"Great rehearsal guys!" the director yelled shortly after the lights returned back to normal. "Be here tomorrow at the same time!"
They all climbed down from the stage and headed back to their dressing room. Harry stopped on the way, picking up a towel and a water bottle to help cool himself.
"Hey Hare Bear," a voice called.
He turned, startled, and spilled water all over his shirt.
"Claire," he nodded dabbing his shirt with his towel.
He hadn't seen her since the club incident. She disappeared whenever she wanted to meet another guy. She left no calls, no messages, and no trace.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asked, not in the mood to talk to her.
"I did, but I skipped it for you!" she squealed opening her arms wide for a hug.
She examined his sweaty state and opted for a cheek kiss instead.
"Thanks, but that really wasn't necessary," Harry replied pushing past her.
She grabbed his arm. "Is there something wrong?" she questioned.
"Let me go," he sighed.
"Harry, come on... Let's talk," she pressed.
"Claire let me go," he warned between clenched teeth.
She was starting to really bother him, but she always managed to make everything about herself. She stomped her foot like a rotten four year old.
"I'm not letting you go!" she screamed at him. "Not until you tell me what's going on with you!"
Harry's eyes left hers and scanned the area—everyone was staring. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but when his eyes landed back on her red face his dissatisfaction shone through.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked her in a hushed tone. "Do you think I don't know about the guy you've been seeing? Do you think I don't know that you left me stranded because of him?"
Her eyes were wide with surprise. The fact that she thought that he wouldn't find out made him angrier than the fact that she was cheating in the first place.
"Nothing is wrong with me, yet everything is wrong with you. I haven't changed. You have. We don't get along anymore, and since I'm being 100% honest here, I don't love you anymore," Harry explained. "I'm tired of wasting my time on you. It's over."
"W-what?" she stuttered, her lip trembling in shock.
"I'm breaking up with you. Don't call me, text me, or visit me from now on," he snapped at her.
Usually he would never say anything so hurtful to a girl, but Claire wasn't just any girl. At this point most people would cry, scream, or start throwing out explanations, but, no, this was Claire Hudson, international supermodel of her father's creation. Imagine taking a normal girl adding money, selfishness, shallowness, beauty, charisma, and the inability to close her legs and you get Claire. Richard Hudson's daughter and the heiress to pretty much everything fashion related in London.
So when she raised her hand Harry was fully prepared to take the impact of her slap and to walk away the bigger person.
"Screw you Harry! Maybe if you showed a little more love and appreciation things could've been different! You just have to go and ruin everything good in your life!" she screamed as he felt the familiar sting on his cheek.
