Mr. Player And I

Chapter One: That, My Friends, Is Sean.

"And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways."

- Ed Sheeran, Thinking Out Loud.

~*~

Chapter One: "That, My Friends, Is Sean."

I BELIEVE THAT each of us deserve a chance at love.

I'm aware it sounds puerile that there’s someone out there for everyone, but I have faith in love.

Now I know some say there’s no such thing as true love, that it all ends in heartbreak and pain, but I think that’s the beauty of it. To have something so perfect for such a short while, and then for it to disappear into nothing.

It’s an endless loop, never ending, always on the move. You never know where it will take you.

That's the thing about love, it's so beautiful, mysterious, and almost magical.

I believe we all deserve a chance at love, because we all deserve something magical.

And for me, my magic started when I bumped into someone in the school hallways, causing me to drop all the things I was holding in my hands, though at the time I was completely oblivious to it.

~*~

I woke up to the alarm blaring up on my phone.

Ugh.

I reached for my phone to hear it fall down from the bedside table.

Seriously?

I got up and checked my social media. 21st Century, am I right?

I was going through my Instagram, when a text popped up on the screen.

Jeremy ❤:
Morning, babe ;)
I'll pick up you up at 7:30 as usual.

Me:
Okay, cya then.

I smiled. That is Jeremy Pieters, my boyfriend of 7 months.

He and I met 2 years ago, and we started talking through text.

He eventually told me he liked me and asked me out. I had feelings for him too, so I said yes.

I got up, sighing, and went to the bathroom to take a shower and to do my everyday morning routine.

20 minutes later, I was standing in front of my closet, trying to pick what to wear.

I decided to go with high waisted black jeans and a white tank top. Since it was slightly chilly outside, I went ahead and threw on a powder blue sweater.

I let my wavy brown hair tumble down my shoulders. I inspected my reflection in the mirror.

Feeling satisfied, I went down to see my father sitting at the dining table, reading the day's newspaper, and my sister, Sarah, busy munching on her toast.

"Morning, Dad." I kissed his cheek.

"Morning, Ellie."

"Breakfast, dear?" my mom asked coming out of the kitchen.

"No, Mom, I'm good. Thanks."

She nodded.

All of a sudden, my sister gasped, a little too dramatically.

"Whoa," I heard my sister say, "You good, El? You don't wanna have breakfast?"

I flashed her a grin. "Jeremy and I will hit up Starbucks. Don't worry."