Love has a rule. There is only a certain amount of hearts one can carry in their own hands without causing any damage to any of them. And that number is one.
When Lara Dias meets her idol, little did she know that when she went home that day, she al...
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Lara's POV:
With my friends following my trail, I walk over to Shawn, and the boys greet each other.
"Should we head in since everyone is here?" Haz wonders.
I shake my head to him, "Not everyone yet, we have to wait for Z!"
"No, you don't, because I'm right here!"
I follow the voice and turn around, to find Zendaya standing tall in front of me at her near 1,80 meters. Her height and beauty always threw me off guard- I may be used to meeting celebrities and all these beautiful, talented people, but Zendaya managed to pull off this cool, fashionable aura, that made me feel like I had to rethink my own whole wardrobe. We immediately pull each other into a tight hug, smiles big on our faces.
An amazing friendship formed when the world pits us against each other.
After greeting Tom and Haz, I introduce, "Z, this is Shawn. Shawn, Zendaya!"
"I would be an idiot to not know who you are," Shawn immediately prompts. "I'm a big fan of your work!"
Zendaya smirks at me. "Ooh, I approve of your boyfriend already." Shawn and I laugh.
"Wait, boyfriend?" Haz inquires, surprised.
My smile turns into one of embarrassment. "Yeah..."
"Oh..." Tom lets out, and adds, "Nice!" He gives us a tight-lipped, awkward smile, and I inwardly chuckle. I could tell that he wanted to act happy for me, although the information of Shawn being my boyfriend made no difference in his life. And so, although he was a great actor, I could see right through him. I appreciated his attempt though.
We walked into the restaurant, the murmur of people chatting blended with clinking utensils filled the air. We are brought over to a large, circular booth, and we take our seats. Zendaya takes a place between Tom and me, while Shawn sits next to me and flanks us all, and Haz on the other side.
A waiter arrived with the menu, and he asks us if we want any drinks already.
"I vote we get champagne, we are here to celebrate, aren't we?" Tom suggests.
I cringe a little as I become a tad aware of the slight but considerably annoying headache. "I was thinking of stirring away from alcohol today, I drank too much wine yesterday..." I turn to Shawn, and we laugh.
"I agree," Shawn adds.
"You party poopers." Haz complains, and I roll my eyes. I turn to the waiter.
"I'll want a lemonade please," I ask, and he notes down the order.
Once he had noted down all of our drinks, it doesn't take long before he returns with them all. Tom, in his typical exaggerated grandeur, gets a little spoon and clacks lightly against his glass. He then clears his throat.
