Athelia Queann is living the glamorous life in London as one of the richest people in England. She's a big sensation, and everything the fans thinks she's not. She's manipulative, spoiled, selfish and nothing is never good enough for a star like her. Behind all the glitter and the fake smile, a loneliness is slowly tearing her up inside. But one day a person enters her life and changes everything. Even though Athelia don't want anyone to come this close to her, that one person starts becoming really importnant whether she wants it or not. That person is someone she used to know as Niall Horan from One Direction. Nothing more.


2. Picture perfect

I said hi. To a lot of people I didn't care about. And I knew that as soonest our handshake was finished and I had left, they would forget about me and in the end they don't gave a shit about me. That was how this life worked. We loved each other for our reputations and positions, not for the persons we were. We gave fake compliments, we pulled on fake smiles even though we couldn't stand the person and we pretended to be happy even though most of us were living a life of quiet desperation. Exept me ocourse, I fast told myself. I was happy, I was. I didn't need anyone to love me. I loevd myself so much, it was enough. Besides no one was good enough for me.

I took a champagne-glass and feeled it with sparkling expensive champagne.

I looked around, and felt alone. Everyone was laughing, and talking and I was just.... drinking. Alone.

I felt thirsty after something else than champagne as my mind started spinning around. I felt slightly dizzy and ralized I needed to get out of the big room. I needed to find a toilet, so I could get some water and air that wasn't filled with laugher and loud talk.

 The toilets were empty, and the light were uncomftable clear. I looked my self in the mirror. I was perfect. My hair was curled the way it should be curled, my dress fitted me perfectly and my skin was so beatiful. I swallowed as I considered just drinking from the tap. I thought it looked so pathetic, when others did it but I was alone and very dizzy and thirsty so I did it. It felt nice, with the cold water running down my throat. The dizzyness fainthed a little as I rested my head in my arms and took a deap breath. I felt so alone. Sorounded by bare white walls. Drinking directly from the tap.

After some longs seconds of standing just admiring myself in the mirror breathing in and out deeply I decided to join the party again, but as I walked out the door to the hall the door closed quickly and my dress got stucked between the door and the doorframe. I didn't notice so I just kept on walking. I could hear a horrible sound of the substance getting ripped open. I turned around.

The dress was ruined. My dress. My beautiful beautiful dress was now a disaster. I grabbed the substance and pulled. It ripped open even more and I felt terribly helpless. I kept pulling in the dress but it was stuck. Thing like this didn't happen to me. They just didn't. I was perfect, this didn't happen to people like me.

"Come on!", I whispered with a shaking frustrated voice. I pulled again and the substance got ripped up with another horrible shrill sound.

"Please..." I begged, as my eyes watered. I felt helpless and desprate. The tears were burning in my eyes, treatening to get out.  Why did something like this happen to me?

"Oh, let me help you..." a man voice, with a special british accent said from behind me. I just shook my head without even turning around to look at the man who wanted to help me. The frustated tears started to stream down my cheeks and I felt my mascara running with it.

"No...no...It just won't....it....won't...it's stuck", I hissed confused.

The man came closer and I could feel him behind me. He sat down in squat and carefully took my hands away from the dress. I looked up into some beautiful bluse eyes. Wasn't he.... the Irish one from that boygroup.... that horrible group?

"Maybe you should open the door, that would make it easier", he smiled and pushed to the door while carefully pulling out my dress which was now ruined. I stopped crying, and wipped away my tears. I tried to be brave, as I pulled the dress to me and stood up.

"I do no need any help" I just said with a more steady voice . "Especially not from you".

"Sorry....it just looked like you....", he began but I cut him off. He was not gonna pretend like some sort of hero.

"I didn't, now leave me alone!", I hissed trying to sound confident, as I was way to good for him and refused to admit I had actually needed his help.

"It's a beautiful dress".

"I know".

"What's your name?", he reached out for my hand. No. I was not gonna shake hands with a fool like him. He was probably not even rich. I've heard some of their songs. What was that? It sounded like high-school music to me. "My name is..."., he said friendly.

"It don't really care", I interupted.

He looked a little chocked as I left the hall. He was probably already falling for me. Boys usually did.



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