#studio 60

Matt was her cover. He didn’t know, but she would take him as her date so everyone, especially the paparazzi, wouldn’t nag her about it. You were tired of hiding, she knew you were, too. It felt like she shoved you back into the closet and you were suffocating in there.

You somehow thought it would be different this time. If she were to arrive with Matt, she would have to kiss him. Something about Matt being her ball drop kiss didn’t sit right with you. She was yours. Your girlfriend. You were hers. Kissing him at midnight would just set in a promise that this would be their year together.

“You know I have to bring Matt.” She looked at you through the mirror, and to relax you before you would get upset, she kissed your hand that lightly rested over her chest. You pulled away and moved back.

“Whatever, Harriet,” you said. You got a sense you’ve been betrayed. You began putting your coat on, every move you took being aggressive. You weren’t an aggressive person but Harriet surely set you off.

Harriet turned around in her chair, she stared at you, puzzled. You were grabbing your bag, leaving, leaving her. “Y/n, what is your problem. You know this is how it is.”

You were heading toward the door, but that, that halted you. You turned back around and Harriet swore that she could see flames in your eyes. You were angry, and you had every right to be, she knew that. Harriet wouldn’t even allow you to tell your closest friends about the relationship. Now, it’s been way too long to keep hiding. That exhilarating feeling of sneaking kisses behind peoples back doesn’t feel so good anymore.

“It’s not how it is. It shouldn’t be. It’s how you make it because you’re more concerned of how people view you rather than your own girlfriends feelings.” At this point, you were yelling. You were furious. Harriet walked closer to you and hushed you. She didn’t want any wandering ears to hear. It made it that much worse; she was locking the closet even tighter even in your worst moments.

“That’s just not true,” she whispered-yelled. “You just don’t understand, if I tell people, then I could lose my family, my fans. I’m known as a Christian girl. I always have been.”

“Because your fans are more important than me. You’re nothing without them, right?”

“I’m nothing without you!” The blonde argued, throwing her hands around to pursue her point.

“If you’re nothing without me then everyone would know. They would think of the Harriet and Y/n couple when they see your face.”

“Why do you think that’s a good thing? They would think about it because it would drive them angry and disgusted. You know how it is, you know the how the people that follow me are!”

The room fell silent, feeling uneasily eerie after Harriet raised her voice, herself. Your eyes filled with tears, the glassy look shimmering, still, in the dim lighting. She wanted to reach out to you, to take everything back with a simple kiss like she always did. You could tell as a wave of emotions and confusion crashed over her face.

“Fuck you, Harriet,” was all you could muster. And like that, you were gone, leaving Harriet alone to bathe in her awful words. If her wish was to spend New Years with Matt, then you granted it for her.

-

“Come on, what has got you so down today? It’s New Year’s eve!” Your friend, Jordan, asked. She was nearly tipsy but she was still always there for you. You couldn’t say the same for Harriet.

You could tell yourself that you didn’t want to see her again, but you were still looking through the crowd for a certain smile. Looking to see a confused women dancing with a man that didn’t treat her right. That didn’t know what you two do when he’s not around. It was wrong, but it felt so good.

“I guess i’m just tired. It was a crazy show yesterday, you know.” You shrugged it off, but Harriet still clung to your shoulder. Nevertheless, you kept up with the lie. More than half of yourself could still see a terrified Harriet when the topic was brought up. You didn’t want to destroy her like she did to you.

“Well this should cheer you right up!” Jordan passed you a shot, you downed it with her. But, still, the awful feeling didn’t wash down. It nagged deep in your heart.

-

Minutes until the new year approached and the feeling in your heart hurt so bad that you could’ve mistaken it for a heart attack. I want Harriet. She’s should be here with me. You watched the fireworks on the balcony. You needed to get away from the party. You knew Harriet was staring at the same sky with Matt; it made you feel sick.

However, Harriet’s heart thudded in her chest as she ran up a ton of stairs. She cursed you both for being a celebrity for once in her life. Why does being famous make you feel the need to have so many stairs?

By the sound of it upstairs, as Harriet got closer, the party was roaring. She could hear a countdown, they were at sixty so she didn’t have much time.

By the time she reached the top level, she was breathing hard. It was absolutely crowded and she was sure that she wasn’t going to find you in time. She stood and quickly gazed throughout the whole dim room. Alas, she saw the balcony door open. After the nights she spent here, she found that it was one of your favorite spots. You loved to kiss her all over under the moonlight.

She rushed over, pushing through the obnoxiously drunk people. It smelled of sparkling wine. She hoped you weren’t too drunk on it. She wouldn’t blame you though, after what she put you through.

She tapped you on the shoulder and your eyes widened in shock. “You still came,” was all you said, because the air was somehow getting tighter out here.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” she let out a deep breath that she had been holding in, “i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you put your hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t okay, but she was simply afraid. You couldn’t hate her for her emotions. “I’m just glad you’re here. I…I love you,” you whispered the words of a promise. If you could only have her in secret, then so be it. You need her.

“No, y/n, don’t whisper it,” she said, sternly, but she was smiling brightly. “I love you!” Her voice was louder, drawing in a few looks from the house, but they all quickly looked away again. They didn’t care. It wasn’t important to them. It was important to the both of you. At the end of the day, nobody truly cared about anyone’s life but themselves and the ones they love.

“8, 7, 6,”

“Happy New Years, Harry.”

“5, 4, 3,”

“Happy New Years, my love.”

“2, 1!”

Harriet kissed you. In front of all of those people. She showed you she didn’t care about them, she cared about you. This was the year that Harriet would tell everyone to kiss whoever the fuck they want, and she was going to show them how, too.

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