Rising Stars [H.S]

16.

song for this chapter^
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Harry Styles
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Gardenias, vanilla, and lavender.

That's what she smelled like.

And I can't get it out of my head.

From the minute I walked into her dressing room that night of her last show, the scent of her has been taunting and teasing me since. I don't know if it was her shampoo, perfume, or if she just naturally smells like that, but whatever it is, it drives me crazy.

I know. Ok, I know I sound like a fucking psychopath, and hell— maybe I am.

It infuriates me when I think about the fact that that douchebag boyfriend of hers gets her to himself. I haven't met the guy— but I can tell he doesn't deserve her. He's probably some stuck up rich prick who only uses her for her fame.

But why should I care?

Yet— I can't help but watch the way her lips turned upwards when she was laughing with me. The way her cheeks turned red when I placed my hand on top of her, or the way her nose would slightly scrunch when she got angry and furrowed her brows.

God does it drive me crazy when she's angry.

Don't get me wrong— it's annoying as fuck when we are arguing. It's exhausting, no matter what I do or say she always has a comeback. I don't meant to snap at her, but I don't have a lot of patience. But as mush as it annoys the hell out of me, she looks hot as hell when she is arguing.

I can tell she has— personal problems. I know that sounds bad, but let me explain.

She's timid as fuck, and I mean as fuck. She tenses up anytime I get within two feet of her, and it drives me crazy. I could tell by the way I put her hair clip between my teeth that one night that she's so fucking innocent. She's so innocent— it makes her even more of a tease. But that's beside the point.

Not only is she timid, she has bad anxiety.

I don't know much about people with anxiety, but I do know that it's a very difficult thing to struggle with. My sister has anxiety, and I remember always having to comfort her when she would have attacks.

I could tell Olivia was growing anxious by the way she was picking and pinching her nail beds, she almost made herself bleed. She was avoiding eye contact too, and her knee was bouncing up and down. I didn't mean to make her feel anxious— that's the last thing I wanted.

But it is so infuriating that she can't realize that she's dating a manipulative prick. I swear to you— I would've answered that phone and talked to him myself if I could have. But, I knew that was crossing the line. I do have some respect for her privacy.

But, despite all of that— I do not care about her.

Honestly I couldn't care less. Sure she might be pretty, hot, funny, smart, talented and other shit, but I am not interested.

I've said this once and I'll say it again; relationships are absolute bullshit.

They confine you and hold you back in life. They trap you in an endless void of feeling the responsibility to stay loyal to someone simply because you've gone through the same old bullshit cycle of "dating". I mean who even came up with it in the first place? It's fucking miserable. I am not ever doing dating— never again.

It's simply a waste of time. I am not getting married, so why spend my time trying to find someone who is the other half of me? It's pointless. Sure, I'll sleep around and convince a girl that I am interested for one night, but the second they become clingy— I'm out of there. I can't stand girls who have expectations from you right after you get with them once; I mean seriously? What are you expecting from a millionaire rockstar?