“Chapter One”
Word Count: 6.7k
(Chapter one to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)
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Sitting in my makeup chair, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror. The bright bulbs surrounding it are causing me to squint a bit. My usual hair stylist wasn't able to make it out to LA for this show, and I wasn't upset about that. She had a family emergency, and for me, friends and family came before anything for those around me. The woman behind me, whose name I learned was Lisa, was just finishing up the curls she was putting into my hair. She was middle aged from what I could see, and she could style the hell out of some hair. I had just gotten my wolf cut shaped for this specific show since it was the last one of my current tour, and she couldn't stop complimenting me on how much it suited me.
After this, I will be taking a break to work on a new album here in LA. I've purchased a house and had a recording installed so that I'll be able to work there instead of traveling around. Although my parents didn't live here anymore, this was still the place I considered home. I left almost two years ago when I got signed to my record label, and it's been almost three years since I've actually been back.
As much as I had tried to deny it, there was a part of me that had avoided LA on the two other tours I've gone on before this one. I wasn't ready to face the people here who knew me, and most of all, I don't know how I would act if I were to see him.
I went through a few years of therapy to get over the emotional turmoil I went through after Harry and I's friendship ended. It was necessary. I avoided human contact with anyone but my parents for almost a whole year because of it, and I finally took the step at finding a therapist - forcing myself to make the appointments for a few months until I actually started to look forward to it.
It's been almost a year since the last appointment with my therapist, the both of us deciding that I no longer needed to be seen on a monthly basis as I had been. We agreed that I could reach out to her when needed, and she assured me that she would be available any day and any time.
"Alright, since I'm finished with your hair, I'm gonna go grab your girl to finish up your makeup, okay?" Lisa asks, and I give her a nod.
"Yes, thank you so much for doing this last minute. I really appreciate you."
"Of course, sweetheart."
She gives me a squeeze to my shoulder as she exits the room, and I sigh as I grab my pack of cigarettes off the vanity. I slip one between my lips, lighting it up as I stare at myself in the mirror once again. It looks like the only things I have left for my makeup is eyeshadow, lashes and lips, and I know those won't take too long since the base of everything is already set.
I take a drag of my cigarette, flicking the ash into the tray in front of me. Pulling my bottom lip through my teeth, I keep the stick between my fingers as I rub the tip of my thumb over one of my brows out of stress.
There were going to be people here tonight that I haven't seen in years. I knew that by keeping my real name instead of choosing a stage name that as soon as I decided to come home that it would bring attention. I wasn't famous on a large scale by any means, but I did have a decent following, and this current tour has opened a lot of new doors for me.
I had invited Mikey and Kailey considering I'd kept up with them pretty regularly over the years, but they both were busy tonight with their jobs. I've actually flown the both of them out to a few shows, and at first I was worried that the both of them would be offended that I got a whole new band to back me up instead of them, but they understood why I didn't. That would feel too much like having the band without him, and that was just something I couldn't ever bring myself to do.
I've only ever brought him up once, and it was to Kailey after the third show I flew her out to. She said she wanted to talk to me about it as well, but she didn't know how to bring it up. He was still in the area, that was for sure from things that Kailey had heard, but she had only ever seen him twice since everything happened.
The first time was at a gas station and he was grabbing a pack of cigarettes, however, he didn't see her. The second time was at a house party she was invited to, and Harry was just showing up as she was leaving. She told me that he was already pretty drunk from what she could tell, and they made eye contact, but he immediately looked away and kept making his way into the party. She told me that Mikey hasn't heard or seen him at all.
"Sorry, sorry, I was finishing my dinner."
I'm brought out of my thoughts as I see Christy, my makeup artist, come rounding in front of me. "Okay, so just a few things left, Marls," she says, eyes scanning over my face before giving herself a nod.
I take a few more quick drags of my cigarette before snuffing it out.
Christy begins to apply some primer to my lids before shuffling through some of the palettes she brought with her. "Since your outfit is a dark creme and black color scheme, I think I'm going to go with a darker lid, what do you think?"
"Yeah, yeah," I nod, clearing my throat before looking back at myself in the mirror. "That sounds good to me. I trust you, you always take care of me."
Christy stands back in front of me and sends me a smile as I close my eyes, allowing her to work her magic. My hands were slightly clutching to the arms of the makeup chair as I felt the bristles of the makeup brush on my lids.
It's quiet between the two of us for a while before Christy speaks up. "You're a little more nervous than I'm used to seeing," she comments. "Are you nervous about potentially seeing..."
Christy has been my makeup artist for the last two and half years, and within that time, I've opened up to her a lot about things in my personal life. Other than my manager, she's probably the person I confide in the most while on the road, and sometimes even off of it. I try my best not to bother either of them when we're taking a break from touring, and they're back at home with their families, but both of them have assured me time and time again that I'm not doing that when I reach out.
"A little bit, yeah," I confess, licking over my bottom lip. "But I also don't think that he'll come. He probably doesn't even remember at this point."
I can hear Christy sigh, and I feel the brush fall from my skin for a moment. My eyes flutter open to see her staring down at me - head tilted to the side.
"Now you and I both know that you don't actually believe that for a second."
Scowling slightly, I cross my arms and slouch in my chair. "No, I don't. You have to understand that it's easier for me to think that way though than to think he does remember me, and that he hasn't reached out at all."
"Trust me, I definitely get that," Christy says with a nod, and I close my eyes again to let her continue. "But I also don't think it's completely fair to yourself to just say he's forgotten you. I highly doubt that he has."
"Who knows at this point though? Literally no one I still speak to has actually talked to him. I have nothing to go on."
Christy remains silent as she finishes my eye makeup, and she continues to not speak as she applies my lashes. I'm sure she's stopped speaking on the subject to keep me from getting even more nervous than I already am.
As she starts to work on my red lips, I see the door open in the mirror.
"You have fifteen minutes before you're on, Marlowe," Lys, my manager, says as she pokes her head into my dressing room. "Do you need any help getting into your dress?"
I shake my head once Christy pulls the lip product she was using away for a moment to give me a chance to respond. "No, I've got it. Thank you though."
Lys nods, but instead of stepping out, she makes her way into the room, standing behind me as Christy finishes up on my lips. She places her hands on my shoulders, massaging them softly as we make eye contact through the mirror.
"You've got this. I know this is your first hometown show, and that it probably feels extremely stressful for you right now, but just remember what you always say before each and every show - you won't be able to see past at least the fourth row because of the lights, these people are here to see you because they already love your music, and you wouldn't be up on that stage to begin with if you weren't immensely talented."
Christy moves away for a moment, before she stands back in front of me with some setting spray. I close my eyes and feel the product misting my skin, and then I feel air fanning against it as Christy dries it by waving her hands in front of my face.
"All done, and looking as beautiful as ever," she says, reaching down to grab my hands.
With the both of them making contact with me, it does help me ground myself a little bit. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath as I give Christy's hands a squeeze.
"Thank you guys so much, seriously," I tell them, blinking my eyes back open. I shift in my chair a bit so I can look at the both of them, Lys moving both of her hands to drape over one of my shoulders. "I don't know what I would do without the both of you."
"Crash and burn, probably is what I'd say, " Lys says with a shrug, looking over to Christy. "What do you think?"
"Oh absolutely," Christy agrees with a nod.
I roll my eyes before popping up out of my chair, walking over to my dressing room door. Gripping the doorknob on my hand, I gesture my other hand through the door frame.
"Now, if you lovely ladies would be so kind, I have to get changed," I tell them.
Lys sticks her tongue out at me playfully as Christy gathers her makeup supplies, and they both file out of the room. I strip off the robe I had been wearing, leaving me in just my bra and underwear underneath.
Making my way over to the hanger on the rack, I pull off the fishnets that were hanging through the middle of it and pull them onto my legs with a pair of black cheeky shorts over them - just in case my dress flies up for any reason on stage. I slip on my dress after that, thankful that the zipper was on the side so I could actually manage this myself.
It wasn't that I didn't want the help, but I just needed some silence before going out on that stage. Things never end well for me if it tends to get too loud, and I had a fear of that happening if I didn't give myself some alone time tonight.
After I sit down on the couch, I pull on the shoes that have multiple buckles that go up my legs - which stop right underneath my knees. I shove my hands into my half pleather gloves, clenching and unclenching my fingers to get a good feel of how much mobility I had in them. I stand up and walk over to the full length mirror in my room - giving myself a good once over.
I slip my eyes shut after a moment, rolling my head from side to side on my shoulders while shaking out my arms a bit.
Beginning to pace around my room, I start my vocal exercises - tapping my fingers slightly to the beat that I was pacing myself at. My eyes meet the clock on the wall, and I know that it's time.
I make my way over the door, and I open it before making my way towards the stage.
"Oh! I was just coming to get you," Lys says cheerfully as she begins to walk beside me, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. "I'm so proud of you, Marlowe, you have no idea."
We make our way to the steps that lead to where I'm needed next, and she stops us. I look down at her, and I can see tears glazing over her eyes.
"I mean that," she says, speaking over the cheers that are flooding through from the crowd. "I know how much it took for you to get here to be able to play this show, and I hope you're just as proud of yourself as I am of you. You're remarkable, and now you get to show the city where you came from just how remarkable you are as well."
Pursing my lips to the side, I do my best not to cry as I quickly wrap my arms around Lys, pulling her in for a hug. "Fuck you for almost making me cry before I go out there," I joke with a laugh, and I hear her give one back to me as her hands run up and down my back.
We pull away after a moment, and she begins to wipe under her eyes.
"Go, go! I'll be right off to the side if you need me, but I know you won't. You're going to be so wonderful."
Smiling, I give her a nod before making my way to the steps, encasing one of the rails in my hand. I watch as my band enters in from the steps on the other side of the stage, and they take their positions. They begin to play my intro song, and I nod my head to beat to try and get myself into the zone.
On stage, I'm more than just Marlowe Finch. On stage, I'm Marlowe Finch, the singer.
Once a certain beat hits, I race up the steps and onto the stage, the volume from the crowd increasing entirely as I walk the front of the surface. This was a smaller venue, so it was easy for the sound to fill the place, but I was honestly surprised at just how many people were here. I could tell there were people lined up from wall to wall, and the crowd extended all the way into the back towards the front door.
I can feel the large smile taking over my features as I make my way back into the middle of the stage towards my mic stand.
"LA, how are we feeling?" I call out, and the crowd begins to go wild again after just starting to calm down. "Well, you beautiful fucking people, I hope you came here to have a good time because that's what I intend on giving you. Did you guys come here to have a good time?"
I can hear the crowd yell back 'yeah' to me, and I laugh outside of the microphone before letting it meet my lips again. "I said, did you guys come here to have a good time?"
They yell back again even louder than before, and I nod. "Well let's start this damn party, shall we?"
●・○・●・○・●
My chest heaves as I finish my second to the last song. I turn to face my band, sending them all a huge smile, and they're sending me one right back. I turn back to the crowd, and I can feel a lump growing in my throat.
"You guys have been so incredible. I can't thank you enough," I tell them genuinely as I rest my hand against my chest. "I haven't played a hometown show in my time as an artist for various reasons, but I've finally found the strength within myself to do it, and you guys have given me a show even greater than I ever hoped. So thank you, to each and every one of you for making this night so special."
"I'm going to be taking a bit of a break to work on my first full album - not just an EP. Can you all believe that?" I ask, and the crowd cheers. "And it wouldn't be possible without all of you, truly. For this last song I'm going to sing, it's the only completed song I have so far for the new album. It's extremely personal to me, and I didn't know if I was going to play it tonight, but you guys have been so great to me. This is my gift to you. Thank you guys again."
Once more I turn to my band, and my guitarist, Garrett, lifts his eyebrows at me. I know that they all have to be surprised that I'm choosing to sing this song, but it feels right tonight. I give him a nod, and he begins to strum the chords for the introduction of the song.
After a while, the drums start as well, and I close my eyes tight as I keep my back to the audience. I listen to the music surrounding me and I tell myself that this is the moment for me to finally sing this - the most personal song I've written so far. I can hear that it's almost time for me to start singing, and I turn back to the crowd as I cup the microphone on the stand in both of my hands.
"Down to you.
You're pushin' and pullin' me down to you,
But I don't know what I-"
The song immediately goes into the chorus, and I find myself shutting my eyes again - shying away from the crowd for the first time tonight.
"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought.
Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought of you."
I hesitantly open my eyes, and I can see the crowd nodding their heads and swaying to the sound of the beat. That gives me a little more reassurance, and I feel a small smile twitch onto my lips as I watch them.
"Of you - you're pushin' and pullin' me down to you.
But I don't know what I want.
No, I don't know what I want."
Taking the microphone off the stand, I walk towards the front of the crowd and lean down, making eye contact with a few people as I sing the next verse.
"You got it, you got it - some kind of magic.
Hypnotic, hypnotic - you're leaving me breathless
I hate this. I hate this.
You're not the one I believe in - with God as my witness."
The band leads me into the next chorus which then fades into the slower bridge, and I stop in the middle of the stage. I extend one of my hands over my head as I feel the music, and I begin to snake my body around while I sing out the next words.
"Don't know what I want, but I know it's not you.
Keep pushin' and pullin' me down - when I know, in my heart, it's not you."
The song remains slower until the band kicks in heavy once again for the last chorus, and I quickly grab the microphone out of the middle of the stage, tossing it to the side, as myself, Garrett, and my bassist, Alice, begin to head bang.
"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought.
Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that-"
I slam down onto my knees on the stage, my dress long enough to cover me as it sit back slightly on my heels, and I press the palm of my hand not holding the microphone down onto the stage between my thighs as I belt out the last few lines of the song.
"I should've never thought of you. I knew.
I know, in my heart, it's not you. I knew.
But now, I know what I want, I want, I want.
Oh, no, I should've never thought!"
Sucking in air to catch my breath, I keep myself in the position for a while. I didn't even realize that I had tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes now burning from the sensation as my bottom lip trembles. I know my hair is covering me from the audience so they're not able to see how emotional I've become.
In order to distract the crowd a bit, the band begins to play the beginning of the song again, and I know they're doing it to stall - to help me recuperate, and give a proper end to my set.
Only a few more seconds go by before I push myself off the ground, and I lift my other hand to move my curls out of my face as I hold the microphone to my lips.
"You've been truly magical, LA," I compliment them, and I know that my tears are gone from my cheeks. I just hope that it hasn't been obvious that I've been crying. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again really soon. Thank you again, get home safely, and have a good night!"
I begin to blow kisses to them and wave as I start towards the steps I had entered on, and I quickly feel an arm wrap around mine.
"Believe me when I say that was your best performance yet!" Lys squeals, leaning over to press her lips against my cheek, her hold tightening on my right arm as she does so. "I can't believe you played the song. They loved it, Marlowe."
Lys has set it up for me to sign a few things against a side barricade before heading back tonight, and I was more than okay with that. They start leading me towards backstage again, and the way the stage was set up, I have to walk a bit onto the main floor before entering the backstage door. There's a railing blocking me from everyone, and I move a bit closer to Lys as fans start screaming my name - extending copies of my EP for me to sign.
My eyes widen, and I stop to greet them. I sign the items and give them back, all while thanking each person for coming tonight, and for supporting me. Once I reach the end of the line, the main floor is practically cleared out, and we start towards the door.
"Marlowe," I hear my name, and I feel a hand brush against the top of my left arm.
I immediately flinch away and look over at the individual as the security behind us begins to block me from them. Looking away, I start towards the door again before I freeze - realizing the set of ivy colored eyes my blue ones had just been met with.
"Honey, come on," I know Lys is speaking to me, but her voice sounds far away as I turn to look at the person who is calling my name once again.
All the air gets pushed from my lungs when I see who it is, and my knees just about give out on me. He's dressed in a pair of tight black jeans with a pastel floral button-up. The top few buttons are undone to reveal the swallows I knew so well in addition to the antennas of the butterfly that adorns the top of his stomach.
"Harry," I breathe, and he gives me a nod.
It's then that I realize his hair is longer - much longer than the last time I've seen him. He lifts a hand to run through the front of it, pushing it out of his face, but he never averts his gaze from mine.
"No fucking way," I hear Lys whisper behind me, and she quickly gives my arm another squeeze. "Let's go, Marlowe. I'll have security see him out."
Shaking my head, I pull my arm away from her, and now I'm completely turning to face him.
"What do you want?" I ask him - my tone coming out more aggressive than I thought, and I've even surprised myself with that.
"Can we talk?"
Every fiber of my being tells me that I should tell him no. That I should just send him away, and that I don't owe him a thing for the years of turmoil he's put me through. But now that he's here in front of me, and I know he hasn't actually forgotten who I am, I want nothing more than to hear his voice for more than just a few seconds.
"You want to talk?" My eyebrows narrow, and I can feel one of my hands clenching into a fist by my side.
"That's what I asked, isn't it?"
"Alright, that's enough," Lys' voice cuts in, and I feel her wrap her arm around my chest as she starts to steer me towards the backstage area again. "Come on, let's get you changed and home."
"No," I tell her, and we stop again as I tilt my head towards the door - eyes still on Harry. "If you wanna talk, let's talk."
Harry peers at the security guard that just slightly towers over him as he makes his way around the barricade that was completely separating him from us. I swallow harshly as we start towards my dressing room, and Lys opens the door - following me inside.
"Marlowe, I don't know if this is such a good-"
"Look, Lys, I appreciate it, I do, and I understand why you would be hesitant to let me do this, but with the progress I've made - I feel like I need to," I explain, and I watch her nibble on the inside of her cheek before looking over her shoulder at Harry who was now also entering the room. "I have my phone on me, okay? If I need you, I'll call."
"Okay," she sighs, shaking her head in defeat when she knows that I'm going through with this. "Do you want me to leave one of the security guys outside of the door?"
I can't help but smirk softly at her proposition. "I'm okay, but thank you for offering."
Nodding, she starts out of the room, but she stops and looks at Harry. "I swear to god, if I get a phone call from her in the next five minutes and she's crying, I'll find out where you live, and I'll make sure that-"
"Lys!" I say, and she quickly makes eye contact with me as I raise my eyebrows.
"Right, sorry," she mumbles before heading out of the room.
Silence takes over, and I keep my eyes off of Harry as I walk over to my vanity. I grab the ashtray off the surface, as well as my pack of cigarettes, before I head over to the couch - plopping myself down on it. I stick a cigarette between my teeth to hold it stable as I lean down and begin to undo the buckles of my shoes. Once I have them undone, I toss both of them to the side, and I pluck the lighter out of my pack.
I quickly light the cigarette before leaning back into the couch a bit, one leg crossed over the other. In the time that I had taken my shoes off, I didn't notice that Harry had grabbed one of the fold up metal chairs that had been leaning up against the wall. He set it up right across from me, only the coffee table really separating the two of us.
Unfortunately, I find myself in a bit of a trance as I see him fish his own pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his jeans. He flips the lid and brings it up to his mouth, pulling one of the sticks out with his teeth. His eyes flip up to meet mine as he grabs his lighter and sparks it - heart shaped lips immediately closing down around the filter, and I watch the end glow orange.
We both pull the cigarettes from our mouths at the same time, and I tilt my head up to blow the smoke towards the ceiling, but his head remains level with his sight still set on me.
It only takes a few more seconds before we let our eyes journey down each other's bodies, and although I had taken him in out on the main floor, it was like I was doing it for the first time all over again. My head could hardly wrap around the fact that he no longer had some sort of bandana trapped inside his curls, and I could tell with the way his sleeves were rolled up to the creases of his elbows that he had gotten more tattoos over the years.
I'm sure I looked different to him too. My hair was now dark brown, almost black, instead of blonde. My body had truly formed into a woman, causing me to have thicker thighs and a fuller bust. Although my dress covered all of my chest, I knew he could still see the curve to my breasts. He cleared his throat once his eyes made it down to my legs that were still crossed, and he leaned forward to ash his cigarette into the tray.
"So you made it, huh?" He asks, licking over his bottom lip before taking another drag. "You did the whole music thing?"
I scoff slightly, and I can't help but roll my eyes at his statement. "Well, yeah, it was always my dream - my end goal. Just wish that..."
Trailing off, I decide not to finish my sentence as I shake my head. "Doesn't matter," I mumble softly. "What about you? Do you play anymore?
"Well, it would be hard to play considering your parents sold my drumset when they moved out of their home, but even then I wouldn't have wanted it. I still listen to music, but I could never see myself playing again like I did."
Frowning, I ash my own cigarette, leaning forward a bit to rest my wrist on top of my knee - tilting my head to the side. "That's a shame, Harry, you were talented," I tell him honestly, and for the first time I feel my stomach knot up from my nerves. "And my parents assured me that they put the check for the set in your mailbox."
"Oh they did," Harry laughs, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Just another act of charity from them, just like all those years before."
I try to swallow down my anger with his comment, but I can feel my jaw tense. "They never saw you that way, and you know that I never did either. You bought that set with the money you earned from working at the record store. It was yours."
"Yeah, whatever," he shrugs me off with a wave of his hand as he takes an especially long drag.
It grows quiet again, and I finish off my cigarette - putting the butt out in the tray. Leaning back on the couch, I drape my arms across the top of it, and I watch as Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Why are you here, Harry?" I ask, needing him to be straight up with me. I need to know why he chose me coming home to finally acknowledge my existence again.
"Saw your name on the marquee," he said, bringing his hand up to toy with his bottom lip instead, rolling it between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. "Had to make sure that it was you."
"Okay, I guess I'm just a little confused? It's been almost five years. I'm just not understanding how me coming home all of a sudden-"
"What? Do you think there's more to this than me just wanting to confirm that it's you? I'm not here from some type of emotional reunion, Marlowe. Jesus Christ," Harry shakes his head, snuffing his own cigarette out before reaching to grab his pack again.
"Oh, because there's just so many Marlowe Finch's in the world, right?" I ask him, feeling my hands begin to tremble as I drop them down onto the cushions beside me to cup the edge of the couch. "You just had to confirm it was me?"
"I don't know what kind of answer you're looking for here, but whatever it is, you're not getting it from me," Harry laughs darkly, his eyes completely avoiding me now.
Gritting my teeth, I stand from the couch and reach out to snatch his pack of cigarettes from his hand. "You owe me a fucking explanation," I seethe, tears beginning to burn in my eyes from how furious I'm feeling. "Do you understand what you've put me through?"
Harry rolls his eyes and I see a smirk take over his expression as he looks at the wall over my shoulder instead of looking at me. His lips roll, and I can tell that he's slightly sucking his teeth.
"Is something funny?" I lean down to block his view of the wall, and for the first time ever, I see a darkness in his green eyes.
It almost knocks the wind out of me as he's never looked at me with such a gaze, and he sits up from his slightly slouched position in his chair.
"Yeah, there is," he states, standing up, and he takes the pack back from me. "The fact that you think that I owe you anything. Whatever you went through after I told you I didn't want to be friends with you anymore is on you. I should've done it years prior, but you were clinging to me so hard and-"
"Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence," I grit at him, tugging the pleather gloves off my hands as they were growing too clammy for my liking. I toss them onto the couch behind me, and I walk forward so my chest is flush with his. "I was clinging to you? Harry, we only had each other until we found Kailey and Mikey, and then after that you found Sierra. But Sierra didn't really matter either, right? You were sick of her too from what you said. I just don't understand why you completely erased me from your life like you did. I tried to go to your house a month after you left and-"
"You know I never liked you going to my house," Harry's voice lowers, and I feel him buck his chest up against mine a little more. "My mum told me that you stopped by like you did, and that was stupid."
"I didn't have any other choice! You made me feel like I was losing my mind! Fuck - I feel like I'm losing it again right now. Even after five years, you still find a way to mess with my fucking head just by being in my presence for ten minutes," I gasp, moving away from him as my hands tangle into my hair. I begin to pace my dressing room, heart thumping in its cavity.
"I told you I wanted to see if it was you, and that's that. There's nothing more to it, and once I leave here tonight it'll be just like it has been. We won't see each other, we still won't be friends. Eventually you'll forget that you ever saw me again."
Tears wet my cheeks as I look back over to him, and I shake my head. "That's the thing, Harry, I won't. There's hardly been any time that I haven't thought of you over these years, and there's no way that this isn't going to stick just like all the other memories."
Harry steps towards me again, and I look up as his eyes bounce all over my face. "Then wake the fuck up, Marlowe, and learn to properly forget about me."
I open my mouth to speak again, but Harry's already turned around - making his way out of the dressing room. He slams the door behind him, and I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing out. I don't want anyone to hear me like this. I don't know if Lys is still here, but if she is, I know she'll find some way to have Harry's head if she hears me. I'm also really not in the mood to have someone comforting me.
Maybe I really had been fooling myself after all these years, thinking that he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. I couldn't blame him for coming tonight if his true reason was just to confirm that it was me - I'd probably do the same if the situations were reversed.
But what I didn't expect from Harry was the darkness that was surrounding him. That definitely wasn't the same person I knew, and at this point he was truly unrecognizable to me. The moment those green eyes turned into nothing but flourishing ivy I once held so dear - I knew he was never going to come back to me as the same old Harry. He doesn't want to come back at all.
Part of me thinks this is what I needed. I needed to see him as a stranger in order to completely move on from the past, and to actually let him go. But I know that as much as I try to convince myself of that, there is always going to be a small sliver inside that still wishes to hold him close, and to be able to call him my friend.
My therapist told me that your mind and your emotions work closely together in the most mysterious ways, and even though you may not even notice, they fight each other for dominance more than you think. I was told that my emotions usually end up winning, and that's what can cause me to go days without leaving my bed, or what can have me shutting myself away in the studio for weeks on end. She provided me with proper exercises to try and help clear things up when these struggles start to happen, and I know that when I get home tonight I'm going to have to dive into several of them to help overcome the way I'm currently feeling.
Once I collect myself, I slip out of my dress and accessories before pulling on a pair of leggings and some Doc Martens with an oversized black hoodie. I gathered everything that was mine in the dressing room, and walked out to my car, piling it all into the trunk. I've been in LA for a few days now, and yesterday I went ahead and purchased a car since I knew I was going to be here for several months at the very least.
I slide into the driver's seat, and I grasp the wheel as I start towards my new home.
During the car ride, it's like I've resorted back to those days right after Harry left. I don't play any music as I drive, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions until I can curl up under the covers of my bed and try to block out the thoughts bouncing back and forth in my mind.
If my mind was making one thing extremely clear though, it was that LA was going to be even more different than I thought when I left those years ago, and I'm not entirely sure if i'm prepared for that.
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