Chapter 22 - injured

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Jade POV

It may sound horrible, but I'm slowly getting used to the situation, at least coming to terms with the fact that I'm ill. Some days I feel sick all the time, others I almost forget about it. There are days when I feel amazingly well, considering the circumstances. Days when I wake up energised and don't feel like shit. On those days we all relax together on the tour bus or in the hotel, talk or fool around. But then there are days when I can't even stand up properly, when I can barely get a clear thought and could throw up any second. Then I try to sleep every possible minute and pray that no one notices. But I think the more days go by, the more people around me suspect. Jesy and Leigh have been on alert all the time anyway, watching me warily and I'm sure spinning wild theories, but they haven't said them out loud yet. The dancers and the crew also know by now that something is wrong. Like Sam, they are not blind. They've all been noticing my frequent lapses for weeks. Deep down I know that I can't keep it a secret for too much longer, that the truth will come out eventually. At the moment, like most of the media, they are focusing on the theory that I have become a drug addict. I make it clear every time that this is not the case, but I don't do much to make it convincing. I just try to ignore everything around me, to block it all out.


Perrie is a true angel. I know I don't deserve her, how could I? It's so incredibly hard for her and yet she keeps her promise to keep my secret for as long as I want her to. She stands by me whether I'm doing well or badly. She holds my hair when I throw up. She holds me when I feel like shit. She cuddles with me, gives me her closeness when I need it so badly. She organises healthy food for me when I feel a little hungry. She makes sure I always have a cup of tea in my hand because she knows it calms me. She is always with me, never leaves my side and cares for me. I couldn't be more grateful to her and I wish I could show her better. On the other hand, I'm also so embarrassed by all this that I just accept all her niceties without comment and feel terrible about it.


The others also notice that Perrie and I are literally glued to each other. That Perrie is more protective and caring of me than ever before. That we spend every second together, that she constantly makes a mad fuss over me. That I stare at her with gratitude and love at everything she does for me. We never hear the end of it. Jesy and Leigh tease us about it, albeit lovingly, all the time, just calling us lovebirds and whatsoever. And that's okay. We let them because we don't care.


So normal everyday life is actually manageable with chemotherapy. Shows are a completely different thing. Every time we do a show, I lose all my energy and afterwards it takes me ages to get back on my feet. And everyone notices that. The girls, the dancers and the crew. And here, too, I know that they think their part, that they suspect drugs or something like it. Perrie talks me down and says I'm imagining things, but I know she's just saying that to make me feel better.


On good days, the show is still halfway doable. On bad days it's sheer survival on stage. Perrie knows this, she sees it, she feels it and she hates it. I promised her to listen to my body, to take breaks if need be or to listen to her if necessary. We both know I break that promise several times, especially when there's a show on a bad day. But what else am I supposed to do? Sam and also Paul have said it more than clear, and not just once. Another drop out or failure is not an option. I have to go through with every show, no matter how I feel, or it will have fatal consequences for the band. I can't say I won't perform only because I'm not feeling quite right. I have to go through with it. Perrie sees it differently, of course she does. But she only has me and my well-being in mind at the moment, and I think mostly of the band's. Maybe only of the band's.

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