ran down to the corner store in sweatpants and a cheeto strained shirt, but I could live with a few bad pictures. Now they're basically gone, only capturing us at events. It's a relief, to say the least.

"Okay, you're free to go. Start thinking about that party. It's happening next Saturday."

I stand up to leave, then backtrack. "SATURDAY?!"

She nods.

"You're giving me a week to plan a party for someone I know nothing about?"

"Ellie, just decorate how you'd like. She's not picky. She's very... bubble-headed."