T/W: Sexual assault. Please skip if you don't want to read about that particular topic.

I'm not going to the office today.

It's the first day of shooting, and I have a lot of work preparing for that. I spent the whole of last week trying to book venues and trying to get together a lighting crew - on top of my usual nine-to-five.

A publicist never sleeps.

I can definitely attest to that. I haven't slept in days, and I can just feel my brain try to switch off - if only for just a second.

Just two days, then I can sleep all I want.

I've never been invited to another after-work rendezvous after the one I'd had with Patricia and her friends. Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it. Am I noble enough to accept that my veganism means I may not have as many friends?

Sometimes I think I am not.

I have spent some time with Jamal - my director for this shoot. He grew up in Los Angeles; his parents are famous Hollywood actors; he tried to break into the industry, but he failed and came to London hoping he could live a more private life and make his own name outside of his parents'.

I remember reading a few comments about him on Twitter about how untalented he is. People on the internet go really hard. He ended up trying to commit suicide in his teenage years:

"I'm glad I survived. But I'm still not happy with how I was just sensationalised, and my story was just... a joke, you know what I'm sayin'?"

I know. I remember people criticising him because he eats caviar every other day and yet he had the audacity to try and commit suicide.

"Sometimes, I look at the industry today with just-I don't know. Resentment? Anger? I don't know. Like, suddenly, there's all this talk about mental health and I think: 'Where was this when I was growing up?' you know what I'm sayin'? Like, now mental health is kind of celebrated and treated with this importance, and everyone is suddenly a victim. I'm not sure how genuine it all is, but it's what I needed then and I've suddenly been forgotten, you know what I'm sayin'?"

But he also admits that his parents' image gave him a few perks:

"Meeting all these amazing guys, you know what I'm sayin'? Living in a palace; knowing that I'll be secure even if I don't work. That's why I got the chance to explore my creativity and take all these risks that no one else can take, you know what I'm sayin'? I'm grateful for that. Fortunately, I've built myself a name as a director; but, even if I hadn't, it wouldn't have been a train smash."

He's almost wise beyond his years, something he's attributed to growing up in the spotlight and being subjected to the downright abuse he's been subjected to.

As a plus, he's also vegan:

"I know. No one wants to hang out with you because they think you're judging them for eating meat. Yeah, I've been through that as well. And the questions: 'What if you were stranded in an island and there was only a chicken to eat?' 'Do you eat fish - fish isn't meat.' 'What about plants - aren't they living things?' When I get those questions I kind of wish I'd died when I tried to commit suicide."

And a marijuana enthusiast:

"Weed is life. In fact, I think it should be illegal not to use weed. I think it's sacred and it's certainly better than cigarettes and everything you're allowed to do here. That's got to be the thing I hate about London - not being able to smoke freely. I don't understand all the conservativeness. I'm telling you now, the queen probably has a joint once a day. I'on know, man. I think pot is to the twenty-first century what coffee was to-- like, the fucking Age of Enlightenment, I'on know!"

Honestly, the worst thing about him, so far, has been that he won't let up about the marijuana thing: when I told him I don't smoke, he told me I should try it again. He insisted that it's not addictive or harmful even after I'd told him of my previous struggles with substance abuse. It got annoying and I didn't speak to him for an hour following that argument. He eventually apologised, but still said that he stands by what he'd said, and we agreed we wouldn't talk about weed anymore.

Outside of that, we've gotten along pretty well.

"How is it coming along?" he asks, walking towards me.

We decided to do a safe shoot for Guess: just Alejandro and a football in a bare, black and white setting.

"Kind of good? I don't know; you'd expect that this shoot would be the easiest thing to set up, but the lighting crew isn't here, and this shoot is almost entirely all about lighting!"

Jamal chuckles. "Yeah, lighting is always late. Always."

I hear myself sigh. "That is doing little to calm my nerves."

"If you smoked pot, I would suggest we have a small session to calm the nerves."

"Jamal, we agreed we weren't going to talk about that." I point a warning finger at him. "What do you think of everything so far?"

"I think it looks great. Like you said, we need lighting here to have a proper discussion. Alejandro here? I'd love to meet the guy."

"Why? Is he your hero or something?"

"I heard some great things about him; I want to see what he's like."

"Don't bother. The first time I saw him, he was on his period. The last time I saw him, he was on his period. So, you probably won't enjoy his company. I don't understand him much. Like, shouldn't he be just a tad bit nicer - coming from a small village in Catalonia? What does everyone see in him? I don't know?"

"You like him?"

"What?" I turn to find Jamal wearing the biggest grin.

"Aye, I'm just saying: you seem to be bothered by the smallest thing in him. Like, so what if you didn't like him when you saw him. Why do you care?"

I stammer. "I don't. I-I just can't see what everyone likes in him."

"He took Catalonia to the semi-finals in La Liga. For reference: Catalonia has never made it to the semis in La Liga."

"Whatever. He's just an arrogant son of bitch."

"Yeah, you like him," Jamal mumbles, making his way past me.

You know, we were getting along so well; but I'm starting to dislike him.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. Where do you think we should have this?" he asks of a bench I'd brought for the shoot but am now getting unsure of.

"I don't know. Do you think we need it?"

He pouts. "I'm not sure. How's about we try shooting without it and then with it and we'll see which one works then?"

He is the complete opposite of Edward. Edward is always sure of himself. He knows what he wants and what he doesn't, and he'll let you know quickly. Sometimes I enjoy that about him, but he can also a bit overbearing; so, I guess it's kind of refreshing to work with Jamal - completely laid back, more collaborative, and he speaks slower so I hear every single syllable he says.

Alejandro walks in the room and I'm overcome by the same birch and patchouli from the other day. His confidence just seems to confirm what the fragrance is saying: 'I am power.' He looks more laid back in an all-white ensemble and sunglasses, his hair slicked back.

Perfection.

His face stoic, he asks where the changing rooms are.

"This is a warehouse," I tell him.

He cocks an eyebrow. "So?"

Jamal and I exchange glances, and we burst in a guffaw of laughter. "I see why you hate him," Jamal says suddenly, causing me to gasp in shock. That's not just something you can burst out! Especially when the subject is right here!

Alejandro turns to look at me, his eyebrow shooting further up his hair.

I clear my throat. "You can change in your car."

He lets out a humourless laughter. "My car?"

"Your car harms the planet by being too big anyway; you could do other things in it to compensate for that."

He leans into me, his scent and warmth sending me into a state of paralysis immediately. "Not as funny as last time, but I'll give you a point for being sharp," he whispers and lets out a low laughter before pulling back.

His laugh sounds Spanish.

Is that possible?

"I like you," he continues. "Date - me and you; tonight?"

What the fuck?

"No!" My voice comes out more emphatically than I'd intended.

He smirks. "No?"

"No."

"Can we talk about work?" Jamal quips. "The lighting crew still isn't here."

I feel my cheeks heating up. I wipe the moisture on my palms off on my dress. "I'll just call them; Edward's taught me how to deal with them."

About thirty minutes later, the lighting crew comes in, claiming that they'd forgotten the route and got lost. They are just the worst.

The shoot goes well. One thing I'll say Jamal has in common with Edward - and which I like - is that he knows when it's time to work, and he doesn't mix it with pleasure. All teasing ceases and we go strictly into business. Again, he doesn't go as hard as Edward, but that is completely refreshing for me.

I have a date with Raven today; so, I bid everyone goodbye and go to my car, driving straight to my apartment. I take a quick, cold shower and reapply my makeup and change into clothes that don't smell like sunburn. Raven's apartment building is not too far from mine, so I decide I'll just walk there.

I could use the exercise anyway.

"You won't guess what!" She beams excitedly as I walk into her apartment. It's as big as a matchbox - as is mine. Unlike my apartment, however, hers is better kept, the greatest evidence of human inhabitance being a few dishes in the sink. She's much cleaner than me, and the space doesn't feel quite as claustrophobic as mine.

I need to do better.

"What?" I ask, a slight smile crossing my face.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Are you fine?"

"I'm fine, just tired."

Her excited smile comes back. "Well, this ought to cheer you up. Banksy is in town and has set up a pop-up exhibition and guess who got you a ticket to see it?"

As she'd suggested, I feel my spirits rise. "What?" I ask, this time with more disbelief than the last time.

"Yeah! Raven: one; Edward: nought."

Just as I was thinking Raven was awesome, she goes and says that.

"Obviously, you'll have to pay me back for it, but I think I did a great job, no?"

I plaster on a smile. "Of course, you're awesome."

She flexes a non-existent bicep and whispers: "Yes!"

"What time does the exhibition start?"

"Eight pm. You need to refresh?"

"Already did."

"Good. Harry's joining us. You're cool with that, right?"

I suck in a breath.

Am I cool with that?

"Of course."

She smiles. "Awesome."

Raven explains that she's got a runny tummy today, and I spend the rest of the day telling her about my work and what I do. As soon as Harry sets foot inside, though, I cease to exist. They gaze into each other's eyes longingly and feed each other disgustingly.

One of the reasons that my relationship with Harry never succeeded was that I didn't like the way he chews. And I still don't.

"Excited?" Harry asks when Raven goes to the bathroom.

"Yeah," I answer, trying to keep things as brief as possible.

"Raven tells me you like Banksy. I do too."

I shoot my eyebrows up. "That's great, Harry."

"Yeah, just... thought you might find that interesting."

I don't.

I decide to pull my phone out and check my Instagram. I think I'm a more passive user of Instagram, just watching everyone share every detail of their life. Sure, ninety percent of it is fake, but everything in this world is fake, isn't it? Ultimately, these are strangers, and we always show our best side to strangers; so, I always find it weird when people lament that everything on Instagram is fake.

Instagram is like porn: take the best scenes, enhance them with an awesome pose and share. I like that.

Does that make me a voyeuse?

"Time to go," Raven announces. When did she get back on the couch?

I check the time and find that it's a few minutes past seven. "I left my car. Should I go get it?"

Raven rolls her eyes. "You can come with us."

Harry drives us through the rusty part of town into the more upscale, artsy Chelsea. Raven in the passenger seat, they continue laughing at whatever they've been laughing at since we were at the apartment, and Raven doesn't forget to lean into, and swap saliva with him every time we hit a red light. I also don't miss Harry staring into the rear-view mirror after each of their sessions.

Watching the buildings and cars pass me by is more interesting.

As soon as Harry finds a spot to park in, we all step out of the car and make our way to the art gallery. The guests are all impeccably dressed, fitting in with the Chelsea aesthetic. And then there's us: a goth, a piss-poor girl and a punk, rocking up in a space that was clearly not meant for us. They don't seem to mind, though. At most, they rake us with their eyes and carry on with whatever they were doing.

We walk around the gallery mindlessly, just observing the striking paintings. Politics; British identity; Brexit. What does Brexit mean for other parts of the United Kingdom? What does Brexit mean for Scotland? Is this the start of a neo-Thatcher era? Because I know very little about that era and I'd like to keep it that way.

Immigration. The immigration problem. The probe into immigration.

Am I an immigrant?

I don't know. I mean, I think I am. Does Brexit mean I have to go? Is that not what the papers are saying? Is that not what Scotland wants?

But I was born in Britain!

"Those ones must have bought the first-class tickets," Raven announces as we walk past a closed off section where people sit listening to Banksy speak. They fan their faces and nod a bit too excessively. I can only hope Banksy is convincing them how ridiculous all the headlines in the newspapers are.

I wish I was a billionaire.

"Me too," Raven says.

"What?" I ask, confused as to whether she's talking to me or Harry.

"What you said-that you want to be a billionaire. Me too."

"Oh." So, I said it out loud? "Wouldn't that be something?"

"I know, right?"

We continue our mindless walk, and I make notes of the paintings I would buy if I had the money. The VIPs are probably on a bidding war right now, challenging and intimidating each other with obscene amounts of money. Is it so bad that I wish I was one of them right now?

Losing my footing, I feel myself glide on the shiny floor; and, just as I'm about to hit the hard concrete, I feel a pair of hard, strong arms wrap around me. My body makes contact with Harry's; our eyes meet. Our faces so close yet so far. He smells of cheap cologne, but it's not offensive. In fact, it smells familiar - starkly different from Alejandro's smell. My eyes find his lips.

Is this history repeating itself?

I want to thank him for saving me, but I can't seem to summon my voice. Harry is a disgusting piece of shit! I can't be sucked back!

"Okay, you horny lovebirds! That's enough; break it up!" Raven teases, breaking us apart.

We walk on mindlessly.

Parliament is a joke. Who cares? The people on the ground are suffering. The people on the ground are scared. They think they're losing their jobs to immigrants. They think they're paying more money than they were ten years ago. Who cares? Britons are scared their culture is being diluted. They think they're losing their culture to globalisation. Who cares?

The people in parliament are watching on while filling their pockets to the brim. They don't care if the Britons are misinformed! In fact, they bask in Britons' misinformation. For as long as immigrants and anyone but them and their corruption are seen as the enemy, they won't get called out for their bullshit; they won't be held to account for their complacency. That's why they make no attempts to correct the misinformation.

Raven tells us that she needs to use the bathroom and runs along to it. In a second, I hear a low, masculine voice behind me:

"You felt it, right?"

I turn to face him. "Felt what?"

"The chemistry. I know what I felt, Edgar, and you want me. I want you too."

"What are you talking about?"

He takes a jab at the air in front of him while swallowing a profane word. "That! When I caught you! I know you felt it. I know you still want me. I see it in your eyes whenever Raven is around. You don't want her around. I don't too. You're so much more beautiful; so much more intelligent. You're still my muse. I know you still want me."

I raise my wrist and throw it to his face, but he catches it mid-air and uses it to pull me closer to him. "I'm sorry." I feel my own voice break.

Why the fuck am I apologising? He should be apologising, not me!

"Let go," I say through gritted teeth. He doesn't listen. He leans into me and plants his lips on mine. His breath is hot on my face as he tries to pry my lips open with his tongue.

"C'mon, Edgar. I know you want to."

I turn my face the other way and grab my wrist back from him. I send my other hand flying and land it on his cheek. My breathing has quickened, and we've attracted some attention from our neighbours. Harry's pupils darken and his face hardens in anger. Just then, Raven walks up to us.

"What are you guys doing?" she asks.

"I need to go." My voice breaks. I make my way to the exit, but I feel a hand wrap around my wrist. I turn. It's Raven.

"What's wrong?"

"Just-- leave me alone." I shrug her off violently and continue on my way to the exit.

Pulling my phone out, I request an Uber. Five minutes until it's here.

A few people come out to check up on me and see if I'm fine. Some give me directions to the local police station. I smile and thank them, and they make their way back inside.

Of course, I stormed off again. I don't know if this is a sign from the universe that I should stop going on dates with Raven or if this is really how everyone's evening is bound to end when they go on dates with their friends who also happen to be dating their exes.

I take a walk down the street just so those two don't get me if they decide to come and talk to me. The last thing I want to do is talk about what just happened. I can only imagine all the lies Harry must be feeding to her right now.

Jonah:

where r u

down the street. sorry. pls pick me up there

A few seconds later, a car pulls up in front of me. I can't make its colour out in the dark, but I'd assume that it's black or navy blue. The man in the driver's seat turns to me. "Edgar?"

I knew that my driver would be a man when I requested the ride, but now I'm not so sure I'm entirely confident of my safety. "Yes."

His lips widen in a smile. He seems nice enough. "Well then, step in."

I don't want to give him hassles, I really don't; so, why do my legs stick to the ground when I try to make my way to the car? He notices. "Everything alright?"

No. Nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay.

"I-I don't." I let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry."

I force myself to step inside. He looks at me through the rear-view. "You come from the exhibition?"

I nod. He smiles as he puts the car on drive. "But it's not over yet."

Share trip with friends: Edward.

✔Trip shared with Edward

"Edgar?"

"Hm?"

"Am I boring you?"

I force a smile. "No; I'm just-don't really feel like talking."

He nods and reaches for the stereo. "Music?"

"No."

And so it goes, my trip in a car as quiet as the cemetery, on a night as dark as sin. This is the kind of stuff horror is made of.

When we finally make it, I pay him his fare, and he studies me again - this time against the backdrop of Edward's house. I should be so lucky.

I hit the buzzer at the gate as Jonah drives away. The first to come check is their dog, Husky. He barks aggressively at me until Edward beckons him. Then, he presses a button which opens the gates as he waits for me on his porch.

I make my way to him slowly and he pulls me in an embrace when I finally make it to him. It is at that time that I feel brave enough to shed a tear. He hushes me, his fingers making light strokes to my hair as he calms me down. Safety settles deep in my senses, and I feel myself slowly come down from the heightened emotions.

Edward holds me at arms' length and analyses me. "Want to talk?"

I shake my head and he nods, leading me inside. Husky rises from his resting position and follows us inside, panting as he lightly jogs inside. We go to the kitchen and Edward pours me a glass of coconut milk. He always knows what I need, doesn't he?

"I've biscuits too if you want," he teases with a playful smile on his lips.

"Fuck you." I laugh lightly.

After I finish my milk, he rises from the stool. "It's late. I can show you to a guest room."

I look at the clock for the first time since we left for the exhibition. 22:48. The exhibition has to be coming to a close now. I nod and follow Edward again as he leads me through the long passages and many doors to the guest room. On our way, he instructs Husky to 'stay' when we get to his cot.

"Sleep tight. Tomorrow?"

"Okay," I respond and start throwing the pillows to the floor. Stepping underneath the sheets, I'm engulfed by the soft mattress; the softest I've slept in this year. I guess I deserve some comfort after this evening.

Maybe Edward should adopt me.

***

"So, what happened last night?" Edward asks as he takes my bowl away. After struggling to fit two spoons of the oatmeal he'd made, I'd decided I wanted to wait for it to cool. That was an hour ago.

"I don't really want to talk about it," I tell him, and he cocks an eyebrow with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Tough."

"Hey Edgar," Léo chimes as he comes down, fully dressed in his suit and tie, ready for a productive day. "Hey babe," he smiles down at Edward as he grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter.

"Bye Edgar. Bye betty." He tries to lean in to kiss Edward, but the latter's demeanour changes to resemble anger. He shoves Léo off.

"I'm sorry." Léo laughs. "I'm just teasing you."

"Whatever." Edward pouts.

Léo's voice goes down an octave. "I'm sorry. Embrasse-moi."

He tries - again - to lean in for a kiss, and this time it works. I guess it's true what they say about French being the language of romance.

And, just as quickly as he came in, he is out.

After a few seconds' worth of gushing, Edward assumes a serious demeanour once again, his eyes set on me daringly. I sigh. "Okay, but can I tell you after work? I don't want to run late."

He nods. "You'll take an Uber?"

"I guess."

He nods again and walks me to the gate when my Uber arrives. He pulls me in for a hug and wishes me a good day.

I think that's what I need right now, but I'm not sure if it's even going to make a difference. I wish I could just forget. I wish I could erase last night and start it all afresh. Everything was going so well. What changed?

The Uber drops me off at my apartment building and I change into clean clothes. I really need to clean my room now. Today, after my date with Edward, I will do so.

I go down to my car and drive to today's location. This time, we're shooting outdoors for Calvin Klein, and it's not as far as yesterday's location. In a second, I put my car in park and step out.

I make my way to the location and find Jamal finishing up a joint. We just stand there in near silence, broken often by a short question from Jamal, receiving one of the brief answers: 'Yes' or 'No' from me.

"Edgar, is everything okay?" he asks out of the blue.

"What is it with everyone asking if I'm okay?" I scream. "I'm fucking fine!"

His eyes widen in shock. I sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm fine. Just-I think I'm a bit stressed. I'll be fine once we're done with this shoot."

The look he gives me tells me he doesn't believe me, but he lets it go anyway. I step away from him and just try to find something to do. I need to find something to fix.

Alejandro's Cadillac SUV stops right in front of my Beetle, and his bodyguard steps out and leads him out. He looks up at me and smiles. I turn to look down at the cliff where Jamal was standing just a few seconds ago. The cliff dives down into a large expanse of barren land - the complete opposite of what is on the cliff itself.

How much effort would I have to put into my jump to die?

"Do you have a Band-Aid?" Alejandro asks in a slightly high-pitched voice. I turn to find him in white shorts and a white t-shirt, twirling a lily between his fingers and donning the biggest grin I've ever seen on him. "I just scraped my knee falling for you."

I push past him and walk aimlessly. He follows behind me. "You don't like that one? I have more. I was wondering if you're an artist because you were so good at drawing me in. I'm sorry, were you talking to me? No? Would you like to? Oh no, wait! I think you'll like this one: Are you a camera? Because I look at you and smile."

And that's when I lose it and feel my body shake as I laugh boisterously. He laughs slightly too. "That's it. Did it work?"

"Fuck you," I announce and continue walking aimlessly.

He continues following me. "You don't sound like your usual self. Are you alright?"

I surprise myself when I don't lose my shit the way I had with Jamal. Instead, I find myself just thinking, my head just going back to yesterday. I didn't want to relive the moment, but it seems the universe wants me to.

"Edgar?" Alejandro asks just before I'm able to go back to it all.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I guess."

"You guess? That doesn't sound right."

"Yeah, I don't really want to talk about it."

He pauses. "Okay. Let's talk about something else, then."

"Like?"

"Us."

I laugh for the second time today. "What about us?"

"I dunno. Like... how you want to go out on a date with me?" Lull. He grabs my wrist gently, not aggressively like Harry yesterday.

"I'm right, aren't I?" A confident smile plays on his lips.

"Not even. I'm trying to think of ways to get you off my tail."

"C'mon. Let's go out for one date and see how it goes."

I stop. He stops too. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Do you always repeat people's answers?"

And we keep walking like that - only now, a silence settles between us. He studies my face for a long time and, at one point, asks what I'm thinking about. I wrestle with just being frank with him and coming up with some lie to shut him up.

I mean, on one hand, this guy is a complete stranger to me, and I can't just tell him such a personal moment - especially when it's still so fresh. I haven't even told Edward yet, why would I tell him? And on the other, he's the only person that managed to lift my spirits. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just tell him? I don't know.

I eventually decide to go with whatever's in the middle:

"I'm just... I'm just thinking of men in my life, you know? I don't want to chase you away with some sob story or a scary story, but I think men have fucked me over, you know? Like, I think men have tried to take advantage of me and they always get extremely close to succeeding, which kind of makes me unsure just how I feel about men as a whole. Are men good enough to make me feel safe? Are they good enough to not make me feel like I have to walk around carrying a knife, you know?

"But at the same time, I've had men who have been completely wonderful to me. I think of my friend, Edward. I think of Jamal. I think of my dad. Amazing men. Men I want to spend time with, you know? It kind of polarises me, in a way, because on one end, I'm like: men equals bad; but on the other, I know that men can be incredibly loving; I know men are literally human, just like I am. It's like, is it just two sides of a coin or is it a spectrum? I don't know."

He keeps quiet as I speak, and again a few seconds after I'm done. Then he looks up at me and gives me an awkward smile. "About that date..."

Of course, he'd want to pull out now. Typical men.

"I'm kidding!" He laughs. "I'm kidding. I get it - I think. I guess men are very weird to women, and toxic masculinity is real, so it makes you think: what are the odds that a man you like could easily wake up tomorrow and just-I dunno, be a disgusting jerk, I guess?"

"Right?" I'm glad he gets it because I was starting to lose hope in men. But it's moments like these that remind me that masculinity is not inherently toxic, and that Edward is not good to me because he's gay; he's just a good man.

"Does this mean I'm good enough to go out with you?" he asks, a playful smile gracing his face now.

We continue in that playful vein until we make it back to the location of the shoot. We find that everything has been set up, and I thank everyone as we get down to work. The shoot ends up being the best of the three I've done with Alejandro. Jamal eyes me suspiciously from time to time, but I reassure him that I'm fine.

After the shoot, I bid the team goodbye and tell Jamal to come by my house tomorrow so we can decide on which photos work for each campaign.

"My car or yours?" Alejandro asks once I'm done. I look at him, confused. "The date?"

"That's today? I can't do it today. I've got a thing with Edward and-" I stop myself midsentence.

"And?"

"Nothing."

"Okay." He shrugs. "So, you are a compulsive liar."

"I've got to clean my apartment," I blurt out.

He smirks. "Already preparing it for when I come around? Well, that's taking it slow."

I knew that's what it'd look like and that's why I didn't want to say it!

"It's not like that! Just-" I groan. "See you around."

"Wait! Let me have your number, at least."

We exchange numbers and I'm on my way.

Edward closes the screen of his computer as I step inside. He'd opened the gates for me, and I was welcomed by Husky, less aggressively than yesterday. Today, he was excited to see me and tried to jump on me multiple times.

After exchanging greetings and Edward noting the shift in my mood, he asks: "I guess this is where we talk about yesterday?"

I sigh. "Oh, that."

Pause. "If you don't want to tell me, I guess that's fine. You just didn't look too good yesterday and I thought you might want to talk, but it seems you're better now and-"

"Harry kissed me." Lull. "I didn't want him to, but he kept pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing. There was this thing he kept on saying: 'I know you want me' and I just-I was paralysed. He grabbed my wrist and put his lips on mine. I pushed him off and slapped him and-I think Raven tried to stop me when I tried to go. I was so scared. He told me I was beautiful and smart; but I felt really bad, and I think I told him I was sorry. I don't even know why I said that; I just-did."

Somewhere in the middle of that speech, Edward had moved to sit right next to me and I guess I started crying because he was wiping away tears from my face. "Where was Raven when he-did what he did to you?"

"I don't know. Bathroom, I think, but I don't remember too well."

"But it was at her house?"

"We were at some gallery in Chelsea. Banksy had an exhibition there."

He pauses. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"It's okay. It's not your fault. Besides, I'm fine now." I force a smile, but I know he can see just how fake it is.

"So, what now?"

My brows knit in confusion.

"What will you do about Harry? Do you want me to deal with him?"

I let out a laughter. This is what I need!

"No. I don't know; I guess my greatest bet is to avoid him?"

He shakes his head profusely, growing angrier with each shake. "Bullshit. He can't get away with this."

"Please let it go, Edward. I don't want any more drama."

"It's not drama. It's justice."

"Please." I can barely hear my voice.

His face softens when his eyes land on me. "Are you sure?"

"A hundred percent. Like I said, I'm feeling better now."

The conversation keeps flowing until love sexy replaces the funk bible, as we swim further and further away from the macabre.