Kiss and Tell

Emily just thought she was going to your average One Direction concert.
Emily just thought wrong.

Emily's 18, and when she and her best friend Jenny turn up to a 1D concert to find it's cancelled, they aren't pleased. All too fast, they're sharing a hotel with the boys, and Jenny's changed. Drastically. They discover parites, clubs, drugs and fame. Jenny's going off the rails, hitting headlines for the wrong reasons, though she's not the only one making mistakes. Emily gets pregnant, oblivious to who the father is. Let's just remember not all stories have a happy ending, and where there's love, there's drugs, and where there's drugs, there's guns..

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19. The Very Very Very Large Hot Chocolate

 

"I'm really sorry," Harry says, for like, the 50th time. I laugh a little.

"Don't get worked up about it, I don't mind. Would've been nicer a couple years later, but hey, that's just how it goes!" I give him a friendly wink, then realise it looked a lot better in my head. Manchester's a pretty big city. Harry tugs me into a coffee shop, and I stumble through the door.

"Let me treat you to something to make up for it, eh?" He smiles, his face crinkling up. He leans across the counter towards a waitress. "I'll have two very very very large hot chocolates with lots and lots of cream and lots and lots of marshmallow please!"

The waitress, a young skinny girl, hammers something into the till.

"Six ninety-five please," She says beaming. She knows who he is. She's trying not to freak out. Harry slides a tenner across the counter, and suddenly a white light blinds my eyes. Harry sighs, drawing a hand to his face to cover his eyes.

"Paparazzi," He mutters. "Can never escape 'em."

The young skinny lass places two mugs overflowing with cream onto the counter, smiling, staring at Harry. He grabs both mugs, and nods towards a table at the very back of the room, mostly out of sight. Heads turn. Cameras flash. Harry groans. He pulls his beanie hat further down his face, taking a pair of blacked-out sunglasses and shoving them up the bridge of his nose. "Hurry."

I flump into the couchy-chair thing and breathe. We're out of sight. Harry leans over the table grabbing for a pack of sugar, and twists it between his fingers.

"I'm an idiot," He groans. "I'm sorry Emily, I can't believe I even thought of doing this. "

"What?! What are you even on about?"

"Paparazzi. By tonight, you'll be front cover of some newspaper." He sighs, tearing open the sache of sugar, spraying white crystals across the table. He pushes them into a little clump.

Front cover of some newspaper? Excitement sparks inside me. Is that wrong? I realise I'm smiling when Harry grabs my hand, shaking his head.

"You don't want this. It'll ruin you. Paparazzi takes away your life. Fame is nothing, it's horrible, you just gotta smile to those god damned cameras, smile at your enemy." He leans back in his chair, releasing my hand. Butterflies spread through my veins. "You're two people. Yourself, and your fake self. Fame is like a big ocean wave. It crashes down on you, and you lose yourself in it. You're left with your fake self. I don't want that to happen to you." He strokes my finger with his thumb.

Have I already lost myself, though?

Am I just a fake?

Is there the real Emily somewhere, looking for me?

I look into Harry's eyes.

"It won't," I say. But I know it already has.

 

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