perception [h.s]

n i n e t e e n

n i n e t e e n

"The summertime, and butterflies, all belong to your creation."

**

"Jesus, I can't believe the semi-finals are tomorrow," Rita sighed, placing her hands on her forehead.

The first live show had been last week and to be honest I had thought that I was going to throw up. Multiple times.

I sighed along side her, "Damn, yeah. It's gone so fast."

"Worth it?"

"Is that even a question?" I laughed, sitting on the piano stool.

So much had happened within such a short width of time and half of it was a complete blur. Being on the show was such a huge thing for me and making to the semi-finals was fricking insane. Obviously I hadn't seen my family much but I'd tried to contact them when I could, although they seemed to receive a lot of 'news' from magazines. Despite, most of it being bullshit I guess it just reassured them to be more aware of what was happening.

Rita had been my support system for this extent of time as she was always around (obviously) for rehearsals and was always such a babe when it came to...

"What's going on in your pretty little head, doll?" She asked as she set down her empty mug on the table.

"A lot," I mumbled, "Just thinking about..."

"Harry," She finished my sentence.

"Yeah," My voice was quiet, my head turning to my feet.

I'd denied to her constantly that I was okay with what had happened and that I was coming to accept that that was his life and this is mine and that not everything will always work out like in the fairy tales.

Want to count how many times I said 'that' in the past sentence?

"Chloe, can't you just accept that you're in denial," She let out a long breathe before continuing, "I mean, look at you. You're stressed out to fuck,"

She was right.

Again.

Damn you, Rita.

I'm mentally talking to myself, okay bye.

Wait that's what thinking is anyway... right?

Fuck okay so basically Rita was right, blah blah blah... back to reality.

"I don't know," I spoke, "It was my fau-"

"If you say it's your fault one more time I will sell that purse I gave you last week," She threatened as I let out a fake gasp.

"You wouldn't dare,"

"I would,"

"You're annoying,"

"But I'm kind of very fabulous?"

"Maybe,"

" I got a maYBE?! Hallelujah."

"Alright purse-napper, calm down,"

"Did you just," She paused, "Call me," Her finger pointed to her chest, dramatically, "A purse-napper?"

"Maybe," I taunted her yet again.

"Well I see how it is then,"

"Well... this is just awkward now isn't it."

"It will be if you keep avoiding talking about Harry and how you are crazy about him," She cooed.

"Me." I imitated her, "Avoid a question? Me? Avoid a... quESTION?" I scoffed, "I mean me- Okay maybe but," I stopped as I took a second to take in everything she had said.