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Your POV

Two weeks.

It's been two weeks of Lauren trying to avoid me, and it fucking sucks.

It's like being ghosted in real life.

Every time I tried to talk to her she blew me off. I was pretty fucking annoyed at this point.

I was walking upstairs to my room when I almost ran into her.

"Oh, my bad," I apologized. She just nodded and tried to step around me.

"No, fuck this. Why won't you talk to me?" I asked, staying in the way.

"Y/n, just leave me alone," she said, running a hand through her hair and exposing her neck.

My eyes widened when I saw what was on her neck.

"What the fuck is that?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what it was.

"What?" She asked, feeling her neck where I was pointing.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me. I'm glad Ally told me not to get attached. Have fun with whoever gave you that," I said, pointing at the hickey again before going into my room and locking the door.

She didn't try to come after me, which both hurt me and made me glad.

Ally was right and now I needed to know how she knew. She definitely knew who gave her that hickey.

I waited a little while before leaving my room and going straight to Ally's.

I knocked on the door and heard her yell to come in before entering. She looked up and her face dropped.

"What's wrong?" She asked, jumping up and cupping my face.

"What? How did you know something was wrong?" I asked.

She just smiled and grabbed my hands, making me realize my fists were clenched.

"Your eyes are watering," she mumbled, wiping under them before the tears could fall.

"Who is Lauren messing around with?" I asked.

Ally's eyes widened slightly before she led me to sit on the bed.

"What happened?"

"She's been ignoring me for the past two weeks," I started.

"Yea, we've noticed," Ally said.

"She has a hickey. I sure as hell didn't give her that."

"Oh my God. She can be so stupid sometimes," Ally mumbled, rubbing her temple.

"It's whatever. I'm done," I said, laying back on her bed.

"Hey, at least you didn't get too attached," Ally tried to comfort me, running her hand through my hair.

"Yea," I lied. I was fucking attached already and I knew it.

I need a way to occupy myself. I need something that will help me not think about it.

I used to drown myself in school work when I wanted to distract myself, but I don't have that anymore.

That's when I remembered the card that Nate gave me.

"I'm gonna go back upstairs," I mumbled, sitting up in her bed.

"Are you sure?" She asked, worry apparent on her features.

"Yea, I'm just gonna go try to take a nap. I think she left the house anyways," I told Ally, trying to convince her to let me be alone.

"Okay. Don't overthink this. You're gonna be okay, Bubba," Ally said with a sad smile.

"I won't," I told her, watching as her phone started to right.

"It's mom," Ally said.

"Tell her I said hey," I told her before leaving the room.

I practically sprinted up the stairs to my room, closing and locking the door behind me.

"Where did I put it?" I asked myself before going through my desk drawers, looking everywhere for the little business card.

"Goddamnit," I mumbled, when I couldn't find it.

I looked around my room, trying to jog my memory of where I put it.

"Wait," I stopped, looking at my pants on the floor.

I immediately ran to my closet, looking through all my pairs of jeans and checking the pockets.

"Ah ha!" I said when I felt the small piece of paper in the back pocket of one of my jeans.

I pulled it out and it was a little torn up. It had definitely been through the washing machine, but I could still read it.

I typed the number into my phone and called it.

It rang three times before Nate picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, uh... is this Nate?" I asked, feeling dumb because I already knew who it was.

"Yes. May I ask who's speaking?"

"It's Y/n. Y/n Hernandez. I came in with Fifth Harmony the other day," I explained, not knowing if he remembered me.

"Yea, I know who you are Y/n," he laughed. "Did you think about my offer?"

"I did," I told him.

"Anddd..."

"I would really like to help," I said, hearing his excited "yes" on the other end of the line.

"I'm glad you want to help. We're still in need of more help and I know for a fact you can be a big part of this," he told me, making me smile.

"So, when are you gonna need me?" I asked.

"Currently she's pretty busy, so she's coming to the studio from ten to six on Wednesdays and Fridays," Nate explained. I assumed he was talking about the artist he is working with.

I nodded before realizing he couldn't see me. "Okay, that's sounds good," I answered.

"If anything outside of that schedule happens I'll text you about it."

"Alright. Can I ask who the artist is?"

"You'll have to wait and find out," Nate cheekily said through the phone. "Talk to you later, Y/n."

He hung up after that, and I couldn't help the smile that took over my features.

I was actually going to be able to work with real songwriters and producers on a project.

For the first time in two weeks I had a genuine smile on my face, and for the first time in God knows how long, I felt like I was part of something important.

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