The Girl that Wasn't

Zerrie, a 'real' couple. Well, they're not real at all. Management forced them to date each other so that both bands could get more publicity and prosper. It's been working, but Perrie and Zayn aren't. They're friends, no, not even, they're acquaintances who fake being in love. The one thing the media never knew about was Perrie's twin, aspiring college student at Oxford, Scarlett Elle Edwards wants nothing to do with Perrie's career. But when Perrie runs to her, sobbing, begging for her to fill in, Scarlett gives in. But what will happen when "Perrie" and Zayn meet?


3. Plan

author's note-i'm sad that no one is reading my story. i used to have one thousand views on my old story, so i guess i'm just kinda bummed lol. #milaisthirsty i really want to hear fifth harmony's new single. i'm typing this chapter while listening to the radio for it to come on. i loooooove that photo of perrie okay she's just beautiful and so talented and if you hear her voice her accent is just asdklfasdklf. i'm american so whenever i hear accents i flip out ok. it's an american teenage girl thing (: 

hope you like the new chapter!!

please keep commenting, liking, and fanning. and if you love this movella, please add it to your favorites. it means a lot to have feedback 



My head lifts up slowly, and I can see the desperate look in Perrie's eyes. The unreadable eyes we share, but for some reason only she and I understand each other so deeply. I nod slowly and stand, shoving my phone back into my purse and slinging it over my shouler. "Let's go Bunny," she nods silently and stands, pushing her chair in and walking next to me. "Thank you," I hear her mumble. I nod silently and open the door for her, following suit after she strides through. I fall into step next to her. "What's wrong, baby?" I ask her and she shakes her head, "Just-just take me to your dorm please, Scarlett," By her expression I can tell she's breaking down inside. The real Pez would be bawling by now. But she holds it together, her expression unreadable to everyone but me. I burst through my door and check for my roommate. "We're alone," I tell my sister. I sit down on my bed and she sits next to me.

Then she finally breaks down.

She cries and cries and cries and I don't know how to stop it and it hurts to watch and then I'm crying and we're both crying together. I cry for the time I haven't spent with her, haven't been supporting her, haven't been making sure she's ok, and I realize. what is Perrie crying about? I breathe heavily, finally not gurgling when I speak. 

"Perrie Louise Edwards, I want a full story. What. Is. Wrong?"

This only makes her cry harder. Pressure. So much pressure to be perfect. I pause. 

"Bunny, it's killing me to see you like this. Please love, what's wrong?" I ask in a gentler tone.

She sighs, "Every fucking thing," I gasp. Perrie stopped swearing ages ago. I remember it as her 'X Factor Rehab'. She stopped hanging with bad crowds, forgot about bullies, slimmed, took singing lessons more serious, and cleaned her mouth. 

She sighs again, "Management. My boyfriend. Management. Paparazzi. Management." 

I nod. "What's wrong with your band's management?" She sighs for the third time. I'm getting irate but I shrug it off with the thought of her crying. Better sighing than crying, right?

"They make me do things I don't want to do. I never have time for you or anyone anymore. They hate my looks so I have to wear gallons of makeup. The only freedom I have about my looks is my hair. I can eat whatever I want, but if I even look like a gained a pound or two my personal trainer comes in and gives me a diet plan and a gym schedule. Not to mention the fact that my boyfriend and I aren't really together. We have to be to get more publicity for each other. And then we have to go on fake dates and kiss and the hugging isn't that bad because we're sort of friends but I hate that I have to kiss someone I don't love. It's like a forced relationship. Like being molested. I hate it. I hate everything. And then the rumors that go on about me. I wish I was you. I wish I didn't give a shit about anything like you. I am beyond jealous of you, of your relaxed life. And the media doesn't even focus on you. Sure, they have pictures of you at my concerts or award shows but they never come to your house and bang on your doors when you're sleeping or taking a shower. Zayn. Gorgeous. Not really my type though. More like a brother. All of One Direction. They're brothers. It's hard to think of them in any other way. But I don't love him and I don't love being with him and I don't love anything about him. It's just so fucking hard, Scarlett. So hard," she breaks down into tears again and I think she's finished.


"What can I do about it, though? What is there for me to do other than sitting her and crying about it?" I ask desperately, feeling so helpless because my baby is breaking down in front of my eyes and I don't know what to do.

"That's why I came," Perrie says in a small voice. "I need a favor," she begs.

I nod, "Whatever I can do. I don't like seeing you like this," I say.

"I need you to be me," she says and as cheesy as possible, I was sipping my latte. I choked.

She started to gesture desperately, "Scarlett it wouldn't be that hard, I promise. You and I are really alike-" 

I cut her off, "No, Pez, we are both completely different people. COMPLETELY different. It'll be impossible," I run my hands through my long hair. 

She nods, pleading with her eyes, "Just get a short haircut! Little Mix's tour is done, and if we start recording new songs then I'll come back, but please, please do this for me." 

Her face. So lost. So alone. Red. Tear-streaked. Her stomach. So small. She hasn't had a proper meal in years. So skinny. So defeated. So... broken.

I look her in the eye. 


She smiles, "Then we start now,"


author's note-please please pretty please with louis or harry on top your choice like, fan, and comment this story.

and also i'd really like to know if you actually read my author's note so here's a test


or vanilla? 

lol i love you guys


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