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This past week has been hard. I've started working at Zayn's and there's a lot more for me to do than I thought. He gets way more custom appointments than I assumed he would, most of the time I thought his clients just picked from one of the many binders he has full of designs ideas or brought their own.

It's been a good distraction, keeping my mind off of Harry and everything going on with him. Zayn hasn't been into the studio since that day at my apartment when I texted him. Tiff said he was working with Harry and making sure he doesn't go looking for drugs. So around the studio it's just been Tiff and I, along with the new tattoo artist Zayn hired named Bryson.

He's actually a really cool guy, he and I get along well, but Tiff doesn't seem like a fan. I felt kind of bad because on his first week he got stuck with working with two girls, mostly just me, but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He's a quiet guy, he doesn't talk much but he's gotten more comfortable talking to me.

I spend most of my time at the studio now, trying to not think about Harry. I miss him more than I ever thought would be possible. I miss his touch and his kiss. I miss his goofiness and all around just him. I figured it would be best to let him and Zayn be on their own, I don't know what's really going on with any of this, I just hope Harry will listen to whatever Zayn is telling him.

And as much as I miss Harry, I'm still incredibly hurt. I keep replaying that day over and over in my head, how he casually asked for money, even after Zayn had taken it away. I thought that only happened in movies. In all honesty, I thought addiction like this only happened in movies. This is all new and unfamiliar. I'm just trying to make sense of it all while also maintaining my grades and keeping up on everything.

"You think a lot." I'm pulled out of my the lights by Bryson who is leaned over the back of a chair. I sigh and drop my knees from my chest, my feet planting on the floor.

"Yeah, unfortunately." I laugh dryly, running my fingers through my hair as I sigh. Bryson watches me intently. He's an attractive guy, he definitely fits the job. He has dirty blonde hair that is shorter on the sides and left longer on the top. His eyebrows both have thin slits on the tail ends of them and the skin of both of his arms is inked with multi colored designs which seem to be based off of one another.

"Why unfortunately?" He asks easily, moving to sit in the chair across from me. I shrug my shoulders in response, playing with the collar of my crewneck that belongs to Harry, Bryson watching with his head tilted to the side.

"I'm tired of thinking all the time." I mutter, smiling at my stupid words. Bryson grins and nods his head, leaning forward to retrieve the pack of smokes on the table in front of us. "I'm just stressed over everything that doesn't need to be stressed about." I clarify.

"I can relate to that." He mumbles, lighting the cigarette easily. I watch as he hollows his cheeks and takes a long drag, raising his eyebrows at me. "Do you smoke?" He asks, the fog tumbling from his mouth as he speaks. I widen my eyes slightly and shake my head, watching as he takes another drawl.

"Oh. . . no." I answer. Bryson holds the cigarette between his fingers out in front of him as he examines it for a moment before he holds it out towards me, blowing another trail of smoke off to the side.

"It helps with the stress." He shrugs. I chew the inside of my cheek as I stare at the stick of tobacco. "Im not trying to pressure you." He adds on. I lean forward and grab the cigarette from his grasp, scrunching my nose.

"I've always been curious." I mutter, putting the end between my lips. I take a drag like I saw him do, immediately regretting it as the nasty taste fills my mouth, stinging my throat and lungs harshly. I cough a few times, my eyes tearing up from the stinging. Bryson grins and laughs lightly, shaking his head at me.

"Don't take such big puffs, just start small." He tells me with a short laugh. I grin and swallow the stinging feelings in my throat before returning it to my lips and taking a much smaller pull, sucking the smoke down my throat sharply to get the buzz before I blow it out. "Like that." He nods, leaning forward as I offer the smoke back to him. "Is it everything you thought it would be?" He questions, taking a drag himself.

"I don't know, my head feels heavy." I laugh, Bryson grinning as he nods lightly, leaning forward to hand it back to me. I take it easily and hold it between my lips, glancing over at the door as it's pushed open, the tobacco filling my lungs thickly as Tiff walks in.

"Holy shit, what did I just walk into?" She questions, her eyebrows deeply furrowed as she looks at me, her eyes flickering between the cigarette between my fingers and my eyes. "You're smoking." She states.

"I'm just trying it." I respond.

"Finish it off, Clove, I've got a client I need to get ready for." He nods, standing up and disappearing back into the studios as Tiff stares at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Clove?" She questions. I put the cigarette out in the ashtray like I've seen Harry do many times, glancing up as Tiff sits where Bryson previously had been.

"He's being nice, everyone calls me that." I tell her, leaning my back into the comfortable couch as I pull my knees up to my chest. "Why is it such a big deal that I smoked a single cigarette, you guys all do it." I continue, Tiff sighing as she looks at me.

"Because you're Clover, you're eighteen and it's bad for your health." She states. I roll my eyes, smoothing my hands down my shins. "Is everything okay?" Tiff asks now.

"I'm fine, it's just a cigarette oh my god." I laugh, standing from the couch to retrieve my charging phone from the front counter. Tiffs eyes follow me back to my place, concern written all over her face.

"Smoking is not the way to cope with your stress, Clover." She replies back. I sigh and look at her with raised eyebrows. "I'm just looking out for you, and you know how Harry will react when he finds out you're smoking."

"I don't want to talk about Harry. And he smokes too so it's nothing different." I mutter, my phone beginning to ring against my stomach causing me to sigh, lifting it to see who it is. "Mom. . . now isn't a good time." I breathe, leaning my forehead against my palm.

"Well you better make it a good time because we're in your apartment. Where are you?" My eyebrows furrow immediately as I snap my head up at her words, gripping my phone harshly.

"Why are you at my apartment?" I question immediately. That was one of the agreements we had when they agreed to help me with college and my apartment. They also got a key made.

"Because we wanted to see you, it's been five months." I roll my eyes and lean my head back, letting out a sigh of frustration. "And ditch the attitude before you get here." I shake my head and push myself to stand from the couch, Tiff watching with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'll be there in fifteen, I'm just getting off of work." I say, squeezing my eyes shut immediately. That's another added to the list that they'll badger me about. "Goodbye." I mutter, ending the call without letting her respond.

"Parents?" Tiff asks, I nod my head and grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and retrieving my keys. "Good luck." She laughs, I grin and thank her, calling out a goodbye to Bryson before I leave the small studio, finding my way to my car.

The last thing I want is my parents to be here. I'm stressed out enough over my classes and my boyfriend who I haven't seen in a week nor have I spoken to. I miss him and all I want to do is see him. This is just one more unnecessary thing I'm stressed over.

Happy update! This was just a little filler chapter to calm down from the last one. I hope it was okay nonetheless!

Much love
~C

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