Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

17. Mystery Beauty

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I am still in wide-eyed shock, staring at the series of images on the double spread page. There's a part of me that doubts if these photos are even real, but that girl is me, and that moment happened.

"Not only do you get a feature, there's more!" she exclaims, laced thick with fake enthusiasm and she then lays out another four gossip magazines, each emblazoned with a different title, all with similar photographs.

I feel like crying as I rummage through the images. One of the snaps contains Harry tenderly holding my face in his hands. I almost can't take my eyes off him as I see the intimate way he's looking at me in the photograph. Another image is of us kissing and even another of me laughing during the kiss. We look really happy. I realise that they also managed to snap a shot of me sitting in the back seat with my hands covering my face, much to my dismay.

Most of these images are beautiful yet it was our moment, and didn't need to be shared. It now makes me look back on that memory with an almost sick feeling, that someone was watching us and tainted our private moment. My mind instantly rushes to the image of JFK and Marilyn Monroe at the art gallery. I now finally understand what Harry meant by his comment, and I too share the same type of sadness.

I take a moment to read the eye-catching titles:

'Mystery Australian beauty scoops up Styles'

'Kendall outraged over released images, wears sheer top in catwalk in revenge to Styles'

'Kendall VS mystery Australian beauty'

I force myself to stop reading or else I'm going to throw up. I've seen this girl before on the reality TV show Keeping Up With the Kardashians, and obviously this girl is stunning. No question about it. Had I known that they were together, I never would have let things go as far as they did. My heart is physically hurting knowing that Harry knowingly took advantage of me. I was to be some dirty little secret fling while he was here, until he ran back to his actual girlfriend when he returned back to his life. I can't believe I was so stupid and thought someone like him could genuinely like someone like me.

I look over at a now silent Scarlett. In all my years of knowing her, I have never referred to her or ever seen her as being silent.

"Scar- I can seriously explain, I was going to tell you everything. I tried."

"Save your shït Ava. I'm meant to be your best friend. You had so many chances to tell me and yet you kept your fücking mouth shut."

"I honestly tried to tell you, but it was never the right moment! You didn't believe me that time at the store, and the only other time I've seen you since then was after Jackson. It wasn't the right time."

I can see the hurt in her eyes and it's breaking my heart inside.

"What I'm most hurt about Ava, is being your supposed best friend and being literally the last person to find out. I can understand if he didn't want you to tell people, but it's me Ave. Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I trust-"

"Save your breath," she icily interjects and strides out of the room.

I frantically clear up the scattered magazines into a pile to avoid my family seeing the amorous shots, sliding them under my bed. Straight away I realise what a silly idea it is, as the magazines will be shown on newsstands, in supermarkets, and there is no way that this could be avoided. Eventually people will know who I am, but they will know me as the girl who tried to force her way in between a relationship of someone they adore. I'll probably be called a slut by people who don't know me, or anything about the situation. They'll believe everything about my life that is written, as though it were verbatim, and I'll have this label hanging over me for some time.