Valerie Scott and Harry Styles are forced by the Modest! Management to live together and pretend that they're in a relationship. But there's one big problem. Valerie and Harry are like oil and water; frilly dress and sweatpants; cat and mouse; Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez; Rhianna and Amanda Bynes; Drake Bell and Justin Bieber; The Wanted and their songs.

Bottom line, they don't click together.

They can't stand each other for seconds. How much more when they have to live together for years? But what if love and acceptance take over, will they last forever?

Only one way to find out...

(WARNING: Contains scenes not suitable for individuals 13 years and below. So please, don't read if you're from that age range. I don't want to be responsible for brain-poisoning. LOL)


5. The Remedy Causing Delimma


My alarm clock starts buzzing at exactly 7:00 AM, I assume as I was the one who set it last night. Despite the urge of falling back to sleep, I get up from the bed with eyes still closed as though I am sleepwalking. I got a photo shoot at 10 for a magazine today so I have to get ready as early as possible to make a good impression with the clients.

I don’t know what I did last night that my energy is drained for today. With my eyes slightly open, I walk groggily towards the mirror and close my eyes again when Careless Whisper started playing in my head.

I’m never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend,
I know you're not a fool

Should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I've been given

So I’m never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you, oh, oh __

The rhythm of the song keeps playing in my head as I got easily swept by it. I raise my hands to the air and sway them. I swing my hips from side to side along with my head while my feet are dramatically tapping on the floor. I get so lost to the music and I am oblivious to my environment.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that.” A raspy voice pipes up from behind me.

My eyes shut open quickly, and I see Harry standing by the doorway through the reflection of the mirror. I immediately entwined my arms upon my chest and insert both hands in my armpits to cover my seemingly obvious bumps since I only wore a thin sheet of tank top last night.

I turn to face him and slur, “How many times have I told you about knocking, you moron?” I grimace.

“I did. You just didn’t hear it. I have to use the bathroom.” He smirks.

My face relaxes in his explanation and say, “Okay. Let me brush my teeth first.”

“Alright.” He says while plopping himself down on the bed and sigh, “Ahh! I miss this bed.” He gibes.

I just continue walking to the bathroom and ignore his words. He’s perhaps making me realize to let him sleep on the bed already. That’s not going to happen. I can’t sleep with lights off and neither trading places with him would make it any better. I’m never going to sleep on a couch. Never!

I remove the pink bathrobe from the hook and dab it on. I ski to the sink and take my toothbrush, open the faucet and fill the glass with water, put an enough amount of toothpaste on the brush and started brushing.

After my moments inside the bathroom, I step out and spot Harry sitting on one side of the bed just done sliding back in the drawer. I think he just returned something inside when he sensed me coming out.

My brows narrow and ask him suspiciously, “What were you doing?”

“Na-nothing.” He mumbles.

“Are you sure?” I raise my right eyebrow.

“Yes. Are you done? I’ll use the bathroom now.” He gibbers.

He quickly stands up, ruffle his curls and walk past me and into the bathroom. I trail my look to him as he enters the bathroom, unsure but I shrug off.

I tip-toed to the drawer, intending to investigate. I carefully and nervously hold the knob inconspicuously. What is he keeping here? Does he have a gun? Maybe.Drugs? I guess. Oh no! why would he take drugs? But what if he does? There’s only one way to find out- Open this …

BOOKS! He reads books?

That’s a shocker. I sigh in relief and close the drawer. As interesting as they may seem, I don’t have the time to read a single page of book right now.

I immediately enter the walk-in closet and look for something to wear in going to the shoot. It took minutes before I could finally decide to wear a white long-sleeve with shoulder paddings and a black jeggings. I get out of the closet and lay the pair of clothing on the bed carefully not to cause unnecessary folds on them. Harry then finally gets out of the bathroom quietly while drying his hair with a towel.

I press my lips together, trying not to be suspicious and scamper inside the bathroom to hit the showers,  to avoid Harry’s questions.





I manage my time like this: if I have an appointment at 10:00 AM, I have to wake up like three hours earlier because I spend almost an hour in the shower, 30 minutes blow-drying my thick, wavy brunette hair, 15 minutes on fixing it, another 15 minutes on make-up, 10 minutes on deciding what to wear, 20 minutes on looking at myself on the mirror. The remaining time would be me rushing my breakfast. Like today! I even often skip it just to get to the location on time.

I run out of the room with the sound of the heels of my shoes clanking on every step. I rush to the kitchen where I found Harry sitting on one bar stool by the counter, eating his cereals. I grab two slices of bread and lay them on a plate separately. I spread catsup on either slices and sandwich them together. I shove big bites of the sandwich in my mouth and swallow all at once.

Harry pauses and drops the spoon in his bowl of cereals and started peering at me.

I scamper to the fridge and take a pitcher of juice out and place it on top of the counter. I quickly take out one glass from the cupboard, fill it with juice and I drank the whole thing. I quickly put the glass and the plate on the sink and run out of the kitchen.

“Be home by five!” I yell to Harry.

“Kay!” He yells back.





I get back to the flat, feeling really exhausted. Imagine pulling off different poses, having 30 frames in eight outfit changes. Who says modelling is easy? It may seem to be a fun and fabulous job but it’s freaking tedious. Though you feel really burdened deep down inside, you still have to pose, smize and tootch for the camera. Sigh!

As soon as I get in, I remove immediately my black leather killer heels. My feet are aching and crying out to breathe. I walk in to the lounge and see Harry watching the TV, seated comfortably on his bed. I mean the couch. I immediately plop down like a dead vegetable on a couch adjacent to him and exhale deeply. I rest my feet on the table, drop my bag on the floor and sniffle.

Harry checks his watch and trails his look to me, “It’s quarter to six.” He hisses.

“I know. And?” I say with a tedious voice.

“Nothing.” He rolls his eyes and drags his sight back to the TV.

May I say that Harry’s a bit strict when it comes to time? He doesn’t like tardy people like me. I intend to annoy him. I know I’ll be home by six but I told him I’ll be home by five. He’s annoyed, I can tell.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” I blurted while pulling my feet off the table and get the bag. I open the zip and flip through my stuffs inside. I pull out a violet linen eye cover and stretch my hands towards Harry. “Here.” I say, offering to him the little thingy.

He narrows his brows in curiosity and asks, “What’s this?”

“Eye cover, you dummy.” I huff. “Come on, take it.” I wave the eye cover at him.

He takes the eye cover and peer at it, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“We’re going to play piñata and you’re the batter.” I state sarcastically.

“Thanks.” He mutters.

“Ofcourse not. You’re going to use that when you sleep.” I retorted and continue, “I got it from the shoot today.”

His eyes grow big and he grumbles, “Dah-does this mean …?”

“Yes!” I retorted.

“Finally.” He sighs in relief and reclines to the couch.

Sleeping in a bed with him wouldn’t be that bad as long as our skins won’t come in contact. I pity him already. It’s been three weeks and I know he’s not comfortable on the couch. I caught him several times complaining back and shoulder pains. Yes, I could be so stubborn at times but I could get sympathetic most of the time.

I stand up and walk over to get changed but then I pause at the side of Harry and face down to him.

“By the way, did you stay home all day?” I ask. “… Not that I’m concerned or anything. I’m just wondering.” I gibber.

“Uhm… I came over to Louis and Niall’s. Why?” He answers.

“Ahh …” I nodded, “Nothing. Just asking.” I curl my lips and continue walking to the bedroom.





I’ve been yawning for several times already while washing the dishes. The clanking of the plates and pots kept me awake all this time. I can’t wait to lie in the soft, cosy bed already. After drying all of them, I return the dishes inside the cupboard and cabinets.

“I’m really tired.” I yawn as I walk groggily to the bedroom. I stop by the door and yawn as I open the knob.

As expected, Harry is already at the bed, sleeping heavily and wearing the eye cover I gave him. He left the lampshade on my side open. How thoughtful!

I kneel on the bed for split seconds while trying to place a pillow carefully under the blanket, in between us. It will serve as a boundary to avoid us on coming in contact. I then lay down, start stretching my arms and yawn again for the last time. I pull up the blanket to my chest and turn sideways, my back against the side of Harry. I flutter close my eyes and let unconsciousness take over me.


Minutes later…


I feel the heavy blanket alights on top of my body and the cool air brushing through my skin, causing me to havegoosebumps. I open my eyes immediately and turn to Harry. Argh! He’s rolled his body in the blanket and now I’m all out of sheets to cover me. I try to pull it back up but his weight almost makes it impossible for me. How am I supposed to sleep now?

I sit up and lean my back to the headboard.

“Harry?” I call out timidly while slightly wobbling his shoulder.

“Harry, wake up.” I whisper, murmur and incessantly wobble his shoulder.

He just groaned and slowly turned over his face on his pillow.

Oh shit! I curse under my breath. I clutch my knees to my chest and hide my face on top of it.

“Oh brother.” I murmur and hit my head upon my knees repeatedly.




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