My love, My Life, If only he knew.

'She's beautiful'
'She's drop-dead gorgeous'
...But I want him back... I want Harry back...

This story is a fan-fic over One Direction (sorry) And Philipa and Harry's
relationship is deteriorating, but then Harry joins One Direction and completely forgets about Pipa, or did he?

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1. Chapter 1

Im 17.

My name is Phillipa Liessa-Del Brown.

I have curly medium length red hair.

I moved to Nottingham, but previously lived in cheshire.

my best friend is Hannah Jameson, but she lives 114 miles away. 

 

 ~ Dreams do come true

 

 

' she's beautiful!'

'she's gorgeous...'

He walks up to me and grins sheepishly, and quietly whispers  'so you want to go to the cinema with me?' I grin back and reply 'of course I will Harry!' his face lightens up and he grins even more. 'Harry! Niall! Stop flirting, we gotta go!' spits an impatient Louis.  'I'll see you at...'    

 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!  

 

I slide my arm out into the cold air and punch my alarm until it stops. I grudgingly slump out of bed nearly tripping over a wire and stumble to the bathroom. I turn the shower on and brush my teeth till they are squeaky clean. I slide into the shower and I let the water caress my cold body making my skin steam making me feel secure and warm. I stand under the delicate velvet drops for what seems like forever, but is only about ten minutes. I love going in the shower, it's the only place I can have to myself, to have an open space were I can be left with my thoughts and its a place were I don't have to care about anyone else.  I step out of my shower and Walt's off into my room in a towel.  I slip on my slightly ripped red jeans, a strap top and a baggy grey and white jumper. My fashion isn't cliche like the 'plastics' wear. I hate fitting in, its just not me.   

~ Im sorry im not perfect

 

Perfect. A simple word with two syllables in. A word only an optimist would use to describe their life. A mentally ill girl would use it. Glamour and love can be 'perfect' but only if you look above the pain and torture. There is no such thing as perfect. Perfect is what you seek for comfort and to be able to contemplate your situation. You could say my life was perfect. If only I knew I was playing a game, a game I took seriously but the competitor took as a joke. Breaking my delicate little China heart as it was brutally smashed on broken glass and on a cold hard tile floor.

Perfect. My life seems to be perfect. I have a loving mum and a caring dad, the best friends I could ever have, college friends etc but it was all an illusion for my competitor needed me to play in his cruel heartless game. I have a secret nobody knows about and it tears me apart just thinking about it. One boy, I hopelessly fell in love with, who is now in a world wide famous band and the thought that I will only ever be able to see him is at a CD signing crushes me, it also revolts me in a way. My grades are good, my social life is exciting. Im always the girl who will flip out if the world gets tedious, im the girl you can trust to stay strong, im tough...         ...on the outside. On the inside if I get hurt I will hide away and cry.  Music is my escape, its my life. I never leave my slightly scratched IPod at home. My music is alot like my personality, if you look through it, my idols lay encrusted on the 'most played' list. Foo fighters, paramore, Avril Lavagne. And then One direction...    I felt doomed, exasperated, iscolated, but I didn't know my life would change.    

 

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