Picture Perfect (Harry Styles)

Chapter 19

        The few weeks following my break-up from Harry was confusing. I wasn't sure whether it was good or bad, whether I was happy or sad, I wasn't really sure of anything. I was almost numb. Sometimes, I would be hit by a wave of emotion, but it would ebb away within a few minutes, leaving me as before. Confused. 

      I stood infront of the mirror and sighed. I wasn't ready for this. I knew deep down I couldn't do it, but I had pushed that down and now it was all bubbling up again. I knew he was going to be there, and I knew I wasn't ready to see him again yet.  I was so stupid to accept this job. They said I didn't have to, but I had insisted it was okay. Too late to change my mind now, I had to go any minute now. Go to that stupid charity concert/auction thing. 

     I took another breath, smoothing down my hair. I wondered if I should put on a bit of make-up to show him I was doing well, that I was fine. But then I'd be lying. I wasn't fine, I wasn't doing well. He seemed to be though. Once the press had picked up that we weren't seeing each other anymore, they started documenting Harry's love life again. I'd seen some pictures of him out with other girls. It hurt, but I tried to ignore it. Which was considerably hard, given it was everywhere. 

      I finally decided to put on a bit of pink tinted lip gloss and mascara, but that was all. I didn't want to go overboard. I slipped into a pair of trainers and grabbed a black jacket and my camera bag, before heading out. It was an hours drive to the location, it should have been forty minutes but it took longer because of traffic. 

      Inside was filled with nicely dressed celebrities, so I stuck out in my light blue jeans, loose fitted olive green t-shirt and black jacket. I found a place in the shadows near the back of the room and got out my camera, ready to take pictures of the performances and people going up to collect winnings or present prizes.  

      It took a bit of time, but people got settled into their seats at the numerous round tables and the night began. Dermot O'Leary got up first to thank everyone for coming, about the cause and how to donate and all that. Then the concert began, and I started with the pictures. Singer after singer came up, and each time one act finished, I felt my chest contract in anticipation, wondering if they'd be next.  I knew I'd have to pretend they were any other act, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to. 

      A voice cut through my worrying and sent shivers down my spine. It was the voice I most dreaded hearing, that was so familiar and I'd been dreaming about hearing even though I knew I'd freak out when I did.

"Cassidy?" I slowly, very slowly, turned around. Standing a few feet in front of my was Harry, looking gorgeous in his suit. I couldn't help noticing how his bow-tie was wonky, and I wanted to fix it but I knew I couldn't. He shouldn't have even been there, talking to me. We were surrounded by journalists and photographers.

"Hi." I said, unable to hide the shakiness in my voice, a sure give-away of how nervous I was. He looked shocked, but a good sort of shocked. Like I-can't-believe-this-I'm-so-lucky sort of shocked. A pleasant surprise. But there was nothing lucky about this meeting. It was anything but lucky. As if I wasn't having enough trouble getting over him as it was, I had to see him right here looking absolutely amazing. 

"Um, what are you doing here?" He asked. I held up my camera, smiling weakly, even though I didn't feel like smiling. I felt more like either screaming and running away or dropping everything and throwing my arms around his neck to kiss him. Unfortunately neither of those were options. He nodded quickly, glancing around nervously. Then there was an awkward silence, when neither of us spoke, just looked at each other. "You cut your hair." He noted. I nodded, my hand going up to my hair automatically. Instead of the light blonde hair I'd had previously that hung just below my shoulders, I had it cut to just below my chin and the colour was closer to a golden blonde. 

"Yeah I did." I replied awkwardly. This whole thing was awkward and I wished he'd go away. 

"It looks nice." He commented. 

"I cut it because I heard sometimes changing things like your hair helps you get over a relationship." I told him absently. I regretted it immediately after, seeing the slightly hurt look on his face. I still didn't want to hurt him. He'd done nothing wrong, it was my fault. It was me who'd hurt him. 

"Oh." He said quietly. "Has it? Helped?"

"No. Not really." I replied honestly. It hadn't. I'd still missed him just as much. 

"Good." I gave him a puzzled look. 

"Good?" I inquired. 

"I don't want you to get over me." He answered. I swallowed hard. 

"Why? Don't you want me to be happy?" I asked him gently. He shook his head. 

"Of course I want you to be happy, but I want you to be happy with me." I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing heart. I should just walk away. But I didn't want to. 

"Harry. . . I think you should go." I murmured. If I couldn't walk away, he would have to. He frowned slightly. 

"Why? What's the matter?" He asked, seeming genuinely unaware of what he had done.

"I don't want to talk to you anymore. I want to move on Harry. You should too." 

"I've tried Cass, I really have, but I can't." He murmured. I ran my free hand through my hair. 

"Yes you can!" I cried. "You just don't want to!" He shrunk back slightly at my sudden outburst. I took a few deep breaths, closing my eyes. 

"Talk to me." He said. I opened my eyes. 

"I am talking to you." I replied. 

"I mean somewhere else. Away from everyone else." He said, taking a step toward me. I retreated a few steps. 

"You know I can't." I said, shaking my head ever so slightly. 

"Yes you can! You know you can, you just don't want to because of that stupid internship! How many weeks do you have left, Cassidy? One, two?" He asked, his tone sounding increasingly angry. 

"One." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. 

"Exactly. One week, then you're done with them. You don't need them, Cassidy. You know you have the talent to make it on your own." He said gently. I shook my head. 

"It's not that simple Harry. I need money for that, money I don't have." I explained. 

"I'll help you. I'll give you the money you need." He said, a certain urgency in his voice, in his eyes. 

"You've never even seen any of my pictures! You don't even know if they're any good!" I replied. 

"I have." 

"Where?" I asked. 

"In your portfolio." He answered. Before I had time to say I'd never shown him my portfolio, he cut me off. "I know what you're going to say, but I looked at it when you weren't looking once." I gave him an appaulled look and he shrugged. 

"Why would you do that anyway?" I whispered.

"Because I love you." He said simply. 

       It was then that I knew I had to leave. I knew I had to get out. Shaking my head furiously, I pushed past him, trying to find my way to the back exit. I couldn't stand there anymore. I had to get air, I had to get out. I found my way to the back exit, pushing open the door and leaning against the wall outside, taking deep breaths. In, out, in, out. I cradled my face in my hands. What was I doing? What was I going to do. I wasn't sure, but I had a strange feeling it would end up involving Harry.