"Wednesday?" Sade asked, sounding both shocked and concerned at the late-night call. "Is everything okay?"

"N-no," Wednesday stuttered out, desperately trying to gain air between sobs. "I...I can't breathe."

She could hear Sade shifting down the receiver, before she spoke again.

"Are you having a panic attack Wednesday?" she asked, in a soothing but firm tone.

"I—I think so, y-yes," Wednesday replied, hating that her own body could betray her in this way. "I can't breathe, a-and I f-feel like I'm going t-to pass out."

"Okay, Wednesday, listen to me. I want you to count backwards from ten with me, okay? So when I count, you count with me. Can you do that?"

Wednesday tried to follow her words, nodding to the dark room as tears crashed down her cheeks. "I th-think so."

"Okay. Remember to count with me. Ten, nine, eight..."

Wednesday talked along, keeping her eyes wired shut as she tried to focus all of her energy on Sade's words.

"Seven, s-six, five, four..."

"Three, two, one. And again, Wednesday, you're doing great. Ten, nine..."

"Eight, seven, six, f-five, four, three..."

"Two, one. You're going to get through this, I promise. And again."

Wednesday didn't know how long they repeated those same numbers, over and over again, until her body began to come down from the panic. Levelled out into something more regular.

Eventually, her breathes slowed back down and the tears dried up. Now that the storm has passed through her body, she felt obliterated, exhausted. Hollow.

A moment of silence passed as her body fully settled back into normality. No longer could she only see and hear sheer panic. A semblance of rationality finding its way back to her mind.

"Sorry," she muttered guiltily down the phone minutes later, the realisation of what had just happened hitting her . "For bothering you. I just...I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Wednesday, don't ever apologise for asking someone for help. That was what I gave you this out of hours number for," Sade replied honestly.

There was something weird about talking to her therapist over the phone, and at night-time no less. She was so used to only seeing her and discussing her problems in one place at one time, that there was something unsettling about it all. Sort of similar to seeing a teacher outside of school. Like it reminds you they're a human being with their own lives and not just a figure you talk to for an hour once a week.

"Okay," she replied, fighting back the urge to apologise for apologising.

A pause lingered between them. Wednesday wasn't sure what to say. If she should say anything further. She already dumped so much onto Sade in their weekly sessions, it felt borderline cruel to unleash all of the new developments onto her now. Especially when she wasn't getting paid to listen to it.

"I don't want to assume anything that may be false, but...can I hazard a guess that your distress has something to do with the stories that I've seen floating about today?" Sade asked gently a minute later.

Of course her therapist had seen the stories. Of course. She didn't know why she'd expected any different. After all, her life was now an open book splashed across every tabloid and gossip account in the country. She sighed, biting her inner cheek.

"So, you've seen them I'm guessing?" Wednesday asked glumly.

"It was hard to miss," Sade replied. "I'm sorry this has happened to you Wednesday. I can imagine it must feel very overwhelming."

"That's definitely one way of describing it," she said, breathing out a laugh that was completely humourless.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Wednesday cleared her throat, looking back out to the crescent moon with a sad gaze.

"It's fine, I don't want to waste your personal time. Plus, this isn't one of our paid sessions, so," she shrugged, ready to thank her and end the call.

"Well, it's a good thing you've caught me in a moment of doing absolutely nothing then. And also, believe it or not, I actually do this job because I like it. Not for the money. So, now that we've got those obstacles out of the way, feel free to talk to me about what led to you calling me in the first place. I'm listening."

From the moment she'd met Sade, she'd observed that she'd never felt like one of those therapists in the movies. Cold and distanced. Talking to her felt so easy. Like she could coax the deepest, darkest secrets from her with the right questions. And often, it was like she knew what Wednesday was thinking without even needing to ask her. All from a look or her tone of voice.

But the one thing she'd always made sure of was to never make her feel like she was a burden. Like opening up and sharing her issues was something that troubled her. Even now, out of hours. She was willing to sit and listen to her for no reason other than to make her feel better. To make sure she was okay.

It was a nice feeling.

"Okay," Wednesday said cautiously, wondering where to even start. "Well, I'm assuming you now know that the best friend I talk about in my sessions is Harry...the Harry Styles."

"Yes, I'd guessed as much," Sade replied.

"And I told you that we started seeing each other and you know...being more than friends."

"Mhm."

"Well, it was going good. Really good actually. We, uh, we had the talk. The one you suggested."

"How did that go?" Sade asked, calmly intrigued.

Wednesday thought back to that conversation on the bus, a sweet moment of sincere honesty between her and Harry. He'd said he didn't want to see anyone else and it had made her so happy, she couldn't have anticipated the fall that was coming soon after.

"Really well, actually. We both said we didn't want to see other people and agreed that we were both in it for the long haul."

"That sounds like good progress. I'm proud of you. But anyway, carry on."

Pulling her thoughts back to the present, she thought over the past twenty-four hours that in reality had felt like a year.

"Well, we were at a place that was just really happy. And I went out to visit him on tour for the Amsterdam show, because it's somewhere sort of special for us. And well, basically, we got drunk and reckless and kissed in a public place and I...I guess someone was there taking photos of us. Then this morning, we woke up to the absolute chaos on the internet about us and I started freaking out. So, I did the typical Wednesday thing and ran."

She sighed down the phone, guilty at how she handled it. How she left Harry in the lurch whilst she escaped. Another selfish move from her selfish self.

"What made you feel like you needed to escape?" Sade pressed.

Somehow, she had a feeling Sade already knew the answer. Because it was the same thing they'd spent the past few months analysing and dissecting in sessions. She just wanted to hear it confirmed by Wednesday herself.

"All of it," Wednesday mumbled, using her ring finger to pick at the side of her thumb. "I saw the headlines and my face splashed everywhere and the comments and...and I panicked. I couldn't—I can't face it."

"Can't face what?"

Wednesday didn't want to cry again. She tried hard to swallow back the lump that had formed as she spoke with a gravelly voice.

"Can't face the scrutiny. Can't face being told that I don't deserve him. Can't...can't face being told I'm as worthless as I already feel."

It sounded so pathetic that as she finished speaking, she wondered what the point of all of this was. Therapy. Because it seemed like in the months she'd been attending and trying to work on herself, she'd not really changed. She'd just been pretending. When it came down to it, she was still the same person with the same beliefs and fears and tendencies that she was when she started.

Maybe she was just too broken for Sade to fix.

"Do you remember what I said to you, in our first session together?" Sade asked.

Wednesday screwed her eyebrows together, trying to remember that first heavy and exhausting session all of those months ago.

"I—I can't really remember," she said.

"I told you that your core beliefs are not a fact. That they are parts of us that are formed by trauma, warping our perceptions of ourselves and the world around us. What you think about yourself—that you're worthless, less than others—is not the truth."

"If...if it's not the truth...then why is half of the internet currently saying that to me?" Wednesday asked desperately.

"Wednesday, the internet can be a cruel place that allows people to say whatever they want under the guise of anonymity. When there isn't the threat of consequences, people can become vicious, nasty. But it can also be a place of positivity and reassurance. When you were looking at the comments, did you read all of them? Or did you seek out the ones that were specifically negative?"

She blinked as her eyebrows drew together, picturing all of the tweets she'd scrolled through, landing specifically on the ones that were nasty or hateful.

"I—well, of course I was more focused on the bad comments," Wednesday said. "It was hard not to."

"Do you want to know what I noticed this morning when I checked social media and saw the photos? I noticed an overwhelming amount of support for both you and Harry." She paused, letting the point sink in. "If you look only for the negative, that is all you are going to find."

A moment of silence passed between them as Wednesday considered this. It was hard to really believe what Sade was saying whilst her chest ached, and her eyes were scratchy with dryness the tears had left. It felt like everything that happened before the conversation she was having with Sade, especially in the past 12 hours, was one big undistinguishable blur coated in a haze of anguish. If the day had been a colour, it would have been blue. Sinking, consuming blue.

"There were positive comments?" Wednesday asked, trying to strain her mind to remember them.

She was sure she hadn't seen them. Or maybe Sade was right. She'd been so focused on the negative, she'd ignored the positive altogether. Either way, her mind failed to recall seeing any.

"Yes. And a lot of them, too."

Wednesday sighed, chewing on her lip. She shrugged in the darkness, looking out at the quiet street. "It still doesn't change the fact that there were negative comments though."

Sade spoke softly. "Social media is a lot like normal life. Sure, it's a lot harder to ignore those bad comments online. But you can't go through life without negativity. People are always going to have opinions and something to say. I'm sure you've met a person you've disliked before and thought something negative about them, yes?"

"I mean yeah, of course I have," she replied hesitantly.

"Well then you are aware that negative opinions are something every human experiences. Some will say them out loud, some will keep it to themselves. But opinions are subjective, they change from person to person. My favourite saying is extremely tacky, but also extremely good at summarising negativity. 'You could be the ripest, sweetest, juiciest peach in the world. But there will always be someone who doesn't like peaches'. At some point, it's worth realising that you can't please everyone Wednesday."

She'd heard that saying before, probably on one of those tacky Instagram accounts that also had 'live, laugh, love' quotes in the bio and pictures of women doing yoga on the feed. But somehow, when Sade said it, it didn't seem tacky at all. In fact, it made the concept far more digestible and easier to understand.

Sade had a magic way of spinning the most complicated aspects of her mind into something easy to conceptualise and look at through a clearer lens. She almost wished she could pay her a bigger wage to be her 24/7 on call therapist, there at the drop of a hat should she need general life advice to make everything seem less hectic. Less of a catastrophe.

"The thing is that I know that. It's getting my brain to come round to that discovery too and not be triggered by every bit of negativity that comes my way," she said dejectedly.

"Well, it's good that that's what I'm here to help with then, isn't it?" Sade replied and Wednesday could hear her smile through the phone.

Smiling for maybe the first time that day, she released a breath. "Sorry to keep putting all of this on you."

"I just told you, stop apologising for opening up. And also, I'm your therapist. As long as you're under my care, I'll keep doing my best to help you."

"Okay," Wednesday said shakily, clearing her sore throat. "Thanks Sade. I—I think I'm going to go and try to get some sleep. Today has felt like the longest day of my life."

"Yes, try to get some rest. And I know it's tempting, but I'd advise staying away from social media at the moment, at least for a couple of days. Whilst you're feeling this way," she said.

For once, she felt like her and Sade were thinking the exact same thing. Nothing sounded worse in that moment than checking her socials.

"I think that's a pretty good idea," Wednesday agreed.

"Okay, well I'll let you get away. I'll see you next week for our next session Wednesday. Take it easy and be kind to yourself."

Wednesday paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. Something about the complete darkness and isolation of the room had left her feeling more alone than she had in months. But Sade's words had been the small beacon of light in an otherwise bleak moment. A hand pulling her from the depths.

"I'll try. Bye Sade."

With that, it was back to being alone.

The air felt stale somehow, like the house had been unlived in for a while. Which of course, it had. She'd been back and forth with Harry on tour so much that it hadn't been lived in at all, apart from the odd day or night sleeping over and then setting off again.

Her stomach grumbled, that horrible searing pain of acid against her empty stomach lining. She knew from prior experience at the start of the year that starving herself didn't help matters in any which way. It just made her more miserable, more lacking of energy. So, despite her tired eyes, she dragged herself to the kitchen. Though the fridge was bare apart from a rogue can of tuna and some butter, she did find a whole pack of Doritos in the cupboard.

She traipsed upstairs with the bag in one hand and the device that had been the cause of all her pain that day in the other. After forcing herself to take a quick shower, knowing that she'd only feel worse if she didn't, she changed into fresh pyjamas and settled into bed. Opening the packet, she sat upright in bed with one hand in the bag, the other slowly replying to the stream of concerned messages from her friends.

Wednesday kept the messages simple. Assuring them she was okay and would be taking some time away from her phone. Not a complete lie, but a good enough excuse so that at least for the next few days she wouldn't feel guilty not responding to messages.

By the time she'd replied to everyone and her conscience had felt somewhat cleared, the bag was empty and she pushed it away as she slid further into the bed. Unlocking her phone, she stared at her messages list.

There was one name she wanted to send a message to more than anyone else. The person she didn't want to hurt. But inevitably, she had. With her frenzied escape and lack of contact, she knew Harry would have spent the whole day worrying. Hurting. And somehow, it was the shame of that knowledge that made her lock her phone and place it onto the nightstand.

She settled her head down onto the cold pillow, realising how big the bed felt with just her. Last year, she'd welcomed the emptiness of her bed once her and Patrick had ended. Now, it just felt unnatural. Like it was designed for two bodies to be tangled together.

Wednesday laid there for a while, trying to get over to sleep. But the anxiety of the day kept her wide awake, eyes staring up at the ceiling as her body refused to calm. It felt like a part of her was missing. Something, or someone. Turning over, she felt around the bedside table in the dark, unable to see what she was looking for.

But once she felt the soft fur, she gently grasped it and brought it under the cover, hugging it to her chest. Her panda teddy. The one Harry had bought her. If she couldn't have him, she'd have a piece of him.

And it worked. The moment she felt Harry's comfort radiating through the bear, drowsiness overcame her. Until finally, after what felt like hours of unrest, she got her first moment of peace that day.

/

regarding everyone's reaction to the last chapter, I know I'm sometimes cruel but I'm not THAT cruel to reintroduce Patrick to the story!!

or am I....xoxo gossip girl