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!]


8. Chapter 8

Two days later, I am standing in front of my full, body-length mirror, staring at my reflexion. My hair is hanging straight down my back; I am wearing a leather top t-back dress, gold pumps, and a black, crystal encrusted clutch; I have on a few different gold jewelry pieces and white nails; dark mascara and eyeliner, gold eyeshadow, and cherry-pink lips cover my face. 

The last two days have been very uneventful. All I did was sit at home, watch TV, do a bunch of mindless things, and wonder what Justin was doing. Well, not so much wondering what he was doing, but where he was doing it. I already knew he was probably out with Selena (or more like in with Selena; he wouldn't go out with her because he would get caught by paparazzi), shoving his tongue down her throat. 

But what I can't seem to understand is why I'm doing absolutely nothing about it.

Here I am, completely and fully aware that my boyfriend and his ex are having an "affair", if you will, and I the only thing I can think to do is watch Daffy Duck spit all over everyone he talks to - poor souls; it must really suck to have a duck rain saliva onto your face just because he has a lisp - and eat like there's no tomorrow. 

Why can't I just walk up to Justin and tell him that I know he's cheating on me and that I never want to see his face again? But no, my mind doesn't work that way. Instead, my mind thinks that he is a perfect human being and that he deserves another chance and blah, blah, blah. I literally had a full argument between my mind and my conscience about why I should, or shouldn't, break up with him. And who do you think won?

My mind. 

So now, here I am, getting ready to go out into the real world, where life doesn't completely surround around me and my boy problems, to just have fun. Hopefully. 

From: Justin
[Hey babe sory i won't be home 2night 2 c u, gota work late @ the studio. i miss u. don't know when i'll be home.]

I study the text, wondering what I should text back.

From: Natalie
[That's okay. I'll be fine. Enjoy yourself & I miss you too.]

The only time Justin ever uses abbreviations more than a few times like that is when he is really busy or really drunk... That makes sense though.

I decide to turn my phone off because I don't need to be interrupted. Or get any annoying texts from Justin, which I doubt would happen anyways. The club that I'm going to, Soho House, is only a few miles away, so I get there in no time. I step out of my car and walk up to the bulky, glass doors placed at the front of the building. I pull open one of them and step into a refreshing, cool, and elegant reception area, with a grand staircase leading up to the lounge. I have been here many times before, but I still think it's amazing how beautifully the owner designed it. 

"Name?" a big guy with a minimal amount of hair asks gruffly, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

"Oh, um, Natalie Breyan."

"Hmm...there you are." He jabs his finger at my name on his list. "You can go up to the lounge if you'd like."

I thank him quietly before ascending the stairs to the relaxing lounge. I sit down at the thirty-foot bar and ask for a glass of wine. The woman behind the counter hands it to me and I quickly take a sip, letting the feeling of alcohol run through my veins. I don't drink very often, and even though it's only a sip, I begin to feel more relaxed immediately. I just want to forget about Justin, and Selena, and everything. 

When I'm halfway through my fifth glass of wine and too engrossed in my thoughts to pay any mind to other people, someone pokes me on the shoulder, startling me. I jump, almost dropping my wine glass. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a British accent says. 

I turn my head to face him and smile. 

"It's fine. Just thinking, that's all."

"Would you mind if I...?" He gestures to the stool next to me. 

"No, not at all." I give him another warm smile and return to my drink. "Y'know, you look very familiar," I tell him, studying his face for recognition. 

"I was going to say the same to you," he laughs, waving his hand for the bartender's attention. "I'll have a glass of wine... and another for her." He looks at my empty glass, but I shake my head. 

"No, I've had enough already."

"Okay, never mind the second one," he says to her. I process the fact that he was offering to pay for another drink for me, which is awfully sweet, so I change my mind. 

"Actually, I will have another glass."

"It's on me," he states. 

I smile again at him for the third time in a row. Either the alcohol is making me really happy, or he is. Probably both. 

"So, you said you recognized me?"

"Yes! But I can't think... Wait a minute. You're from that boy band!" 

"That's me. The one from 'that boy band'." He puts air quotes around the words. I can't tell if he was joking or not. 

"I'm so sorry, I sounded rude." My cheeks burn in embarrassment. "The past few days have been long and I can't seem to think straight." I am completely mortified that I said that to him; he is in the biggest boy band in the world and now he thinks I'm a snob. 

"Don't be sorry. I understand; we all have those days. By the way, I'm Louis Tomlinson. It's nice to meet you," he jokes. 

"I'm Natalie Breyan. It's nice to meet you too." The tightness in my chest lifts, and I finally feel like I can breathe without having to mentally think about it. 

"Hey, you're that famous supermodel, aren't you?"

"I am 'that famous supermodel'." I mock him by putting air quotes around 'that famous supermodel.'

"And you're dating Justin Bieber, right?"

"Hardly," I mutter, looking down at my glass. I swish the dark red liquid around, watching the color change to a slightly lighter shade.

"What does that mean?" he prods. I know he's staring at me, but if I look up, I'll probably start crying. 

"Um, well..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he whispers, saving me from further embarrassment, if that is even possible. 

"Thanks," I reply in an equally hushed tone, looking up to him and giving him a grateful smile.



If anyone loves making covers or trailers, I would really appreciate if you could make one for me! Just comment saying that you would like to make one, and ask me what I would like to be on the cover/how I would like the trailer; but, it will mostly be up to you. 

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