Rosalie

To say that Freddie completed me wouldn't be very far off from the truth.
It seems ridiculous.
I had everything I could possibly want.
Money, a loving family, some pathetic fame.. but none of it mattered to me because I had always felt that there was something missing, an intrinsic part of my life I had never really approached.
I met him and I knew it, on instinct, I knew it. He smiled and everything became clear and shiny like a new diamond. The tarnished Rosalie was gone and here was the new pure white one! Limited edition.
Everything was turned upside down and inside out and filled in with some bright happy flowery colours that dazzled everyone. But it was okay because I could breathe a sigh of relief. I finally knew what was missing. And it sounds corny, but it was true.
It was, it was, it was, itwas, itwasitwasitwas... Young love.

' Mrs Rosalie McClair -insert love hearts heeere- '

I am Rosalie Fucking Hale, heiress and 'it girl', twin of the charmingly handsome Jasper, daughter of the dashing couple, Robert and Eleanor, cousin to Emmett, Prince of Wales, and most importantly, only granddaughter to the oh-so-lovely Queen Alexandra and King William of England.
Therefore, I am fourth in line to the British crown, a heavy golden thing topped with some gems and fur that my brother and I do not want forced down upon our heads.

The main reason why we despise the status of Royalty is because everyone else does.
The throne means so little these days. The public hate the Royal Family. I probably would too if I wasn't in it.
Jasper and I are seen more as A-grade celebrities, our names mingling with 'Brad Pitt' and 'Cameron Diaz,' people we've seen, but never actually met. But just like them, we too have every slip up plastered all over Heat.
Headers like 'WTF was she thinking!?' feature commonly next to pictures of me looking dorky at some movie premiere.
Even people in small places like New Zealand keep an eye on what I’m wearing.
It’s to the extent that sometimes, when I’m shopping in, say, somewhere simple like Top Shop. They pop up in Now and I'm left looking at the photos thinking, "Fuck I'm a dick,' while twelve year old girls are rocking the skull pattern scarf I picked up for a laugh commenting on how ugly it is.

There’s even a bloody Rosalie haircut, which is just long layers and wavy hair. Its long because I hate having my haircut and its wavy because I’m too lazy to straighten it.
But no, hairdressers state this hairstyle says this about me, 'she's so bohemian,' etc, etc.

I can’t go to McDonalds for breakfast without it being said in OK that I’m fattening up – 'why?! Is Rosalie pregnant and trying to hide it from her powerful grandmother?'
No fools, I’m hungry. And besides, I’m a flipping virgin because those paparazzi nuts scare off any decent, normal boy who thinks I might be half worth their time. And anyway, my grandma is NOT powerful! She's just the Queen..

And it does indeed sound like I'm living up to my 'spoilt rich girl' persona, but honestly, I'm just a bitch who hates the media.