It's times like these that I really start to miss my old job. I know it's annoying to be irritated that I have to do work the whole time that I'm scheduled. The pay is a bit better, but I really liked all the downtime from before. I took it for granted, although it was my own actions that lead to me losing that luxury.

I can feel a headache coming on, so I slip into the bathroom to take some Advil when I finally get a second of downtime. I'm not sure if it's from a lack of sleep, stress from school, or not being able to see Bawdy as much. Probably a combination of all of the above. All I know is I've been anxious and feeling like shit this week.

While I'm not supposed to be on my phone at work, they're not going to know if I'm using it in the bathroom. I check the time and give myself a 10 minute limit to pull myself together. For all they know I'm taking a shit in here.

I know that Bawdy is at a work event tonight, so I doubt he'll be able to talk with me. He hasn't replied to my message yet from before work. There's really no reason to bother him.

He would respond if it was an emergency. He's proven that before, but I can't just text him SOS I'm dying from being deprived of you.

My next best bet is to go on social media and scour for pictures of him. Paparazzi work fast to be the first to cover pictures of celebrities at events, so I'm not surprised to find him tagged already in multiple posts. And obsessed fans work even faster.

He looks so good. Too good.

I wish that no one else besides me could look at him.

My stomach churns at the site of him pictured with another girl. I recognize her as another singer. Bawdy had mentioned that they were at least friends, so she's not some random person who he had to attend with. They definitely just had to pose for pictures, but I wish he had his arm around my waist instead of hers. I do feel a bit of relief, since I can tell that he's obviously hovering his hand a bit and not holding on to her like he would with me.

He really took the whole how he takes pictures with girls to heart, and I appreciate him endlessly for that.

I draw my attention away from staring at him. At that point I had zoomed in on just him. I don't need to be looking at some other girl if I don't need to.

And my 10 minutes are up. Twelve actually. It was a long shit, okay?

I make my way back out and paste a smile on my face for my next client. An 8-year-old boy in his baseball uniform. I quickly grab my camera from next to my computer where I was editing the previous client's photos. The shoot is like most of the others that I've been doing, so I'm just working with muscle memory at this point.

Just to make sure the lighting is good, I go to flip through some of the photos that I started to take of the boy. I knit my eyebrows in confusion, because none of the pictures are showing up.

Then my gaze goes to the text on the screen telling me there is no memory card. Shit, I didn't put it back in. I quickly excuse myself and grab the card.

I don't want to sound like an absolute fool, so I just say that the lighting wasn't looking the best. The lighting is actually perfect, so I pretend to move around some lights and only end up moving them a millimeter or two. The mother looks a bit annoyed when I start asking her son to redo poses that he has already done.

It sounds like the boy didn't even want to be there to begin with. At least Ronnie is away at the front desk right now, so he didn't see me being incompetent.

Work wraps up finally, but Ronnie stops me before I head out.

"Gianna, one moment please," he says.

Goddammit. I just want to go home.

"Yeah, what's up?" I say in a fake cheerful voice.

"Just wanted to mention that one of the clients early wasn't too happy with your performance at the beginning. The baseball boy. I assured her that the pictures would come out great, but she asked if you were new since you seemed a bit frazzled."

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure that everything was perfect," I reply keeping it vague.

"She said that you stepped away into the editing room for a few minutes. Was everything not ready before she got there?"

Maybe this lady should have taken the photos herself if she is going to provide so much commentary on the subject.

I keep myself composed and just tell him that I forgot the memory card. I'm sure it has happened before to people. He is just a bit curious as to why it took me more than a minute to realize that it wan't in the camera.

Probably because my mind was on Bawdy, but I definitely can't tell him that. I just shrug and apologize, promising that it won't happen again and that I'll always double check before. There, I made it a learning moment for myself.

That seemed to satisfy him. I know that he owns this small business himself, so he definitely wants it to be successful and to not get any bad reviews.

Making such a small mistake shouldn't make me this worried that I'm going to get fired, but it does. I think it's being coupled with the worries that I already have, and it's not making me feel any better.

I drag my feet to my apartment door, which I almost walk past since I'm confused by the huge flower arrangement sitting there. I almost thought that I got out on the wrong floor, but this is definitely my apartment. Quickly investigating the flowers, I find a note.

"My days aren't the same without you. I hope this brings some life into your day, baby girl. Miss you- B."

No boy has even bought me flowers before. I guess I never went for the romantics or just anyone with an ounce of class if I'm being honest. I don't need these things to be happy, but it is certainly helps right now.

I unlock the door and bring the flowers inside. Kennedy isn't home yet, so I just take a moment to smell the flowers and to look through the arrangement. I'm not sure if it's on purpose, but there are no roses.

My smile stays on my face as I eat dinner and take a shower. Once I'm in bed sitting on my laptop, Bawdy finally replies, and I thank him for the flowers.

Bawdy: Anything for you, baby girl. If I can't be with you, I at least want you to know that I'm thinking about you. That I can't get you out of my mind. I wish you were with me tonight.

Bawdy: I'm heading home. I'll call you when I get there.

I look at the time. 11:30pm is pretty early in Bawdy world to be heading home. I've never heard of one of his events that end early not having an after party. Honestly, the event could end at 2:00am, and there could still be afters.

While waiting for him, I try to fix my half-dried hair to look somewhat presentable in case he video calls me. Then I grab a bag of chips and snack on them in bed while waiting for him to call. I'm honestly not sure exactly where the event was or how long it will take him.

A little after midnight, he starts to call me. I jump to answer it on the first ring but stop myself. I don't need to seem that needy and desperate. After waiting three more seconds, convincing myself that it's really going to make a meaningful difference, I answer his Facetime.

"Hey, you look cute," he says while shutting walking out of his elevator into his apartment. Only he could think that I look good right now. I love the way that he compliments me even when I'm not all dressed up. It really helps me to know that he likes me for me and not just for when my tits are looking hot.

We've been Facetiming the last two nights and have unofficially planned to each day until we're back to hanging out regularly again, although I'm not sure when exactly that will be. I'm not sure how I even survived not seeing his almost every day before. Then I remind myself that I barely survived.

I thought that I was mainly distressed about being mad at him, but I now think that I was basically feeling withdrawals from him. Is it even possible to feel withdrawals from a person?

The paparazzi have been camped outside of his apartment since after the picture leaked, so he (or probably more so his publicist) doesn't want me going over to his place until all of this calms down. Some of the psychotic paparazzi seem to be following him at all times, so he thinks that they would even follow him to my place if he tried to come over, and he doesn't want more learning where I live.

We could try sneaking around, but his publicist is worried that it would make things look even worse. As if Bawdy doesn't want people to know that he's just with one girl and is only sneaking around with one girl. Which is exactly what would be happening and is exactly what she does not want to happen.

We catch each other up about our nights. My story of forgetting the memory card is nothing compared to him at some fancy event, but he acts like it's the most important story that he has ever heard. He never makes me feel like I'm any less than him.

"No afters tonight?" I ask once he recaps his night.

"There were, but I just wasn't in the mood. I swear some of my friends almost had a stroke when I told them that I was heading home. I really never skip shit," he says.

"You didn't feel like going?" I ask, curious in his change of behavior.

"Honestly, if you weren't going to be there, I wasn't in the mood. I didn't really feel up for it."

I smile softly. "Well, don't let me be the reason that you aren't having fun."

"I'd much rather talk with you than go to some party."

Coming from someone who lives to party and parties to live, that's definitely a strong statement. He's making me feel a lot more special than I sometimes think that I deserve.