Alone

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Okay, hi. As promised, I'm here with a warning for this chapter. I really don't want to upset anyone with my writing. This chapter really mostly deals with a negative body image. It's an incredibly personal chapter for me. Just know that if anyone needs to talk, comment or shoot me a PM because I'm always here. With that being said, onward and upward- comment/vote as always! Love love love.
-ab

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October 25, 2025

Harper

I spend the entire night trying to forget about what happened during my first costume fitting. What they said.

I try to convince myself that they meant what they said in a different sense of the word.

I try to convince myself that I heard them wrong.

Still, I can't seem to keep the words from echoing around in my mind.

She's bigger than any of our other Anyas. I think we are going to just need to make new costumes.

It's so simple. Realistically, I know that it probably just means I'm tall, but I can't seem to push the notion out of my head that it means other things.

In spite of everyone telling me that I was skinny for my entire life, I've never been able to see that while looking in the mirror. I've never been able to see what everyone else tells me that they see.

Skinny... pretty... gorgeous hair...

Fat. Ugly. Frizzy hair that slightly resembles a triangular road sign.

Hearing the comment in my fitting just sent me over the edge, I think.

I don't want to tell Patrick, because I know that all he's going to do is tell me how beautiful I am. I don't want to tell anybody, for that exact reason. I don't need to hear lies about what I look like. Only one guy has ever paid attention to me in my whole life. That's not what screams 'drop dead gorgeous.'

I try to sleep, but I just can't. I toss and turn through the night, and in the morning, I've gotten... perhaps two hours of sleep.

"Feeling better, love?" Patrick asks me, as soon as he wakes up.

I simply shrug in response, then climb out of bed and walk to the kitchen.

While part of me is starving, part of me still feels sick as the words echo around in my mind.

I can't bring myself to eat anything more than an apple.

"Eat something else, love," Patrick encourages me as he sees me slicing it up. "You barely ate last night."

"I'm fine," I reply. "I'm not hungry."

"Are you feeling okay? You're always hungry."

"I'm fine."

He gives me a weird look. "Are you sure? You'd tell me if you weren't?"

"I'd tell you. I'm fine," I reply. At that, I take the plate and run into our room, closing the door behind me.

I hear knocks on the door momentarily.

"Harper? Can I come in?"

"I'm not dressed. Sorry," I lie, just not wanting to face him.

I know that he is still standing outside of the door, but I chose to ignore his presence as I open up my script and start to read over my lines again.

Even though I'm off book, it can't help to brush up on them, right?

"Harper?" I hear, after a few minutes.

I respond with silence.

"Harper Kennedy, please let me in."

Instead, I open up my e-mail on my phone and check the tracking number on the package which I'm waiting on in the mail. A few more days to wait still.

"Harper, love, if you don't let me in, then I'm coming in."

"I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?" I snap.

I'm expecting a snippy response right back from him, but I instead hear him opening the door.

"Go away. I told you, I want to be alone right now," I tell him.

"Harper, I'm worried about you."

"Well you don't need to be. I'm fine," I say. "Oh my god, I'm going out. I don't know where or when I'll be back."

"Harper... sweetie..."

"I just want to be alone," I whisper, grabbing my small, pink backpack off of its hook and wrapping my dark green army jacket around myself. "Bye. I love you."

I shove my feet into my trainers and lock up the door after leaving the flat.

On the tube. Off at the London Bridge station.

My feet carry me, and something inside of me knows where I'm going. Where I've come so many times when I needed to clear my head, since my days at the Royal Academy of Music.

Potters Fields Park, overlooking the River Thames, with the best view of the Tower Bridge in all of London, in my opinion.

I lie down on the grass underneath a little tree and stare up at the sky. The red leaves hanging onto the branches obstruct my view of the cloudy grey sky. The threat of rain lingers, but I don't care. I'm a Londoner through and through. I'm not afraid of a little fall of rain.

Sure enough, after about ten minutes of lying in the grass and listening to music, the wind begins to pick up and drops of water begin to fall on my face.

Letting out a little groan, I dig around in my backpack for my umbrella, then put it up, just as everyone else around me does.

I don't quite want to go home yet. I don't want to eat anything. I don't want to stay outside.

I suddenly remember that there's a Starbucks across the river. I could really go for some tea.

Running across the bridge, and just hoping that lighting doesn't strike as I do so, I soon find myself dripping wet, but feeling a blast of heat inside of the little shop.

After a brief wait in line, I order a youthberry tea and pick it up at the end of the counter.

Just as I'm ready to walk back outside, the rain stops for a moment, so I decide to take this opportunity to stand outside and enjoy my drink.

After that, I realize that it's time to face Patrick again. He's going to be cross with me for walking out like this... and not responding to his texts, which I've been purposefully ignoring. I'm a grown woman, though. I deserve some quiet time, if that's what I desire.

Taking the tube back home, I quietly push open the door to the flat, hoping to slip in unnoticed. Of course, no such luck.

"Where have you been?" he asks me.

"I was... just around," I reply, taking a sip of my tea, which is starting to go cold.

"Harper, that wasn't funny. I was worried about you, love. For all that I knew, you could've jumped into the River Thames and I'd never see you again."

"Oh god," I roll my eyes. "If you must know, I went and sat in the park by the Tower Bridge for a little bit, then ran into the Starbucks across the river, along St. Katharine's Way, when it started raining. I got this tea, then took the tube back home. Now, I'm tired and I'm going to go take a nap. Can you please leave me alone?"

"I guess..." Patrick says, clearly bewildered. I give him a curt nod before running into the room. I feel awful about treating him like this, but I don't know how else to get rid of him, and I just want to be alone.

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