The One

Hollie Jones had adored Matthew Scott from afar for years, but they live seperate lives. He was a world famous popstar, she was a call centre worker. Yet Hollie had always been convinced that he was her 'one'. When their paths meet unexpectedly nothing could prepare her for the path her life is about to follow.

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1. Chapter One

I Hollie Marie Jones take thee Matthew James Scott to be my lawful wedded husband
To have and to hold from this day forward
For better for worse
For richer for poorer
In sickness and in health
To love and to cherish
'Til death do us part

I smiled nervously at Matthew. Afraid that I still had room to screw my vows up. I wasn’t safe yet. Not that it would have mattered, we didn’t exactly have an audience. We were getting married on the quiet. Trying to avoid the press.

I was wearing ripped jeans, purple converse trainers that had seen better days and a faded Beautiful South t-shirt. Matthew was slightly smarter in jeans, brown leather shoes and a black tight fitting short sleeved shirt. In fact we had rocked up in the clothes we had put on that morning, not intending to finish the day a married couple.

But what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Right?

“Hey H?”

“Hols?”

“Hollie!?”

“Huh?”

I opened my eyes and stared in to his. Not the gorgeous blue/gray eyes of Matthew Scott, but the striking green ones of my boyfriend Tom who looked a little angry. He was stood in front of the sofa, where I had fallen asleep, brandishing a wooden spoon. There were glorious smells coming from the kitchen, but I wasn’t hungry. In fact there was nothing more I felt like doing than crawling up the stairs into bed. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“Sorry” I muttered. “I must have dozed off for a minute there”

Tom glared at me. I knew what he was thinking. You always fall asleep when we come home from the early shift, and I’m left cooking dinner. It was true. I did. But I couldn’t help it.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’m that interesting” he said sarcastically, clearly annoyed.

“I’m sorry” I repeated softly. But I couldn’t argue that he wasn’t boring, because well sometimes, he was. That wasn’t the reason I’d fallen asleep though and he knew it.

“You were thinking about him again weren’t you?”

“No” I lied.

“You were” he sighed. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this fan shit”

Clearly he wanted to start an argument. Well, that was fine by me. It had been brewing for days. ‘This fan shit’ was how we had first met. I had been in-between my a-level exams and having a rare night off at a Boys Next Door concert, he had been behind the bar at the arena, having a year off before going to University. I remember thinking that he was cute, but that may have been because he’d served me alcohol at the age of 17 without bothering to ask me for ID. Besides I hadn’t been looking that night, my mind had been on one man only - Matthew Scott.

Our paths had crossed again almost six months later at the Fresher’s Ball of Birmingham University. He had drunkenly walked me home after my friends had disappeared with boys at various stages of the night. It seemed the done thing to do. But I wasn’t that kind of girl.
Tom I learned was shy. It had taken almost six weeks for us to get together, we hadn’t looked back since.

These days we worked together for a large world wide insurance company who had offices outside of town on a business park near Bristol where we lived together.

“Oh really” I retorted. “What’s the matter? Are you frightened I’m going to leave you for some former pop star that doesn’t even know I exist?”

“Well. I. Er” He looked flustered. As well he might. Put to him bluntly his argument seemed ridiculous.

But was it really so? Had I not turned this very scenario over in my head countless times before. Wondering what it would be like to be loved by this perfect man?

“Well?” I said impatiently. I wasn’t in the mood for pissing about.

“I guess not” he sighed. But I could see he didn’t want to let it drop. He was going to tell me what he thought whether I was interested to hear it or not.

I wasn’t ready to give him a chance, just yet. “No, of course its not” I spat. “in fact, the only reason I would leave you Tom is because you snore like a pig and I can’t get to bloody sleep at night. I can’t even sleep on the sofa because the walls are so thin in this god damn place…”

Tom stared at me, his mouth open. I don’t think he’d expected that. Well it was tough. If he didn’t snore, I would sleep at night, and we probably wouldn’t have been having this conversation.

Tom sighed and plonked himself heavily on the sofa beside me. “Look Hollie. I just…” he paused and stood up from the sofa.  Tom could never be still when he was agitated. “I don’t think we can go on like this” he said softly.

I stared at him for a moment then nodded. He was right. But god-damn-it I had so wanted to get in there first. There were so many things I wanted to say, wanted to continue my little rant, but I knew I wouldn’t. I would let him do all the talking as usual whilst I was forced to listen.

I listened as he moaned about me being too tidy, I listened as he moaned about me having too many clothes and shoes, and I listened as he moaned about me elbowing him in the night to try and stop him snoring.

I listened until I had had enough.

I got up quietly from the sofa, picked up my car keys from the table and told Tom to ‘get a life’. I also slammed the front door on my way out of it to let him know just how angry I was. I got in the car, slammed that door too for good measure and put my foot down. I didn’t know where I was going. I only knew that I needed to get away from him.

Possibly for a very long time...

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