Becoming a Tomlinson

Chap 1

Dear Mum,  

I'm coming home. I can't bear to see you and dad like this. Maybe Louis will help me get you two back together. I know you still love dad deeply. I can tell.  

All my love, 

Your daughter, Leigh-Anne :D

I smiled, licking the envelope, and pressing it down. My first letter to my Mum. I miss her so much it's not even funny. I hate America with all my heart. So many not nice people, shoving you and crimes everywhere. Of course we have all this in England, but not as much as America does. I mean, I have to put an alarm necklace or something on me everywhere I go or else guys will come right up to me and ogle me. It was NOT like this back home. Of course, I ALWAYS had my friend Louis Tomlinson hooked to my hip. We were, are, best friends. Everywhere I went, Louis was, vise versa. We loved each other, ew, not like that, but like siblings. We would see guys stare at me, but Louis would grab my hand subtly, whispering a retarded joke in my ear, making me laugh. That's how we kept the guys off our big, and luscious bums(; . I love Lou is, he is such an amazayn friend. I can't wait till I get on this plane to Doncaster in three days. I'm basically done with college. Plus, I FINALLY get to meet the other four gorgeous lads in Louis' band, One Direction. I mean, who could think those boys, even Louis, are ugly? They are all like hot, British, except Niall, he is Irish. They are absolutely cute, gentlemen, well Louis is, I don't know about the other four, they seem to be gentlemen. I sighed, kicking my flip-flops off, pulling my shorter shorts and spaghetti strap top on, crawling into bed. I closed my eyes, starting to fall asleep.

BRING!

BRING!

BRING!

Who in this world is calling me at one in the morning?! I thought.

I groaned, rolling over and grabbed my phone off the bedside table. I hit the "answer" button without thinking, seeing as I was half asleep.

"What?" I snapped.

"S'cuse me, Miss. Tomlinson, your brother has been in an accident and I was told to call his first contact on his phone." A kind woman's voice said. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, first, my last name isn't Tomlinson, second, it's Miller, and third, I know it's you, Harry or Louis. Just tell me what prank you're trying to pull now?" I asked, very aggravated. The voice cleared their throat.

"I'm sorry if you mistook me for someone else, Miss. Miller. But your brother Louis Tomlinson has been in an accident. His curly haired friend told me to call his first speed dial because it was his sister. Aren't I correct?" The voice said.

"Yes, okay. You are correct. Forgive me. Tell Louis' curly haired friend I'll be there as soon as I can get a flight to London." I said hanging up. It is now 1:15 a.m. When I was booking my flight for three days ahead, I saw a three o'clock a.m. for this morning. I was panicking as I jumped up, grabbing my suitcases from under my bed and packing everything I owned into them.

Oh dear, what's wrong with my Louis?!

Well, he's not technically MY Louis, we're just super good friends. We've always been with each other. ALWAYS. ALWAYS. ALWAYS.

What is wrong with my Lou-Lou? I burst into tears as I packed, hoping Louis was not in a fatal condition. I just hoped. And prayed.