A part of me thinks that I must be hallucinating.
What are the odds that Garrett Harrison would happen to be attending this function and I wouldn't know about it? And it isn't just some random drop-by; his tux says otherwise.
"Mr. Harrison. What are you doing here?"
He smiles, similar to the way he would smile at me months before. But now, it doesn't look too genuine in my eyes.
"Why, I wanted to surprise everyone with my appearance. I came a little late, but it's the thought that counts, correct?"
I manage a laugh. "Yes, yes, I suppose. I just...I'm just shocked to see you. I feel as if it's been so long."
**I'm packing my things and going back to L.A. Or am I? No. I'm going to stay here, and tell Sebastian the truth instead of running away from everything. But is that the best choice? I'm in my hotel room, staring at my suitcase that lays on the ground. The room is quiet; my phone is on silent. I can't dare face the text messages from Sarah or even Sebastian asking why I immediately left the charity ball after I rushed out of the ball room Sebastian and I danced in. Unable to make a decision, I sit at the foot of my bed and sigh. Garrett's "threat" to me doesn't even seem like something that happened; it's hard to come to terms with finding out the man you practically looked up to was wearing a mask the entire time. After our encounter, I know have
SEBASTIAN"I told Remy Callaghan that you would love to go out for lunch on Monday. That's a good sign! Getting Remy Callaghan to ask you out for lunch? What you said to that reporter about capitalists must have definitely did it."Sarah's voice is going in one ear and going out the other. Usually I'm open to hear about whatever the hell she has to say; she is my manager after all, and whatever she says must be important. But I can't help but keep my mind on the same fucking thing—the same fucking person. All morning, all my mind has been chanting:Leslie, Leslie, Leslie, Leslie!Can my brain just shut the fuck up for once!?"Hello, hell
**"I'm pretty sure you, out of all people, know that Sebastian can become quite...difficult at times." Ingrid chuckles—a laugh low enough for me barely to hear. I can sense that she only laughs to try and make the situation more comfortable for herself. But for me? I'm still sitting on the edge of my seat. The fact that anything deep and hidden being revealed about Sebastian is so intriguing to me makes me question a lot of things. "Yes, I'm aware of that pretty well," I answer. "So when I first took him on as a client, it was really hard for him and I to cooperate. He was very headstrong, stubborn, and unwilling to listen to any proposition that involved him changing his lifestyle. I wasn't trying to change him, per say, but rather tone down his behavior in the public eye."
The most awkward of awkward silences is plaguing the room at this very moment. Darcy stares at me, and I stare at her. We're both unable to say anything; the lasting effect of Sebastian's wrath renders us speechless. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Darcy." She forces a smile. "Don't apologize, Leslie. I should be the one apologizing; I'm the one who lied to you." I sigh and pace the room. Darcy's eyes, big and curious, follow my movement. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you couldn't say no to him anyway. Then again, who can say no to 'Sebastian Harrison.'" I catch myself saying his name like an upset five-year-old. Christ,
** From what I'm about to say, I hope some of you, at least, can relate to the words that I'm going to express. Metaphorically speaking, have you ever dug a hole too deep to climb out of? A hole deepened from your own curiosity or ego wielding the shovel? A hole so vast in depth that the only way left to go is down? That is how I feel right now; that is the best explanation for what I feel right now. I'm not sure whether or not I became this invested due to my curiosity or my ego that claimed it knew how to fix the issue. Maybe it was both. I don't know, but what I do know for sure is that I have dug a hole too deep to climb out of. When I first met Sebastian Harrison—the self-proclaimed Playboy and the poster child for debauc
** November 5th, 2002 I heard Gloria yelling at my father in his study. It was late, or early actually—around 1 in the morning. The house was dark and quiet except for the bright and loud part of the place where they were yelling at. I went downstairs to try and hear exactly what they were yelling about. "You just don't get it, Mr. Harrison! There are a bunch of people who live in those houses and you building over there is gonna leave them homeless!" Right. My father's company's new construction project. Harrison Inc. has signed off on a new real estate deal that will wipe out the homes in some part of L.A. to build fancy condominiums
We barricade ourselves in the library after Elizabeth leaves. By us, I mean Sebastian, Loretta and I. Everyone else left to usher Elizabeth out the house and to the hospital, but Sebastian refused to go with them. Knowing the family that has come to visit would want to confront Sebastian about him staying behind, he decided to lock the library doors. He let a few maids come in to clean Elizabeth's 'mess,' that she left behind, but soon after he locked the doors again and kept them that way. "My mom told her family not to come into the library at all while they're here," he explained to us as to why he decided to hide out here. That did little to blind the sight I see; Sebastian wanting to lock himself away with the only two people here who know the full extent of everything going on.
i look at him and see someone who is the opposite of mehow can I enjoy his presence, I think to myself?but we're more alike than I like to admitmore than he likes to admit, definitelywe're more similar than we accepthe's very muchlike mesometimes I wonder what it is about him that intrigues me so muchi'm sure it's the fact that I can't help but fix something that is brokenand that's what he is, in case you don't know: brokenbut it's more than thatmaybe it's his eyes; they're beautiful, and prying and curious and bright and youthfullike mebut they're also sad, and confused, and trapped and lonelylike meso maybe my consensus issince I can't repair the damage done to myselfill repair the damage done to somebody e