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Britney's POV
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"Aren't you hungry?" I looked at her. She was hunched over her plate, staring at the food but not moving towards it. Like it was poisoned or something.
She threw me an angry look. "No. I ate an hour ago."
I frowned. I knew she was lying. She hadn't eaten in days, and she expected me to believe that she ate recently.
I sighed, hoping she would come to her senses, and took a sip of my drink. I watched her from the corner of my eye, but all she did was stare at her food with a disgusted look. Like it was contagious and if she touched it she would get diseased.
"How can you eat that? It's disgusting." Christina still wasn't looking at me, she was still looking at her plate. But I knew she saw me from the corner of her eye.
"It's not disgusting." I looked up at her, staring at her. She felt my eyes on her and looked up at me, staring into my eyes intensely. Thinking I would lose eye contact with her. But I didn't, I kept my eyes on hers until she gave up, and looked at her glass of water which was sitting on the table untouched.
"How's the new album coming along?" I asked her. Trying to change the subject. To anything. It hurt me to think of her problems. And she had many. I could tell. She would never tell me though.
She smiled and perked up in her chair, obviously forgetting about the food. "It's great. Almost done."
"I know it's gonna be great." I looked up at her and smiled back. Then I watched her, without knowledge, take a cookie that was sitting there beside her plate and started chewing on it. She chewed fast, and quickly grabbed another one, running it down her throat in a few seconds.
She was really hungry.
I bit my lip to hide my smile. It made my day watching her do that. I was so worried about her and her problems. This was one, and I knew she had so many others that I didn't know about. She didn't even know I knew about any.
"I knew you were hungry." I grinned at her, as she took in what I said and spit out the remains of the cookie out of her mouth. Sickly, she groaned and looked at me.
"I need to go to the bathroom." She ran away from the table and ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. A minute later I could hear vomiting noises from the bathroom.
I couldn't even eat when she was gone. I couldn't get my mind off of her and how sick she was. The vomiting noises stopped and she stayed there for a few more minutes, and I wondered what she was doing. Was she trying to kill herself?
I got up and knocked on the bathroom door loudly. "Chrissy?!" She didn't answer after a few seconds, so I shoved it open, because it was unlocked. She was sitting on the sink, a razor in hand, but then dropped it as I stepped in.
"What are you doing?" I practically shouted at her, for I was worried. She didn't say anything, she just stared down at the floor. Her eyes filled of guilt and shame. Like I had caught her doing something illegal.
"Christina, what the fuck were you doing?!" I repeated, shouting louder at her this time. Her eyes looked up from the floor and into mine. Glaring angrily.
"None of your business." She snapped, setting the razor down carefully and storming out of the bathroom past me.
I followed her out, and found her sitting in the kitchen staring at her hands. She yanked her hands away as she felt my presence, and stared at the table where she was sitting at.
I sat down beside her and looked at her, trying to ignore me. "Christina. Talk to me. I know something is wrong. You have to tell me."
She rolled her head backwards and leaned it against the chair, and then groaned loudly before responding to my question. "Brit, fuck off. You're not me. You don't own me. I'm not yours. It's none of your business what I do or don't do."
"It is my business though. I'm your friend and I care about you." It was true. I loved her more than anything. More than she'll ever know. She was what I lived for, and if she was unhappy so was I. And right now, she was unhappy. And it was tearing me up inside.
"I told you. It's none of your business. Now fuck off." Christina snarled at me. She got up, her chair falling down onto the floor. She stepped over it and stormed out of the room, upstairs into her room.
I followed her and knocked on the door. I could hear a faint crying behind the door.
"I said, fuck off! Go home!" She yelled at me, and I could hear and feel tears in her voice.
I sighed deeply, and then whispered through the door. "Bye Chrissy."