Prologue

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              "Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within."

"To fake it is to stand guard over emptiness."

             (four years later)

                    "Come on, you're going to be late!" My mother calls from downstairs.

"I'm up!" I yell back down to her. Today I've decided to wear black jeans, a white tee, and black converse. My hair is neatly curled and I put only mascara on. I grab my purse, with everything in it, and walk down the stairs. I grab a water bottle from the fridge as my mum says: "All the flowers are in your car already. Today all the roses are a dollar each." I nod my head and kiss her cheek. I open the door and walk toward to my car. My nose is filled with the smell of flowers as I open my car door. I roll my eyes as I slide in and drive out of my driveway.







                    AN HOUR AND TWENTY MINUTES LATER I'm all set up for the day. I stand back and admire my work. The very small table has a pink tablecloth, the three huge buckets full of 200 roses surround it, and signs everywhere around the airport. I smile once more and stand behind my table. Then I frown when I realize how exhausted I am. It's eight in the morning and I'm standing in the middle of an airport. I live fifty minutes away from the station but my mother still makes me drive here every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. I never really sell that much flowers so I don't understand why she makes me come here. It's just a stupid side business my mum likes to make me do. I sigh and just look around the station and get ready for the day.

A half hour in ten people brought a flower each, 190 to go, I sigh as I watch people. I've seen more kisses, hugs, goodbyes, hellos, and fights then I've wanted to. I'm about to call my mum to tell her business isn't working today when a young boy walks up to me. "How much is a flower?" His voice is small; he must be at least eleven, as he smiles at me. He looks familiar but I can't place his face at the moment.

"Dollar each." I smile back at him.

"How many do you have?" He asks.

"190." I scoff with a small laugh.

"Did you sell any?" He asks.

"Yes." I say.

"How many?"

"200...why?" I ask, confused.

"Okay." He says and walks away. I stand there, mouth open as he walks away from me. I didn't even see where he went since I looked down at the list to make sure I was right, I was. I turn behind me, then to the right of me, finally the left. But he is nowhere in sight. Then all of a sudden I see the small boy coming back.

"Here you go." He smiles as he hands me a huge wad of crash but I can't move. I just stare at the boy, mouth open wide, as he sets the money down on the table. "You can keep all the flowers but twelve." He smiles as he takes twelve flowers. My eyes are on the dollar bills as no words come out of my mouth. But then I snap out of it once the small boy starts to walk away.

"Wait!" I scream as I take the money off the table and grab my purse. "I can't take this."

"Why not?" He asks, beautiful blue eyes staring into my brown ones, as he pouts out his lips.

"This is 190 dollars." I blink.

"Actually there is 200 dollars there, at least that's what he said. He told me I'm not allowed to take the money back." The young boy shrugs as he walks away then he says:"Oh and he told me to say your welcome." He starts to walk away again then gasps. "I wasn't supposed to say that." The young boy starts to walk away even faster.

"He? He who?" I ask.

"He? I didn't say a he. It's all my money?" The last sentence came out as a question.

"Where does a eleven year old come up with 200 dollars?" I stare at him with a look.

"I'm actually twelve." He rolls his eyes and my heart drops. The boys eyes look just like his. Last time I saw Ben he was eight.

"Still doesn't answer my question." I say.

He looks around before whispering in my ear: "My older brother. He said I can't point him out or else he'll tell our mummy I was a bad boy." He nods, his eyes darting everywhere but the left of me. I turn around and see a hooded figure of an older boy. I feel like my heart stops for a second. All I can see is that he's wearing black jeans, black jacket, and black boots. The mystery guy is dressed just like he always dressed. I can't see his face but the color of his hair is blonde. My heart flutters. I turn back around to see that the little boy is gone and I spin all over the place. No, the mystery boy has to be him. When I turn around to where the boy was standing, he's gone. I swear as tears want to fall but I won't let them. I mean I am standing in the middle of the airport. I'm about to walk away as someone wraps their arms around me. I feel like I should scream but I don't. I know I've felt these arms around me before, I could never forget his touch. I turn around with tears in my eyes as I stare into familiar blue eyes that I've missed so much. His blue eyes are lighter then they were but maybe that's because his right eye is black and blue just like it was the first time I met him. I touch his bruised cheek, then he's cracked lips, and finally poke his poke-able nose. I want to open my mouth and say something but I'm speechless. I can't even fandom that his arms are wrapped around me. I never thought that I would feel his touch on my skin again. Without my knowledge a tears fall out of my eyes and he wipes them off my cheeks.

"You're to beautiful to cry." Luke says to me again and I swear my knees unbuckle underneath of me. Those were he's last words to me before the cops took him away from me. I can't help but break down and cry even harder. My heart is overwhelmed with feelings that I can't fandom.I throw my arms around his neck, sobbing. Now that I'm back in his arms, I've realized that  somefeelings sink so deep into the heart that only loneliness can help you findthem again. Because that's what I was without him; lonely. I knew I was. But I never realized how lonely I was. 

"Are you ever going to leave me again?" I ask, tears still falling down my cheeks. 

"What do you think?" He asks as he picks up, spins me, then leans in as Luke kisses me.

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Theme song of this entire book: Cry Baby

Artist: The Neighborhood

i might change a few things later.

anyway, this book is about the past not the present. so, when it's italicized it's in the present and when it's normal text it's the past. PLEASE remember that!!!

oh and i might change the cover because i don't think i like it.

but that is all for now, enjoy <3




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