Harry wrapped his arm around Olivia’s waist while staring at the cameras with a serious face, occasionally flashing a small smile to better fake his desire to be there in that moment.

London Fashion Week is one of those fashion events Harry enjoys attending whenever his schedule allows—or rather, whenever he allows it. After finishing his tour a year ago and taking a few months off, he had decided to attend LFW 2024 alongside his girlfriend of almost three years, Olivia Wilde. He was always grateful for Anna Wintour’s invitations to these events—especially when he could enjoy them close to home and with someone who, supposedly, meant a lot to him.

But this year? This year was the worst of all.

She was there. His ex. From afar, he could see her. It had been years since they broke up and yeah, maybe it hadn’t ended on the best terms—in fact, even to this day they still couldn’t really stand each other. From once sharing a love that Harry swore would last forever, now they couldn’t even look at each other—not even in pictures. Because of that, both had agreed to keep as far away from each other as possible and keep the peace, relatively speaking. It had been about four years since they last saw each other, and honestly, Harry was doing much better that way. He even had Olivia now. But today—of all damn days—there she was, standing there posing for another group of paparazzi, and she looked so fucking… hot.

God, how he hated her… He hated the fact that she looked so gorgeous and relaxed, as if it didn’t even matter that they were breathing the same air. As if she truly didn’t care that Harry was standing right there with another woman (who, let’s be real, didn’t like her either) clinging to him like gum just to keep him from looking at her. He hated that she was laughing, smiling, looking like she was living her best life—even though their relationship ended so badly they couldn’t stand to be in the same room anymore…

He hated that all his attention was on her and not on his girlfriend.

He was fucked.