Too Good To Be True..

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  • Published: 8 Feb 2014
  • Updated: 8 Feb 2014
  • Status: Complete
A Louis Tomlinson one shot! The girl's name is never mentioned because it's YOU! I don't know your name because you're that fabulous, obviously. What is the harsh reality of life? Read on.

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1. Too Good To Be True.

(Note: The girl's name isn't mentioned because it's YOU!)

 

“No, I’m not going.” My older sister shook her head, and I sighed. I desperately craved a bag of extra-spicy Doritos, but we did not have it in our house, and I was a bit nervous about going out in the dark. It was only half past six in the evening but it was in the winter, so the sun goes to bed early. Bless the sun.

“Please Charlie.” I told her, on the brink of getting down on my knees and begging properly, and she shook her head, soon giggling at something on her phone. “Jason isn’t funny.” I muttered sarcastically, and she gave me a warning glare which meant it was time for me to leave her bedroom. It stinks of Katy Perry’s new perfume anyway, it was practically suffocating me. “See you.” I frowned, but I paused as I was about to walk out, my eyes catching sight of a glinting £2 coin; I just had to have something that annoys her as much as she just irked me. Quickly swooping down, I grabbed it and ran downstairs, hurriedly pulling on cheap shoes from ADSA. I would have put on my VANs but the sound of my sister yelling meant I had no time to search for them. They are probably in my room anyway. I leaned up onto my tip toes and grabbed the spare key from the hook that was screwed to the wall for the keys, and I unlocked the door. “I’m out!” I yelled for my mum to hear, dad was probably at work or something. Starting to walk down the road after locking the door, I sighed as I shoved the spare key into my pocket, then my hands into both pockets as I forgot to put on a coat. Stupid me. But it was a cool evening, with the gentle breeze against my cheeks making me feel calm for some reason. I loved it when I felt so… independent out in the world. Hearing footsteps running towards me, I turned around to spot a couple of girls screaming a familiar name. “Louis?” I murmured to myself, “Louis Tomlinson?” I muttered, my brain trying to register who he was. Charlie said that name rather a lot. Of course, One Direction! But why were they here? I looked around confusedly, and soon enough, I started to wander after the screaming girls out of curiosity. Man, One Direction were really fit, Charlie showed me the photos, but I was too focused on one band; Union J. I heard some extremely deep, firm voices yelling at the girls to calm down, and I looked up from the specific girl I was following. One Direction is here? That was what I was suspecting. If they were, Charlie would be so irked that she did not come with me.

“I want your baby!” “Marry me Harry!” “I love you Niall!” “Come here Liam!” “You’re sexy Zayn!” “Louis, I love carrots!” various screams were sounded, and I leaned up onto my tip toes yet again to get a better look, and sure enough, there were five boys walking out of the corner shop. They all looked annoyed, fed up even. Right, I remember Charlie saying the blond one is Niall, the curly haired one is Harry. The rest, I am not quite sure. I think Zayn is the Asian-looking one, Zayn is such an unique name, and so is he. But the one that I found the most attractive; the one with a beanie shoved onto his hair, his chocolate-shaded brown hair flopping out onto his forehead, wearing an ADIDAS grey hoodie. He looked so cute, yet so… mature. I heard a girl scream out- “Louis, I love you!” and I noticed that boy look at that girl and smile awkwardly. He must be Louis. Now, Liam is the last one left, with a cute little quiff. He has got a cute nose. I have no realisation on how I managed to remember their names. Wait, those girls were screaming their names anyway. I probably picked it up somehow.

“Five minutes.” One of the One Direction boys yelled and some girls ran up behind me, pushing me against the girls in front of me. Man, those girls are insane. I groaned quietly as I tried to push through them, not in the mood to socialise with people, let alone One Direction- the world’s biggest boyband. The girls roared loudly different statements, some of them cringe-worthy. The five men started to go through the middle of the huge crowd, talking and interacting with some of the girls. Struggling to get out, some girls started to push me even more and I groaned in frustration. Why would they not let me out?!

“Get out of my way,” I murmured, attempting yet again to push through the crowd, my claustrophobia starting to kick in and I sighed deeply, running a hand through my hair, muttering. A girl glared at me before shoving me into the direction of the five boys, and I gulped nervously as a tall, bulk-looking man walked over to me and told me to move away. I nodded obediently, starting to try and push through the crowd again.

“Wait!” a voice yelled, the accent sounding so familiar: So Doncaster sounding. I remember Charlie mentioning that Louis was from Doncaster, and I turned around to see Louis talking to the same guard who basically told me to clear off, and I smiled slightly. “Sorry about that.” He chuckled nervously, looking over at me. “I’m Louis.” He introduced, and I smiled as he slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “You should already know that.” Louis chuckled, gesturing to some of the girls screaming his name. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” He called to most of the fans and they screamed loudly. Wincing quietly at the effect the screaming had on my ears, I laughed slightly. I noticed him taking out a piece of paper and a pen, and he scribbled down numbers before handing it to me. “I have to go, but call me sometime yeah?” he asked and I nodded. “I never got your name.” Louis chuckled, but he was soon pulled away by some of his bodyguards. I sighed, calling my name after him but I do not think he heard me.

Starting to walk home with a family-sized bag of Doritos in my arm, I texted the number: ‘Hey, it’s that girl you met earlier.’, but my phone told me that the message was unable to be sent as the number was an error. He gave me the wrong number. Tracking down his twitter once I got home, I tweeted him several times but he never once replied to me. Since then, I have never given up trying to get his attention again, hoping that I would at least have another chance. But I did not, not yet.

 

That’s the harsh reality of life. It always had been too good to be true.

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