Jane Mattingson is contended with her life. She was living in an extravagant mansion with her loving father and annoying but secretly doting brother where reality seems more of an illusion. She couldn't ask for anything more. Or so she thought. As a...
just a heads up for those who are going to read - i am writing because i want to write and i want to share my own stories to the world. i do not write because i want to impress people so do not expect very nicely written and detailed chapters because i am too lazy to edit and i have another account here - which is solely for fanfictions - and i mostly focus there. my fanfictions are extremely better written than my original ones. this is - of course - not professionally written.
now that we got that out of the way, enjoy this crappy chapter and enjoy this crappy story
please excuse any grammatical errors. i do not do proofread.
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LILY COLLINS AS JANE MATTINGSON
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JANE MATTINGSON
Before his nimble fingers could run through my locks of unruly auburn hair, I instinctively swatted his hand away and shot him what I hoped would be considered a menacing glower. "I swear to every single living gods, Conrad Mattingson, I will fucking kill you where you sit if you try to touch my hair again."
My threat was clearly an empty one seeing that murder is frowned upon by most nations and this infuriating - endlessly annoying - male nestled on the cushioned seat beaide me was - unfortunately - my older brother.
Conrad recoiled from my assault and rubbed his harmed hand, brows knitted together and lips pouting in a child like manner. In my point of view, he resembled a grumpy five year old child who had just been told he couldn't have any desserts without partaking his vegetables. "Well, if you didn't look like a fucking mess, I wouldn't even be trying to fix your goddamn hair." He quipped and judgingly observed my mop of hair. "You're going to be on TV looking like that?"
"Looking like what, exactly?" In all honesty, I didn't have to inquire to understand where all his whinning is originating from. I knew I looked like an absolute mess, especially for someone who will be shown on screen - tangled auburn strands, halfhearted applied makeup, slouched figure, evident signs of sleep deprivation. The only reason I did so was to rile him up and so far, I was doing a pretty decent job.
"Looking like you straight out came from Monster Incorporation." He hissed in absolute disdain that I had to bite my tongue to restrain myself from attracting the media nor the guests behind our table.
