My name is Roseanne Martinez,but most people refer to me as Rose or Rosie. I was in love. Actually I still am. He never loved me back though. He was just another popstar,that likes to crush hearts. I should have seen through his perfect reputation. No one ever threw him hate. Even if he broke their hearts,they just pretended it was their fault. I don’t think I can do that. No,I won’t, I cannot! I will make a mess of his facade,I will make a mockery of him! He will not win this game. He picked the wrong player to knock down,now he WILL pay the price. I just wonder how long he will try to stay on top. I will be on top in the end. Or will I? Read on and find out!
A/N: This is sucky,sorry. I personally think the story is actually better. Please read it,it would mean a lot to me!


15. A Barrage Of Memories

A/N: Sorry that some of these chapters are so short, please bear with me.

  My mind was reeling with the information that Louis had just overloaded me with. The boys had not moved from where they sat when I had mechanically walked into the room.

  "Are you okay?" Zayn asked, waving a hand in front of my face.

  I nodded, eyes distant and glazed over; blank and vacant as I tried to process what Louis had told me. I could just barely focus, let alone force my mind to catch up with my body and reality.

  "I do not think you are." Liam agreed, probing my forehead for the non-existent fever.

  I pulled away, voice monotone and lifeless as I spoke. "I, uh, I am going to go home and get some rest."

  The boys all nodded in sullen agreement. Zayn speaking up. "Do you need a ride, love?" 

  I shook my head, replying instantly. "I was just going to take a cab."

  Zayn shook his head automatically. "No, I will drive you home." He said, still clearly concerned about me. He grabbed my wrist gently, but with slight pressure as he led me outside and to his car.

  Once buckled and ready to go Zayn turned the radio on to a moderate volume and started the drive to my flat. I barely even listened to the radio as the scenery of rainy London flew past the windows. My ears instantly perking up when I heard the familiar tune of "Truly, Madly, Deeply" by the boys. I listened intently as Louis' solo came on, a few stray tears falling. I bobbed my head slightly to the tune and the melody brought back a barrage of memories that I let past my carefully built blockade.


    Louis and I had been sneaking around and seeing each other. The thrill had been exhilarating at first, but now the rush is all just a distant memory and it is all danger, barely any fun any more. Louis had been getting edgier and edgier as the days flew by. He seemed reluctant to hang out with me anymore. I hope he won't ask him to stay away from him, I can't do that.

                                                      ~Weeks Later~

 I haven't seen Lou for weeks now, he blames it all on work, but I am not daft. It is clearly just an excuse. Today, he called and said he wanted to see me.. At the studio. I am worried as I drive to the studio down the familiar road smooth and calm. As I climb from the safety of the cab of my car a burly man grabbed my arm. 

 "Name's Paul, you are Rosie?" The second I nod he starts to drag me roughly down the halls of the studio, but it was not painful. "We are going to see Louis," He grunts gruffly.

  When we walked into the dressing room marked: "ONE DIRECTION" I spotted Louis and the boys waiting uncomfortably. 

                                            ~After A Few Hours~

  Louis had settled everything, even with management. That part was quite a struggle, but he did it. I was not to be seen with Louis or the boys or to let the paps know I was dating Louis or that I even existed, but we could still date, thankfully.

 Sounds easy enough, but of course I have no idea how long I, or Louis and the boys, can keep it up before one of us evidently break.


    Louis and I were sitting in my bed room talking happily, when suddenly our conversation took an unexpected turn, a very serious one. 

   "Baby, I want to tell them, please? It is not fair, come on, please?" Louis asked, sweetly, batting his long lashes. 

  I sigh thinking of management and what they would do, but Louis' begging persisted, "Pleeeeasseeeeeeeee????????" He starts pepper my neck in sloppy, wet, hot kisses, knowing my weaknesses. 

    He knew he was "This" close to getting his way and sucked my collarbone lightly, damn him. I look up at his puppy eyes and feel his tongue probing the tender skin and he pulls away slowly to set his red lips in a firm pout. Groaning, I nod in agreement. He grins and chants and cheers, kissing my lips hard in celebration, hard enough to knock me over, laying on top of me as i giggled into the passionate kiss.



  "You know, in the World Wars Great Britain and the U.S. were quite close?" I asked Louis as we walked down, through the lobby.

  He nodded. "Yeah, I do know that."

  "I guess I am a representative from the U.S." I smiled.

   "Then I am a representative from the U.K." He replies, smiling just as wide.

  "They say we should not get attached..." I reminded him.

  "Who cares what they say?" He prodded, knowing what I would say,

  "Forget them." I said firmly, just as he had instructed me do. I could not get hurt if I did not care.

  "Let us win this war then!" He yelled, grinning madly at his historical metaphor.

  "Let us!" I agreed loudly, grinning at him.

  We then stepped out into the warm, translucent sunlight. As they, the paps and the fans, mobbed us we held onto each other as if we would die if we let go. Which may actually be the case.

  We stood in the middle of all the chaos, Louis holding me fast to his muscular chest. I kept my arms wrapped around his waist, just above his bum, and his arms were wrapped around me, hands resting on the small of my back. His puff pink lips curled into the familiar smirk, his eyes held a glint of mischief in the sparkling sun.

  I stretched up on my tip toes, the moment prolonged, as the space between us diminished. He leaned down to make it easier for me to kiss him, the cheeky smile still adorning his face. Our lips met and melded, all the clicks, screams and shouted questions drowned out by our hearts beating as one.

  As we did the accustomed passionate kiss my hands tangled in his messy, unstyled hair, a smile creeping onto my lips as we continue kissing. 

  When we reluctantly pulled away my ears were flooded with frenzied shouts of questions. We ignored them and climbed into Louis' car, our hands never parting. Intertwined like branches on a tree or twigs caught on a vine, as Louis had once worded it. 

  I did not glance back as we drove. Right now all our worries were far behind us. We would deal with the backlash later.




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