Dandelion

"Oh come one, don't tell me that you don't think Nick Grimshaw is gorgeous."

I shook my head. "Rory, for the last time I don't think Nick Grimshaw is good looking."

She let out an exasperated sound as threw her hands up in the air. "Veronica Ryan, how can you say that?! He's British! And he's stylish! And he's flippin gorgeous!"

Without another word, I rolled my eyes and continued to wipe down the counters. Rory kept ranting and raving about how insane I was for not thinking the Nick Grimshaw was gods gift to the world. I had vowed to stay away from anything and everything that was related to Harry or the guys for that matter. My life was different now. It had changed.

"He's into guys, Rory," I finally spoke. She immediately stopped her babbling and stared at me. "No he's not."

I let out a small laugh. "Yes he is."

"No he's not. How would you know anyway?"

No one here knew anything about my past. They had no idea who my family was or who my friends were. All everybody here knew was that I came from a small town in Missouri because I needed to get away. Nothing more, nothing less. And that's all they were ever going to know. I wanted normal, non-famous friends and that's exactly what they were. In a town filled with movie stars and singers, I picked the most normal people to be friends with. I was normal, Veronica Ryan Slaughter and I had normal friends.

"Anyone with two eyes knows he's into guys," I replied.

She let out a huff. "Well I don't believe it. He's too hot to be gay."

"All the good looking guys are either taken or gay."



"Veve!"

I ignored the shouts and banging on the door, instead I rolled over and buried my head under the covers of my bed.

"Veve, wake up!" Still ignoring. "VERONICA, WAKE UP! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!" At the mention of the word emergency, I threw the covers off of me and jumped out of bed, practically sprinting to the front door of my apartment. As soon as I swung the door open, Rory and Faye pushed their way in while Silas strolled in with a bored look on his face as he chewed a piece of gum.

"What's wrong? What's the emergency? Are you guys okay? Did someone get hurt? Did someone die?" I rushed out.

"What? No. Shut up." Faye held up her phone. "WE JUST MET HARRY FUCKING STYLES AND GOT OUR PICTURE TAKEN WITH HIM!"

And right then. Right there. My world came crashing down. My new world that I created that didn't involve him or anything from my past; it all came crashing down around me. Harry was in Los Angeles. Harry was in California. Harry was in the same state as me. That meant the rest of them probably were too. Los Angeles may be a big place, but with five celebrities roaming around it turned into a small place.

"AND HE CALLED NICK GRIMSHAW AND WE GOT TO TELL HIM HI!" Rory screamed, looking as if she could faint any given second.

Silas chose this moment to speak up. "It was the most ridiculous thing to witness. I feel like my IQ dropped down to fifty."

I smirked, finding my out. Thank you Silas. "Not much different from what it normally is, yeah?" He glared at me, lifting his hand and flipping me the bird. "Name the time and place and I'll be there," I taunted, adding a wink at the end of my statement.

With a yawn, I turned my attention to the girls. "I can't believe you retards woke me up to tell me you got a picture with fucking Harry Styles. He's not that special." That pulled loud scoffs from both Rory and Faye.

"I don't know who you think we're talking about, but the list of reasons he's so special is practically never ending," Faye stated. Rory nodded, agreeing with her. "His eyes are a bright shade of green. His dimples are to die for. His hair can make a girl swoon with a single flip. And those tattoos. God, those tattoos."

That was the last straw. "Dear Jesus, enough! His eyes remind me of baby poop. His hair is a rats nest and his tattoos are stupid and pointless!"

Silas laughed from his spot on the couch, while Rory and Faye looked at me in shock. California was now my safe haven. I didn't want Harry in my safe haven. I didn't want to hear his name or speak his name or even see his name. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want anything to do with him. This was my new life. My new home. My new world. He didn't belong. And I knew as soon as him or one of the others found out I was living here, they'd find me and I'd once again be sucked into that life. That life was what drove people crazy. It caused some people to commit suicide or quit singing or quit acting. Others were made for that life. They could take all the hate and the comments concerning their weight or their complexion or their style. People posted that for the world to see, whereas I would much rather be judged in silence.

Anyone could judge me. Everyone had the right to their own opinion and if they didn't like the clothes I wore or how I cut my hair or how much or how little makeup I wore, that was okay, because that was their opinion. But if I had a fan or a gossip column writer or radio DJ blast me to the whole planet, it would break me. And I don't, no I know, I wouldn't be able to handle it again. So many fans and gossip column writers blasted me because I had blemishes, the clothes I wore, my tattoos, etc., and that broke me. It was why I ran away. I ran away from the old Veve and became a brand new, barely recognizable Veve.

"Well what if people think your hair is a rats nests and your tattoos are stupid and pointless?"

I shrugged. "That's their opinion," I replied. "Just like that was my opinion. You can like the dude all you want, even if he is a major douche, but I don't want to hear about him 24/7."

"Amen sista!" Silas shouted, throwing a fist up in the air. "Preach it!"























I shot my dad a quick text, asking him about flying Sadie out before I slipped on my running shoes. An early morning run on the beach as the sunrises was how I spent most of my mornings. It was relaxing and relieved stress I didn't even know I had.

Run through stress. Run through breakups. Run through loneliness. Run through depression. Run until you can't feel anymore.

And that's what I did. I ran through stress. I ran through breakups. I ran through loneliness. I ran through depression. I ran until I couldn't feel anymore. And I fear if I quit running, everything will come rushing back.