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"Are you scared yet?"

The four words I have looked at for the past twenty four hours on end, at one moment they started merging together because I looked at the daunting words for too long. The fear has stayed the same though, completely and effortlessly sticking to my brain like an aggravating piece of sticky gum.

I barely received any sleep last night from the ongoing thoughts those words poisoned into my mind, like the second my eyes and mind relaxed another morbid thought would be dropped into my head.

I now sit on my bed with a dress adorning my body, a purple sparkling dress with a slit for my right leg to peep through as the black heels clasp to my ankles.

Harry said to dress fancy when he told me about tonights event, and though I went last month he said this one was more... dramatic.

That's literally how he said it, he paused when saying dramatic and that made me more stressed, how could it be more dramatic than last time?

Another text vibrates through my phone and it makes me jump until I see it's not on the contact I am on now but it's from Harry. A smile reaches my face as the message requests me to go with him tonight.

He requested.

From 'Douchebag': I know you couldn't drink last time, so, need a chauffeur?

I shake my head while I smile at his question, opening the text to respond, my pointer finger playing with my bottom glossy lip, I look up wondering if I should. I know I am comfortable with letting him drive, and maybe a night with a few drinks in me might be nice after the hecticness recently.

To 'Douchebag': I guess I can deal with your horrible driving for one night.

I press send, putting my phone to the side beside my clutch and entering the bathroom one last time to double check my appearance before he gets here.

The dress is similar to the one I wore on my twenty first birthday and it makes me smile, that night was filled with so many memories also so many regrets the morning after , making me shake my head and look at the rest of me.

My lips lined like Maurice taught me to do, she would honestly be proud of my make up tonight, I really out did myself this time.

I dab my lips and look at my eyes, the eye liner surrounding them making my eyes bluer then usual, it makes me smile.

I feel pretty. after so much happening it's not that I felt presented as ugly but mentally I have felt ugly, I don't know how to explain, but right now I don't feel ugly, and I'll call that a success

There's a few marks from the night with George, some I didn't have the talent to cover, but they're not noticeable if you don't know about that night.

I hear my doorbell ring, making me jump slightly as I make it to my bed, grabbing my phone and clutch which holds all my necessities. No letting accessories take away my pepper spray tonight.

I go down my stairs with swiftness, not wanting to keep him out there waiting for long. I open the door the second I'm down the stairs and as I look at him his eyes meet mine.

His hair jelled back slightly, his black suit open yet again but with a white button down underneath that is buttoned all the way to the bottom of his sternum, a black what seems to be tie, tied not even correctly as it lays sloppily on his neck, lazily tucked slightly into his unbottuned top.

He looks effortless yet again, but there's something about this outfit that makes me swallow, something about the extent of how effortless he looks compared to at work. His hair has curls that look like their defiantly fighting the chemicals in his hair, and they're winning, slowly coming undone on top of his head.

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