DELICATE,
FIVE, COULD DO BETTER

" THIS ONES A CONTENDER!" Inez tells me as I walk out of the dressing room of Selfridges. Having convinced me that mine and Gus' so called date will be public news considering they've been posting about us since we were sixteen — the couple destined to be I've heard us be referenced before, it made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

I hate how spectated my life is. How many photos of me exist of days that I don't even remember— my biological mother, photoshoots of her and me ( well the bump) and then it went slightly silent until she eventually left and then me and my dad mostly at the football club, press shoots.

The most are with Rebecca as suspected. Photographer shots of us walking down the street, coffees in cafes in Paris. It's like a sixth sense now — knowing that what I do is most likely going to be on a front page or a instagram post soon enough, even the drive here was documented. It is unescapable, especially due to the current climate of mum and Rupert's divorce.

I turn in the knee length denim dress that I think looks quite sweet, paired with white gogo boots could be exceptional. This is the fifth outfit I've put on, I like shopping but not under pressure like I feel I currently am.

Harriet nods " I like it, I'd put it in the top five." I tilt my head " Haz, we've only seen five outfits."

she hums " and I loved them all." she tells me as I roll my eyes and turn to Inez who I know who will give a truthful answer,  no matter how harsh.

The raven haired girl nods " he'll be on his knees." she tells me with a unflinching confidence as I too roll my eyes at her.

" a bit dramatic, but I'm taking that means I look nice." I say, as I turn and face the mirror — sliding my freshly manicured fingers down the material as I exhale.

I look at the inverted reflection of the people waking by. And that's when I notice it, when I notice him — my eyes widen and the feeling of shrinking begins to dawn on me. He looks happy, too fucking happy for someone as shitty as him.

His arm around the waist of a twenty something year old probably not even five years older than me, carrying multiple bags as I stand with my fists now balling each side. I haven't seen him since the divorce, my dad that being.

I fled, I knew I'd be dragged into it — I knew he'd try to win me over, and I'm so small compared to him — so much fear fills me when I'm near him, that I feel so insignificant. Probably because he's the first person to have broken my heart and any reminder of him just breaks it a little bit more.

So I went, drowned myself in work as long as it wasn't on the same island as him — if he caught a flight to Italy I'd be off to France that afternoon.

I spent too many years of my childhood carefully glueing the pieces of my heart back together for him just to smash it again.

" holls?" Harriet and Inez stand up simultaneously but my eyes are going blurry and my stomach is churning. I blink and look at my friends as I pick at the denim material which now feels like it's suffocating me.

" I need to go and get change." I tell them, my breath heavy and words rushed. Turning back into the dressing room and clutching my fingers around the material as I pull the curtains shut.

My head bows and I feel sick, the suffocating feeling becoming more prominent and all the more reason for my fingers to begin clawing at the back of the dress for a zip. My head moves up to face the light as I groan to get the dress off of me.

" fuck." I whisper, growing more agitated " fuck!" I exclaim louder this time and I can hear Inez and Harriet's voices from behind the curtain that divides us but I'm not listening.

There's muffled noise, they're talking to me or at least trying to ( I'm not exactly in the most chatty mood at the moment).

The curtain momentarily parts, only enough for inez to slide in and take my attention — she can see the panic in my eyes as she moves her hands to my cheeks.

" holls, look at me and breathe." her tone is quiet, reassuring, my hands move off of the dress and onto her hands. I listen, taking note of my inhaling and exhaling as I close my eyes because I can feel the tears coming.

" you're ok," she says and I nod, I know I'm ok.

" I hate him, I really really hate him." I mumble in the middle of a breath as she nods and smiles gently at me.

" I know," she murmurs as I reclaim my surroundings and look at her with something in my expression that lets her know I'm ok.

I stand up straight again and turn around " can you help me with the zip?" I ask — now certain I will not be buying this dress ( fuck my dad for ruining this, despite if he's aware of it or not)

WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT. the three of us exit that store as soon as I pay for the second favourite thing I tried on, Inez holds my hand a little tighter than she normally does and Harriet panders because she hates when I panic — yes this isn't the first occurrence.

They started in boarding school — maybe year eight? but he came up for a parents weekend ( he only came up because mum did ) , made a joke and slung his arm around my shoulder. I excused myself and Harriet found me balling my eyes out in the girls changing room of the PE department half an hour later.

I think I thought it was just anger that due to my poor expressive skills turned to tears and sadness. This is before I came to the conclusion that being close to my dad was like being in forced proximity to the first person who  broke your heart — you want to feel fine, feel like you've moved on but then you end up feeling this clenching feeling in your chest and in my case crying in a empty changing room.

I tell them I'm going to and see my mum, aka my own personal safety net. They nod, ask if I want them want to come with — despite the urge to keep them here to guard myself a little bit more I shake my head and then they head somewhere else and I get into a car and take a quick half hour nap before arriving the club.

Now I sit on my mums sofa in the office, munching a half eaten short bread biscuit that tastes like a little piece of heaven — I like Ted Lasso and his ' biscuits with the boss' concept ( as long as that gesture stretches as far as the boss' daughter as well) .

She's not here, so I'm forced to watch the training going on outside. My arms folded as I aimlessly watch a group of men kick a ball around — my eyes catch Jamie in particular as much as I hate it to say it, he's a good player.

He's seamless with the way he dodges other players, he makes it look as easy as clockwork. I try to pull my eyes away from him, but I feel like I can't and on the occasion I focus on another player I find myself just focusing on him in the peripheral vision. If only he wasn't such a prick off pitch and I'd have no problem watching him as he played, telling me I thought he was a good player knowing the compliment wouldn't go straight to his ego.

I move myself off of the sofa, opening the window and leaning against the edge — arms folded as I continued to watch.

One by one they notice me, it's like a domino effect — nudging one another's shoulders and turning to see if it was true. It's all silent until it reaches number nine — who turns and when he finally notices me cups his hands over his mouth and I instantly regret my decision.

" enjoying the view up there!" he calls up, I roll my eyes and feel the ambition to swipe that smug smile even from this distance I just know is on his lips.

" oh yeah!" I nod, raising my voice to match his pitch " boys you're looking amazing out there."

And I swear I can hear his scoff from the pitch "and what about me ?" of course he asks about him, I shrug and exhale.

" could do better." I conclude, " let's sort that out by Sunday."

Not giving him chance to rebuttal as I close the window again. Amusing myself for the moment as I turn, noticing the heel taps that have been engraved in my mind since child hood.

" holls, i didn't realise you were here." she says, i look to the smaller man beside her who politely smiles at me.

" Higgins, this is my daughter Hollie." He steps forward with his hand out " Holls, this is Higgins."

I take the hand he offers and shake it gently — exchanging pleasantries ( because we're English) as I meet my mums gaze.

" what can I help you with?"

My mouth opens ' I saw him today,' lingers in my mouth, the truth, what I need to tell my mum. ' I felt that tightening feeling in my chest again' I could just say it, get it out there — what's burdening me, what's growing in weight with each second longer it sits on my shoulders.

But I don't, instead a I force a smile on my face as I exhale,

" I have a date with Gus tonight and I need some advice." Is what comes out instead, betraying myself once again.

She smiles and I feel fine with my burdens pushing down on me if it means I don't have to push them on her.

That's normal right ?

AUTHORS NOTE.
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( silent readers I'm looking at you rn)