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Chapter 18
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Giana Russo,

You and I both know that writing letters has never been my forte, I didn't even know how to write a letter before last week. I still don't if I'm being completely honest. But I know how much they mean to you and how you've always adored the idea of receiving one, so here's my letter to you, Russo.

I never meant to hurt you, and I know that isn't good enough, I don't think this letter will ever be enough, not after all the trouble and what I put your heart through. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I couldn't be the person I promised myself I'd be for you.

I've made a ton of mistakes and not being there for you was one.

I'm sorry for all the harsh things I said to you at beginning of this year, I'm sorry for giving you a hard time when all you did was try to help tutor me, I'm sorry for all things I did or didn't do, I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt how important you are to me, and most of all I'm sorry I was the reason for destroying us.

Before you, I never thought I could be so afraid to loose something in my life, nothing in my life has meant as much to me as you do. I can't live with the idea of you becoming a stranger to me, and I can't get it out of my head that you might never speak to me again, I can't live with the fact that you might walk past me and not care. We might've started off as two strangers in a classroom but I've never been so afraid that we'll end up as one too.

You can hate me for as much as you want, but I'm waiting, I'll wait as long as I have to if that means there's even a slight chance of having you in my life again.

You're a lot of things, Giana Russo, and being my absolute everything is one of them.

Yours always, Liam.

P.s. congratulations on graduating, you deserve it.

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Liam's POV

Please leave a message at the beep.

"Hey Giana, it's— uh— me— again—" I'm an idiot but I'm not going to say that aloud. "I was just hoping we can grab some coffee this week or if not, I can take you out to dinner some time soon." I blurt out, not really knowing what else to say since the last time I called today.

This is my twenty-sixth call.

The annoying little beep keeps cutting me off and I just don't know how much more I can tell her 'I love you' until she gets sick of me.

I feel like a love-struck teen except I was way cooler back then.

"I'd really like to see you again," I can't help but wince at my words, I think she gets that by now. "Alright, I'll talk to you soon." I have no game— which is odd since my whole life is a game, constantly on the field, and my mind always somewhere else.

Giana's POV 

Passionate as sin, ending so suddenly,
loving him is like trying to change your mind
Once you're already flying through the free fall

I hiss at the feeling of the needle piercing through my fair skin, this is like the tenth time in the row now.

A hot frustrated stream of air leaves my lips as I perfect the pins on the model in front of me, making the adjustments as needed.

Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword
And realizing there's no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out
That love could be that strong

Don't get me wrong, I have a deep soft spot in my heart for Taylor Swift and all of the meaningful lyrics that she writes, as lame as it sounds I was even a part of a fan club of hers back in middle school.

But, I can't help but hate that I relate to them on a personal level now that I'm older.

Especially when that means not being able to focus on my work correctly, usually I turn her music on to calm myself down, but right now, I feel like I'm about to poke me or the model if I don't concentrate hard enough.

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes
Tell myself it's time now gotta let go
But moving on from him is impossible
When I still see it all in my head
In burning red

Pinch.

I squeeze my eyes shut at my pulsating finger, screw it.

"Can we change the damn song?!" I shout in pure frustration, making the two other girls turn to look at me like I'm some freaking crazy fool— which I might possibly be.

"Sure, no problem, Gia." My one and only friend in this company, nods at me reassuringly, not really understanding the reason for my dramatic outburst. Out of this whole brand I've made for myself, I've only hired one person to work with me on the front line which is, Abigail. I don't usually mix my business with my personal life together, I don't need more people to find out that I'm part crazy when I'm not working.

Besides I need to focus.

I have to finish tweaking up this dress before the big gala tomorrow night.

The melody of 'Betty' starts playing and I feel my left eye twitch out of nerves.

"Change it!" I cry, feeling my eye twitch again.

Abi's eyes are as wide as saucers, continuing to click the skip button hurriedly. I think we're both worried at this point that I'll only worsen my rep with Daniella, her running out of here with a nightmare of a story to tell about me, especially after this crazy dress fitting to the press.

"You good?" Daniella hides a laugh to remain professional and I shrug my shoulders with a sarcastic head nod, aware that both of them know that I'm clearly two seconds away from a mental break down.

"I am perfect," I lie through a fake smile, only for her amusement to grow. "You look beautiful, I will make sure to have this ready in the morning for you, okay?" I say, jabbing in the last few pins, wanting this dress to be finished already. I've been working on it for over a month now, and that doesn't even include designing it! I don't think I ever want to see the color lilac again.

"Okay, ill just have my manga—"

"Sure thing!" I nod, patting her back supportively and ushering her to change out of it so my embarrassment could end.

Once Daniella is officially out of view and out of my boutique on fifth, a ginormous weight is lifted off my chest.

"Help me finish this before I absolutely lose my mind?" I chorused energetically, clapping my hands as I make my way behind the pile of dresses I have to work on this week alone.

Abigail shakes her head disapprovingly as she points to her watch strictly. "You have an interview with, Jason Peters in twenty minutes."

My mouth falls open as I take a look at the wall click, how could I forget?! I mean I hardly wanted to do this interview in the first place but it's great for publicity.

Jason Peters has one of the most famous talk shows in all of Manhattan, and I would've been a complete imbecile to turn down such an offer, but it's like I can't focus with everything on my plate.

Everyone in the fashion industry is going to be at this gala tomorrow— and I should go, but a part of me is dreading it since I hate socializing and I don't want to socialize.

Plus paparazzi— I hate the paparazzi.

I never grew up in the spotlight and being thrown into the mix of cameras flashing at your every moment is not something I'm too fond of. I try to avoid these sort of events whenever I have a chance.

Back in high school before my parents retired from fashion, the paparazzi seemed to like them, a lot actually, but they decided to call it quits before the entire world would know their name and privacy wouldn't be a thing anymore.

My rise to fame was pretty easy with my parents backing me up, I started posting my work on the internet and that was enough to get a first few buyers.

My parents helped buy me this shop when our living room floor started to look like a zoo, I now have this place and started selling more clothes than I ever thought I could.

I design everything and anything, but if I'm going to be honest creating dresses are my favorite, I tend to usually make outfits for celebrities for their upcoming events, and that is what really boosted my business.

"No offense, girl, but I think you should brush your hair it looks like you got electrocuted." She snorts a laugh, grabbing me by the shoulders and turning me around until I was face to face with my own reflection in the full length mirror that I have hung up in front of my store.

My hair is wild as every flyaway decides to go against me and point in every possible direction but the one desired way.

I let out a tired groan as my phone's all too familiar ringtone, starts blaring from my cardigan pocket and I feel my my chest tighten at just the thought of who it might be, not wanting to have to click the deny button again if it's from him.

"Are you going to answer that?" Abi hums, her hands still on my shoulders as I stare blankly ahead at myself.

"Yeah, duh, of course." I shrug casually, not daring to make a move as my phone continues to ring loudly in our ears.

She shakes her head in amusement and grabs my phone out of my pocket, clicking the answer button and holding it up to my ear but all I can hear is the pounding of my heartbeat coming through my ears.

I lamely stutter out. "H-Hello?"

My knuckles grip onto the phone, tugging it closer to my ear. "Hey, Giana. This is Jason's assistant, just calling to inform you that we're going to be moving your interview down to next week instead."

I let out a long breath of air that I didn't even know I was holding as I hear those words. "Yeah, of course that's not a problem. Can I ask why?"

My eyes roll themselves at my polite voice, not caring to do this interview whatsoever. "Jason, came down with a cold and is feeling under the weather, but we'll be in contact with you soon. Take care." She says shortly, not allowing me to respond before the line goes dead.

Well, I guess that clears up my afternoon to finish this dress once and for all.

(A/n- Chapter eighteen is officially out!

- What are your thoughts on this chapter?
- Should Giana go to the gala and what do you think will happen if she does?
- What did you think of Liam's letter?

Thank you all so much for reading. Please, please don't forget to comment, share, and click that little star button at the bottom of the screen. It means the absolute world to me when you guys do. Until next time!)