That Brunette And Me

Amelia just moved to Britain from a small town, after having a terrible relationship with a past boyfriend. She meets superstar Liam Payne, but can she get over heartbreak, the wrath of Directioners, and being in fame? Or will she break under the pressure?



27. Questioning.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." I said, watching with wide eyes as Elle woke up. I sipped my coffee slowly from my wheelchair, ready to begin questioning her. My hands were clasped around the cup, the warmth seeping into my fingers. I had a habit of not using the handle, as I didn't trust it too well. I always dropped the mug.

"Ugh, why are you up so early?" She groaned, flipping over. I grinned mischievously as I rolled over to her side of the bed.

"Just wondering where you were last night so late." I said, elbowing her side. She flipped around quickly, her eyes wide.

"Looking for a job, you know that."

I shrugged, then took a long sip of the coffee. "You aren't one to skip parties, Elle."

"Uh, I need to find work, my parents will be mad and all." She said quickly, flipping around again.

"If you don't tell me the truth, I'll go tell your parents you don't have a job yet." I threatened.

Elle sat straight up in bed and looked me in the eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, yes I would! Now spill!"

"Okay, fine! I decided to go sightseeing, and Niall offered to show me around. Okay?" She said, exasperated.

"Ha! I knew it! I could tell something was going on between you two!"

"Just be quiet about it, we were trying to keep it a secret," she said. "But you stuck your nose into my business."

I motioned that I was locking my lips and throwing the key away. "Your 'secret' is safe with me."

"Good. Now let me sleep!"

"Uh, no. Elle, it's almost 10 in the morning.." I told her, whisking the covers from over her. She grumbled for a while before getting up.

"You are gonna regret this one day, I swear."

"I sincerely doubt that." I said in a sing-song voice, wheeling over to where my laptop was. Haven't been on it for a while, mostly because I was afraid of Directioners. I logged onto my Twitter account, and my laptop was immediately flooded with notifications of new followers, tweets and such.

"Oh my gosh." I gasped as I looked at my follower count. 200,000 followers. When had that happened??

"What is it?" Elle said, her long legs unfolding from her perch on a chair. She walked over to see what I was talking about. "Whoa. How the fuck did that happen?"

"I have no idea."

"Looks like the One Direction fellows have a little leverage over people." She snorted, then proceeded to take out her bedazzled Apple laptop.

"Checking yours?" I asked, in which she nodded and proceeded to log on.

"Shit." She swore, turning her laptop around. She had 50,000 followers. I gaped at both of our Twitters in amazement.

"I should probably check my Instagram then." I decided, grabbing my iPhone from my purse. I checked my count on that, and was amazed by the followers on that as well.

"Same here, I barely even use my fucking Instagram." Elle pouted. She only had one picture on her account, and it was of me and her at some party. I, on the other hand, had more than 20 pictures, mostly of scenery and a few scattered pictures of Elle and I. I then came across some of Jake, in which I deleted straight away. Couldn't have any memories of him, they made me feel... Helpless. Useless. And a number of other feelings which I tried to hide.

"Uh, we have 400 likes on this picture of you and me, Ami." she stammered, looking purely amazed.

"I need to take a picture of me and you, right now. Okay?" I demanded, turning the camera on and turning it to us. She rolled her eyes, but didn't protest. I snapped a picture and used it, and decided on no filter, before Elle shook her head.

"Uh, no offence, but I'm pretty sure we'd look like pure shit if you didn't use a filter. Kay?" She stole my phone and turned it on a filter and uploaded it, after tagging herself in the post. "Perfect."

Almost immediately, I started to get likes, and in 5 minutes I already had 300 likes. It was crazy.

"I'm now going to tweet some random shit on Twitter, see how many re-tweets I get." Elle said, typing fast on her laptop.

"Don't make the boys look bad, promise?" I said, reaching my pointer finger out. She stuck her finger out and we did our special 'promise shake' in which we touch fingers and then twist them around each other. We started doing that when we were very little, and it stuck.

"I promise!" We said in unison, smiling like idiots. She showed me her tweet, which was simple, and definitely made a point.


I need a fucking job.

I giggled, and I agreed with her.

"Oh yes you do! Now let's look on the computer for modeling things in London, now shall we?" I said, pulling up a new window on my internet browser. I typed it in fast, seeing only a few results.

"You can do this, I'm busy." I scoffed, closing the window and leaving it all to Elle. I doubted she would actually try, although.

"Holy shit, I have 20 re-tweets already!" She called, as I laughed. We'd better get used to it, because I bet this is just the beginning.







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