Freak In You [𝟏𝟖+] [𝐆𝐱𝐆]

41 | The Daisy Collection

♱Recommended song: Higher By Tems♱

I watched as the makeup artists and hair stylists frantically styled me and the other models for the show.

Luckily, I had been forced to remain busy since Noa left—and even if it had only been two days, it already felt like a week.

I looked tired—but not visibly.

You could only see it if you looked in my eyes.

How broken and tired I truly felt.

I glanced over at the door through the vanity mirror, watching as Arya entered the large dressing room with two iced waters and a granola bar.

"How do you feel?" she asked as she set down the things in her hands.

It had been at least the tenth time this morning that she had asked me the reoccurring question.

And every answer was the same.

"Fine," I said, grabbing the water that she had just sat down.

But we both knew I wasn't fine—not after the panic attack I had in that hotel bathroom.

I was forced to feel everything this go around instead of shutting the dreadful feelings out, and maybe that was good.

Maybe that was healthy.

But I didn't want healthy—I wanted...

I shook my head to myself, knowing who I really wanted.

I wanted to feel good again.

Not sad, not angry—and not like I had lost a literal piece of myself.

"I have to be," I finally said, setting my water back down.

Arya sighed, sitting down beside me in one of the chairs as the stylists finished up their work.

And while I was excited for this show to be over, and to finally head back home—I knew I'd have a lot of alone time on my hands.

It made me want to impulsively travel the world for a few months while I actually healed.

Noa was definitely right about one thing—sleeping around was my way of avoiding my feelings.

And now that I'm actually allowing myself to feel them—I can't even imagine sleeping with anyone right now.

She's definitely broken me this time—and I allowed her to.

"Okay, everyone needs to get dressed—we're lining up in twenty minutes," I heard one of the creative directors call out.

Arya gave me a nod, holding a soft look on her face as she stood from her chair, "I'll see you after the show—I know you'll do amazing," she said, earning a small smile from me.

Once she was out of the dressing room along with anyone else who wasn't a model—the stylists got to work.

And soon, I found myself zipped into the silk beige dress that fell past my ankles—before they ended up tying a corset on over the strapless gown.

My dark hair was down and my makeup was neutral—highlighting my most prominent features.

Everything felt so fast-paced, which easily helped keep my thoughts away from Noa.

I seriously don't know what I'll do once fashion week ends.

Maybe I really should travel.

I could impulsively buy a plane ticket after the show and just go wherever I want.