Fame ***

I hated myself.

For a variety of reasons, really. I hated that I was sitting in my apartment, alone, watching Desperate Housewives and wishing that I could call up Niall and ask him to come over so I could kiss him.

I was no stranger to kissing. If I was completely honest, I was no stranger to sex, really. But there was something about Niall’s innocence and sweetness that was entirely new, and I wanted nothing more than to experience it over and over. The fact that he lived so far away was crushing to me, and I wished that I wasn’t tempted to use my status to take a plane and move there. Like down the street from him, where we’d never have to be separated.

But even more than missing Niall, I hated myself because I was letting myself get attached to him. I had to remain objective about the situation. When our relationship fell apart and the lie was released that he cheated on me without a care in the world of my feelings, I didn’t want to feel any guilt about it. I wanted to bask in the glory that would surround me, the buzz about me that would be on every celebrity gossip show and in all the tabloids. I wanted to be able to go on talk shows and pretend that he’d bruised my soul with his asshole ways and grin when I went offstage because I knew I gave a flawless performance.

Instead, whenever I thought about how our relationship was inevitable to end, I felt a pang. It was weird, since I didn’t even think I had a conscience, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything I could do to stop the process just then. The plan had already gone into action, and I was doing everything perfectly.

My phone buzzed next to me, and I reluctantly drew my attention away from my thoughts and scooped it up. My eyebrows drew together in confusion when I saw that I had a new message from Jessie, but when I opened the message, I immediately understood.

Omg ur going out with niall congradulations!

I took a deep breath and tried not to throw my phone out the window as I answered, Yeah, thanks! He’s a real sweetheart. I’m so sad he went back to England.

Aw im sorry babe do you want to hang out or something we could get completely drunk and forget all about him leaving you

How would alcohol solve my problems? And hanging out with her would do nothing but make me more irritated and upset. So I declined as politely as possible, saying that I just wanted to be alone in my pajamas, which was partially true, and then I turned off my phone so I didn’t have to talk to anyone else. Because of the time difference, I knew that Niall was already asleep, so there was no way he’d attempt to contact me.

Curling up against the arm of the sofa, I turned up the volume on the television and let myself get fixated on the drama unfolding in front of me.



“Niall mentioned you in an interview!” Heather screeched in my ear excitedly, her energy flowing through the phone. “He was on a popular British talk show, and he mentioned how hard it was for him to leave you back in the States, but he couldn’t take you with him because you were working on a movie.”

I had already known because the One Direction page sent out an e-mail with the YouTube video attached, but I pretended I didn’t. “That’s wonderful,” I responded, my tone not at all matching my words.

“What, this doesn’t make you excited? Our plan is working.”

I let out an inaudible sigh before forcing some happiness into my voice. “Of course I’m excited that it’s working. It just sucks that we have to use somebody and play with their emotions in order to get what we want.”

There was a long pause where Heather was definitely trying to figure out who, exactly, I was and what’d I’d done to her evil, scheming, conniving Lilah Monroe. “Since when do you care about playing with people’s emotions?” my agent asked point-blank. “You’re usually the first one to use people to get what you want.”

Well. Okay. While true, that was also kind of blunt. “Maybe I’m having an epiphany,” I defended. “Maybe not an epiphany, since I don’t feel like a changed person, but I’m just saying.”

“Whatever,” she dismissed, not willing to discuss the subject any further. “So you’re going to tape Ellen tomorrow and talk about your upcoming movie deal, and she’s definitely going to ask you about Niall. Just pretend…”

“That I’m cute and shy and I feel embarrassed talking about it,” I finished from memory. “I know. It’s what I do every time.”

“Just making sure. Look, I have other things to do, but I’ll talk to you later.”

Without saying any form of goodbye, still irritated that she called me, in essence, a heartless bitch, I hung up the phone and threw it away from me. Instead of landing on the coffee table as I’d intended, it missed narrowly, sliding on the carpet.

Groaning and leaving it there, I threw my head back and closed my eyes. I felt really strange about the whole situation. Impending stardom and publicity had always made me excited, made my skin glow like I was pregnant (kind of), but I just felt conflicted.

I hated it. I missed being a celebrity who could do whatever I wanted without a bit of regret. I wanted to be able to use people without discretion, to make out with them and mess up their hair, only to set them loose on the world and start rumors that I was connected to them.

But no. I had to be like the fucking Grinch at the end of that exceedingly annoying movie, where my heart grew three sizes or whatever. I didn’t want a heart. Well, a metaphorical heart, anyway. The literal heart was kind of important.

I glanced at the clock and saw that I had only an hour and a half before I had my script read-through with the rest of the cast from the movie. It would be a long process that wouldn’t be much fun, but deciding last minute not to go when I wasn’t sick was not an option. Especially considering I was the main character in the entire movie, so they would have to skip a lot of lines if I failed to show up.

As I got ready, I got more excited for the read-through. It would be a way to get my mind off Niall for a little while, and I could call him when I got out. The thought made me smile a little bit, and I hoped that I could go through with it. I couldn’t allow myself to get so dependent on Niall, especially after only a couple of dates, and my life had to go on without him.

So I dolled myself up and sent him a message as I was walking out the door that I’d call him later. I want to make sure you don’t forget about me. ;)

I wouldn’t but I can’t wait to hear from you. :)