As soon as I shut the door my eyes filled with tears. I slumped against the wall and sat down burying my face in my hands. Sobs were just about to escape my throat when a loud buzzing noise from my phone  penetrated my ears. I took it out to reveal an alarm notification that I had tennis in a half hour. After I clicked to stop the alarm, I went immediately to settings to change my wallpaper from Damon's face, but then something in me prevented me from doing that. Such a simple thing as removing a picture kind of felt like the end of me and him although we were just taking a break. So I left it and left his apartment, feeling fucked up and hungry, extremely of both.

Tennis kept me busy for most of the day, which was good because I didn't want to think for thinking would lead to another crying breakdown, and I just couldn't afford that in my schedule. So I shoved all my worry down and kept cruising through the day. After tennis, was a practice for a fashion week coming up, I had to go practice my walk and look at a few pieces, that took a while too. Having nothing else to do afterwards, normally I would have met up with Damon today, but obviously couldn't, so I decided for some retail therapy. I called some of my friends and we went shopping on 5th Avenue for items my parents would have cringed at from the price.

I finally reached my apartment and set the many shopping bags on the couch. My head rested on the gray fuzzy carpet right next to the couch and I just peered up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. I really tried to keep everything down, but as if a cap opened in me tears started flowing immediately. Loud sobs erupted from my shaking body. My hand's wouldn't stop trembling as I ran them through my long tangled tresses. Getting up from the carpet, now wet with my tears, I stumbled over to the freezer looking for a tub of Ben and Jerry's rocky road that could ease off my feelings. Nothing was left so I just went to my bed, closed the blinds and sat there in the dark. As weird as it sounded I wanted to let tears out but there were none left so I was just sitting there replaying last night in my head over and over. The overpowering headache, the slow unzipping of that dress, the amount of pain I felt as Damon forced himself into my limp almost unconscious body. I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed a coat with a large hoodie just in case I ran into paparazzi. My apartment door slammed shut behind me as I sulked into the darkness.

Going down the elevator my reflection met my eyes for the first time in almost a day. My hair was messy and frizzy with tufts sticking out everywhere from my bun. The elaborate makeup I had done yesterday lasted me through today but it had all disappeared when I cried and now my eyes were a bright bloodshot red. I started to bite my nails but then I noticed a little bruise and tiny bright cuts that were starting to clot on my wrist. Not having changed the whole day I rolled up the sleeve to see my arm. There were cuts and bruises everywhere. I put the sleeve down and tried to get the gory scene of my own body out of my head.

As I tur
ned the corner to his temporary penthouse home, I kept reassuring myself that I was going there to distract myself, not to open up. It was almost one at night and I was hoping he would still be awake. I was going to see Harry who was in New York for a few months. There were a few teenagers outside the apartment building holding big cameras, probably staking out the place in the hopes of Harry to come out of his top floor apartment. I squeezed my way through them, tightening my hood and lowering my gaze so they wouldn't notice me. The doorman let me in when I took off my hood, facing away from the teenagers. Inside there were lush velvet floors with vintage architecture. The elevator looked much the same. When the elevator stopped, I got off and walked to the end of the hallway where his home was. Right before pressing the doorbell button, I saw a small reflection of myself on the glass of the peephole. I took a deep breath, and hoped my bloodshot eyes would subside.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

I rang the doorbell and heard shuffling from inside. I braced myself.

Third person POV:

Harry shut his songwriting journal, satisfied with the progress he made today. He finished writing Treat People With Kindness, and was starting his next song, although he wasn't sure what to call it yet. He was about to climb into the soft inviting comforter on his bed when he heard trilly ring of the doorbell. Slightly confused he walked over to the door, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

He was wearing a matching set of Gucci shorts and a flannel. The flannel was unbuttoned completely and it revealed his sculpted abs, his many tattoos, and of course his usual gold cross necklace. He opened the door and took a step back. To his astonishment, he saw Davina-Blair outside his door. She looked nothing like Davina though, this girl was wearing over-sized clothes that didn't look to be hers, her curly hair was extremely messy and eyes bloodshot. She was gnawing her lip and looked as if she was going to scream.

Davina-Blair was looking down at the ground, avoiding eye contact, she immediately regretted coming here, he didn't need to see her like this.

"Davina-Blair are you alright?" Harry said coming closer to her. Davina took a step away and looked up at him. She stared right into the familiar sea of green of his eyes, his eyebrows were scrunched in concern. Her lip started quivering like a little kid. Relax she kept yelling inside her head, but she couldn't get ahold of that concept. She covered her face in her hands and kneeled down on the floor, then sat down completely. Harry didn't want to pry too much so he stepped out of the apartment and sat in the hallway on the floor next to her, lightly touching her silently. Her sobs grew louder, from the moment she saw Harry and his concerned look, she knew she didn't deserve such a good friend. All her frustrations of the day spilled out of her, in front of him. Harry took her hand lightly and helped her get up. He led her inside not knowing what was to come.