Insecure: The Living Games

Ashley Page is just one of the other million insecure teenage girls. When she goes to a One Direction concert with her best friend Jo, she's spotted in the crowd by Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson. Who will she pick? There's only one way for her to pick, through The Living Games.

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4. Is This Real?

Ashley's P.O.V

Saturday Night

Fancy, out of place, and awkward is all I feel and all I can think about. The place Louis deciding to take me to is this super fancy 5 star restaurant where I have to wear a dress and every meal costs a thousand dollars and there's nothing I like on the menu. I'm a real simple girl. All I need is a drive thru burger and a Netflix movie to be happy. This whole dress up, pay way too much for a small portion, and stuff is unbearable to me right now.

"Enjoying yourself?" Louis asks taking a sip out of his 100 dollar liquor.

"Yeah," I lie almost laughing at myself.

"Would you like a drink?" he asks.

"I'm not old enough," I murmur while ducking my head behind the worlds most difficult menu.

"You are when you're with me," he smirks.

"What are you-" I stop after I peak my head over the menu to see him talking to a waiter in a…little black dress. (Another punch line they you probably didn't laugh at.) She bats her eyes at Louis and he attempts to ignore it. She gives me a nasty look and continues to just look at me.

"Run along," I say waving my hand at her. She gasps and walks away vigorously attempting to shake her butt as she walks which fails. She looks like she's trying to take a poop in her dress that barely passes her butt, "Hoe." I huff under my breath and Louis laughs.

"You're so sassy," he laughs.

"No I'm not, I just don't let people walk all over me," I say defensively and he puts on a fake shocked face and does three snaps.

"Oh no you didn't," he says rolling his head around with his hand up, snapping a 'z'. I laugh at him and everyone in the restaurant stares at us.

Another reason why I hate these kind of restaurants, you're only allowed to whisper or everyone looks at you like shut up you're crazy. Louis is really loud so why even bother to take me here just to get stared at by a bunch of snotty rich people that have no clue what McDonalds is? I'd rather be at McDonald's wearing sweat pants playing with the little kids in the play place than be here. That sounds like luxury to me right now.

A new male waiter, thank god, comes out and gives me a cup and puts a bottle on the table looking more bored with his job than you could imagine. I would be mad having to serve people like this, too. I wouldn't last one night of this job.

"Thanks," I say sympathetically and he nods, "I feel so bad for you." I add and he smiles.

"My dad owns the place and he makes me work here as punishment," he says, happy that he's not the only one that doesn't want to be here.

"Living the dream," I say and we both laugh a little.

"Enjoy your dinner," he says and then he walks off with a smile. I hope I made his night a little bet less miserable. I look at Louis and he's pouring both of us a cup of of liquor.

"I hate these type of places, too," he says handing me the cup.

"So why would you take me here?" I ask taking it from him.

"I wanted to impress you," he adds and I nod sniffing the liquor. It smells like bleach but less strong, "Tell you what, if you drink that cup, well get drive thru, go to my house, and watch a movie for the rest of the night."

My eyes widen at the offer and before I know it, I'm chugging down the bottle trying not to let it touch my taste buds. How do people like this garbage? In a few endless seconds, I chugged the whole bottle down. I slam the glass against the table and quickly stand up.

"Let's go," I say ignoring everyone looking at me.

"I need to pay the bill first," he laughs.

"True," I say sitting back down. I can't wait to get out of here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is what I call a date. Sitting on a couch with McDonald's in hand and cuddling with Louis watching this cheap horror movie on Netflix. Louis feeds me fries throughout the movie as I lay on his chest. I'm feeling a little dizzy from the alcohol I was dared to during earlier. At least I'm out if that stupid dress, now I'm wearing Louis' sweater which cuts off mid thigh and I'm wearing the same shorts from this morning because I wore them under my dress. This is relaxing.

I shiver a little under the thin blanket he gave me and Louis pulls me closer. I look up at him and he looks at me right in the eyes. His eyes shimmering from the TV light and the bad guy in the movie gets the girl and she yells. We both smile at each other a little still looking each other in the eyes. And then the unthinkable happens, he leans in.

Timeout. Everybody just stahp it for a second.. Am I drunk or something? Louis Tomlinson did not just lean in to kiss Ashley Page. It just didn't happen. It couldn't have happened, that's not possible. I'm drunk and I'm dreaming, yeah I have to be. Might as well enjoy this dream. I lean in a little and then he does and then I do and then he does and then I do and we stop, our lips millimeters away from each other just like Liam and I did at the park earlier. It's his turn to lean in, the final lean in before we kiss, but he stays there and takes a deep breath. His breath smells like French fries which smells kinda good but kinda bad at the same time.

"Pinch me, this can't be real," he whispers with closed eyes.

"Right after you pinch me," I whisper in the same tone as him.

"Is this real?" he asks.

"I was gonna ask the same question," I say.

"There's just something about you that's irresistible," he says.

"Is this real?" I ask.

"Let's find out."

He finally does the final lean in, nothing but our lips touching and then he puts his hands on my hips, pulling my body close to his. I wrap my arms around his neck, pushing his lips harder against mine. I feel his tongue slide against my bottom lip, requesting entrance. Request granted. Louis creeped his right hand down the left side of my body and found my butt and I felt him smile against my lips. I smiled back and he groped my butt and picked me up off of the couch. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he disconnected our lips and laid me on my back on the couch. And for that second that I'm laying down and looking up, he looks so tall and strong. He pulls up my large sweater over my bra and he bends over again. The sweater blocks my sight of his face. I feel him kiss me on my stomach and licks the edge of my pants and tugs on them with two fingers. His head moves back up and he pulls the sweater back down and it's not Louis, it's Liam.

I wake up yelling. I'm laying down on a bed, but I can't see, it's dark. There's a digital clock on a table next to me. It says 4:24 A.M. It was a dream, a really weird one. I see Louis' head lying on a pillow next to me, facing away from me.

"You alright, Ashley?" he moans.

"Yeah. What happened last night?" I ask trying to look over at his face, but it's buried in the pillow.

"Don't you remember?" he asks.

"No," I say.

"We had sex," he says finally turning around and it's Louis with a smirk plastered on his face.

"But…" I say, left speechless searching for the right words to say. He looks down at my body and I do too, I'm naked I look down at his body and he is as well. Kinda gross, but kinda hot. I look back up at his eyes and he smirks.

"Judging by the sounds you made, it seemed like you would never forget," he joked, is he joking? I blinked my eyes really hard, trying to remember, trying to think straight. I open my eyes again it's Liam instead of Louis. I knew it, it was too good to be true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday Morning

I wake up again laying on the same couch as in my dream. "Okay Ashley, wake up already." Is all I think.

"Morning Ash," Louis says giving me a peck on the cheek. He's up and obviously been awake for a while, he's wearing PJs and a chef hat, "I made breakfast for ya. It should be ready soon," he says.

"What time is it?"

"It's 10ish. You fell asleep at the end of the movie and I couldn't get you to wake up so I could take you home, so I just left you on the couch," he says as he walks off towards the kitchen, "I had a great time last night." My eyes widen.

"What exactly happened last night?" I ask. He crunches up his eyebrows.

"We went out for dinner, you drank a little, then we left, got drive thru, came here, watched a movie, and you fell asleep. Those were the highlights," he says mixing a pot of something on the stove. I nod. We didn't kiss, it was just some twisted dream.

"What're you making? Smells good," I say, getting up off the couch.

"Cream of wheat. You made it yesterday and I loved it but it's just not working out as well for me," he laughs as I investigate his cooking skills.

"Keep mixing," I demand, I walk to the fridge and grab the butter and milk, "where's the spoons?"

"The drawer on the left," he says pointing with one hand then continues mixing.

"Sugar?" I ask.

"That cabinet," he points. I grab the sugar, butter, milk and spoon then join Louis at the pot of his attempted cream of wheat. Close but yet so far.

"Keep mixing," I say pouring in some sugar and milk at the same time. I plop in 2 spoonfuls of butter, "keep mixing for about 5 minutes and then it should be ready."

"Thanks chef," he says.

"What's the point of wearing a chefs hat if you can't cook Tommo?" I ask and he laughs.

"Just to feel like I'm actually accomplishing something," he laughs.

"Well, you weren't," I say and he shrugs. I get my phone to see a text from Jo. I text her back.

J- Ashley we need to meet up ASAP

A-Why what happened

A few seconds later she replies.

J-We have to talk about our dates

I totally forgot that Jo had a date with Niall and Harry

J-a lot of stuff went down

A-same well kinda

A-when and where

J-Dunkin' Donuts at 1

A-you know I'd rather take a nap and or blog all day

J-I'll buy you food

A-in that case I'll be there

J-see you then booski 😘✌️

A-later 😘✌️

My weakness for food is almost sad. Oh well. First things first, breakfast with Louis then a talk with Jo. I'm almost shaking with excitement. Killer sarcasm right now.

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