Natalie, the world-famous model, thought her life was perfect. But her fantasy comes crashing to a halt when she finds out that Justin, her long-time boyfriend, has been cheating on her. She tries to figure out what to do, but soon, one member of a well-known boy band catches her eye... Then, when Justin makes a surprising announcement, what will happen? As she focuses on her love for her boyfriend, she constantly finds her mind slipping back to the blue-eyed beauty.

Who knew that Natalie would become a white liar too?

[Cover made by me!]


6. Chapter 6

"Rise and shine, Nat." I roll over on what I thought was my bed and end up with my face flat against the floor.

"What?" I mutter against the scratchy carpet material.

"Are you okay?!" the person who made me fall yells into my ear. If am not mistaken, I even hear a small giggle. 

"Just dandy," I grumble, pushing myself up from the not-so-comfortable position I was 'luckily' placed into. 

I turn around to see who the culprit is. 


"I can't believe you made me fall!"

"I didn't make you fall, you rolled over by yourself. I had no part in it whatsoever."

"Maybe next time you shouldn't wake me up in the middle of a wonderfully peaceful slumber," I counter. "And get a bigger couch!"

"You wish," she laughs, pulling me in for a tight hug. "How are you?" she whispers, and I am immediately brought back to the fact that I slept here; not at my own house with my 'loving' boyfriend. 

"I'm good, I guess." I pull back. "Except for the fact that the whole front part of my body is sore. Did you even know that floors are hard?"

"Omigosh, no way!" she squeals.

"Yes, way!"


"What's for breakfast?" I ask after we finish our little girly moment.

"I was thinking we could go out somewhere?" 

I hop up onto the barstool in front of her kitchen counters and think. "Sounds good. So, I'm assuming you don't cook often, do you?" I add with a wink.

"Not a whole lot. Whenever I cook, I normally just deface the item that I'm making before it is even finished because I'm awful at it."

"At least we know there's one cook in the relationship," I joke. 

Practically every single person (mainly women) in my family cooks, so it is, in a way, expected for me to be able to cook; and I have fulfilled that expectation. I remember when I was younger, my relatives would have a family reunion; everyone who could cook or bake would bring their best dishes -my favorite was my great aunt's cheesecake- and have a taste-testing contest to see who had the best food. The judges were those who didn't cook the meals (mainly men and children), which meant I was one of them. My grandmother used to tell me that someday I wouldn't be judging the contest, but rather in the contest, or at least my food would be. She was right though: every year at our reunion, I bake a pie and I have actually won a few years. 

"Who's the cook in what relationship?" a cheerful voice asks. The voice belongs to Christina -obviously, since she is the only other person with us-, who skips into the kitchen, her wet hair bouncing behind her head.

"I'm the cook in me and Gen's relationship," I inform her.

"Oh, gotcha." Chris isn't even surprised that I said Geneva and I are in a relationship. We act like this all the time.

"We're going out for breakfast," Gen speaks.

"Where to?" 

An idea pops into my head. "I was thinking we could go to Connor's!" I want to eat there badly because I haven't gotten the chance to in a while. Lately, I have been so busy with photo shoots, it didn't even cross my mind.

"Good idea. I'll go get dressed," Geneva says, walking off to her bedroom. 

"Gen, do you have any clothes I could borrow?" 

"Oh, right. Go ahead and pick anything from my closet. But do not pick anything that would be inappropriate, young lady." She turns around and shakes a finger at me.

"Possibly," I remark, causing her to glare playfully at me, before going into the bathroom to change.


Once at Connor's, we order our meals -I get a blueberry bagel with low-fat cream cheese (I've gotta stay fit!), a cup of fruit, and a small latte. I never really liked coffee when I was younger, but my grandfather got me addicted to it when he would come home from working at his restaurant and let me have a sip of his "evening relaxant", as he liked to call it.

"Y'know you're paying, right, Natalie?" Geneva inquires.

"No, I'm not. You're the reason why I French-kissed the floor. You owe me!"

"I'm kidding," she laughs.

"You French-kissed a floor?" The look on Christina's face is priceless. 

"Yes, Gen pushed me off the couch," I chuckle.

"I did not, you liar!" she jeers. 

"And I'm kidding as well." I smirk. "Gen woke me up quite brutally and unexpectedly this morning, thus resulting in me and the floor having a very intimate moment. You're lucky she never made you sleep on that couch." Geneva had bought her small apartment a year or two ago and just recently let Christina move in with her. Who knows, they might have to buy another bed, in case I move in...

"I guess I am! Too ba-," Chris starts.

"Natalie? Is that you?" I shudder when I hear that voice. How do I know it?

I slowly turn around and drop my bagel when I see who it is; thankfully it falls onto my napkin-covered lap. I pick it up and place it neatly on my plate, then turn back around.

"Selena, it's so good to see you." I give her the biggest smile that I can muster. 


So, what do you think? Sorry, this chapter was a bit of a filler. And I'm so terribly sorry for not updating in literally, like, three weeks! I just couldn't think of anything to write (aka writer's block, duh) and then I just let the time slip away from me. So terribly sorry!

But PLEASE still favorite, like, comment, and possibly fan me?

And don't forget: more feedback = quicker updates. I'm sure nobody likes writing something when nobody reads it! At least, that's the way I am...

P.S.- I changed Peri's name to Geneva (or Gen) because, well...you'll see. I just kind of had a logical thought pop into my head and I had to change her name. Sorry if there's any confusion!

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