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As soon as Florentine found herself back on a busy schedule, she was able to go back to normal — or as normal as it could get. Christmas was around the corner and it meant that work would be far more exhausting, meaning she couldn't wallow in self-pity any longer, at least that's what she led herself to believe. Her therapist would most probably disagree, but there's a reason she rarely checked in with him anymore.
Florentine knew it would probably help her to, but whenever she met up with her therapist back in France and even over calls, she undoubtedly felt ashamed. What used to be three times a week, turned into once and all of a sudden the girl managed to reduce their talks to once every two weeks without much progress. Most of the time she'd lie and she knew it would come back to bite her in the ass someday. She was sick of herself, she couldn't admit it to herself that recovery took a long time and she didn't want to feel like a failure anymore.
The girl who lost her brother and became a nervous wreck and had to keep up her parent's legacy all on her own without even wanting to.
She busied herself in her work and talked to Carmen a lot, but one of her worries preceded all others. Brad hadn't messaged her back for two days. He didn't even open her messages and to say she was worried was an understatement.
The thought of driving to his apartment crossed her mind once or twice, but she decided against it then, the feeling of being a nuisance to him still lingering in the depths of her mind. Florentine couldn't think of a time since her move to England where they had gone without contact for this long and it made the Beaufort girl come up with theories as to why.
Did he have a family emergency? Was he angry at her for some reason? Was he simply busy in the studio? Was there a completely different reason Florentine couldn't know about?
Those questions haunted the girl throughout the whole morning and her following shift. She forgot a batch of croissants in the oven, she got a delivery order wrong, and she spilled her own coffee over her hand, hurting herself in the process, just because she was sick with worry.
Whatever it was, Florentine would believe he'd tell her about it so him disappearing on her for two days was something the girl couldn't understand.
Towards the end of her shift she even thought of messaging one of his bandmates. She knew them, talked to them here and there, but she wasn't sure they'd be able to tell her any more.
It all led to Florentine going against her own beliefs and driving all the way over to Bradley's place. It was one of those times that Florentine was glad Bradley had a passcode lock and not a regular key lock, because she was able to put in the 4-digit-code without a second thought.
Despite the need for tighter security measures, Bradley used the same four number code for his phone, his MacBook and quite surprisingly — even the lock of his door. Florentine wouldn't be surprised if he used it for everything else as well.
