All Chapters of The Publicist's Plight (Rewritten Version of Harrison inc.) : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

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

SEBASTIANThis is going to come out as a complete shocker, but I'm horrible at talking to girls.Yes, I said it. I'm fucking terrible at talking to girls.Before you get all confused and all, "Sebastian, are you really that hungover?" on me, let me break it down for you a bit.When I say I'm terrible at talking to girls, I mean that I'm terrible at talking to girls that I care about. Throughout my life, I haven't had many girls that I truly cared for. There was Sonya, but she was one of my best friends. There was Gloria, but she was a mother figure to me. I cared about Ingrid, but not the way that she cared about me; I didn't love her like she loved me. Regardless, I always thought th

**For the record: I hate running. Especially from people who are faster than me. But I guess throwing my shoes at Sebastian's face gave me a bit of a head start. But not for long. The minute I run through the kitchen and through the back door, I hear him sprinting through the kitchen behind me. I'm screaming now like this is a horror movie, because this is. When have I ever asked to be involved in this? Guest house. Run to the guest house. That was the initial plan, and I follow through with it until I see a tall, bearded man blocking my way. "That's her, Claude!" Sebastian informs him. Asshole.

** As if the tension between Sebastian and I wasn't bad enough, now we have the fact of more people knowing about us kissing to make it worse. It's currently the next morning. I'm packing my things, as are Lucas, Sarah and Sebastian. We finally leave this afternoon, back to L.A.; back home. I guess I can reflect on what I've learned or what I've accomplished during my stay here, but it would take too long to list. I know now that I do have feelings for Sebastian, and I also know that Garrett has a target set on my head, but he's being really quiet about things, which makes having this said target even worse; I could be shot any moment—metaphorically or literally. When all of my things are packed in their bags, I sit on the edge of the bed. Somehow, I manage to only think about everything I haven't been able to accomplish: Sebastian still didn't get the closure he needed with his family, Sebastian didn't get the publicity he was meant to get

** SEBASTIAN This was the last thing I expected to happen tonight. Of course, everything in my life has been unexpected since I've met Leslie—all in a good way, to strengthen my case. But in her own case, it's an unexpected that no one wants to endure. Sarah and I are bystanders, watching Leslie and her mom argue, or more correctly, Leslie's mother yell at her while she tries to break free from her hold. Shit, I should do something, but is it in my jurisdiction to? I feel fucking horrible for not intercepting anything but I don't know if it's my place to. "Your father left because of you!" Leslie's mom screamed at her—Franc