He was a billionaire, I was a bellboy, can I make it anymore obvious? It all started one fateful afternoon in summer of 2012. I was working as a bellboy at the Trump Hotel in Hong Kong on an internship program. This was my first time in a big city. It was all I could have ever dreamed of, and more. But little did I know, it was all about to change. Follow me on twitter.com/aguywithnolife Please note, this story may contain mature humor that isn't suitable for all ages.

[Sequel to The Hustler] When her boyfriend, Alex Gaskarth, proposed to her after being together five years, Airlia Thorne could not have been more excited. Suddenly, all her downtime disappears into a whirlwind of champagne, self-written vows, and calligraphy invitations. But she can handle it. She's sure she can. That is, until a visit from her past and the revelation of a secret half a decade old send her running from everyone, even the man who loves her the most.

Addeline begins to get irritated with her life. Its always the same thing, every day. Get up, go to work, come home, walk her dog, and go to sleep. Then do it all again the next day. But when an old friend comes back into her life, bringing the best form of chaos, she might just find herself falling in love, or maybe she's just falling apart.

Plot Twist! Maddy Allbourne is a guitarist in a punk band with four other guys. A band known as All Time Low. Her and Jack are probably the most affectionate set of friends you will ever come across. Even though neither will admit, they're both obviously wanting more than a friendship. But will they ever confess their attraction towards one another? ~COMPLETED~ SEQUEL FINALLY UP!!!

For a fostered kid, Isabel has had a pretty good life. Never had anything to complain about, she loved her foster family in Baltimore and all her friends in it. Trying to make friends with her best friend Jack's new friend Alex, she thinks she's falling for him. All she ever wanted was for things to work out for the best, but was Alex the best choice? Alex Gaskarth fanfic, sorry if it sucks! The months/years at the top aren't really important, it's really just for me to remind me when I'm writing because I'm kind of ditsy. May be confusing though if you don't check once and a while :) All lyrics, song titles are not owned by me. Cover is owned by @xPollymuse ♥ And of course, it is all fictional, enjoy! :)

26 year old Lyla James is living in Los Angeles pursuing her dream of being a photographer. She gets the chance of a lifetime when her best friend, Austin Carlile of the band Of Mice and Men, asks her to photograph the band on Warped Tour. She is having the time of her life when she runs into the last person she ever wanted to see again: Vic Fuentes. How will she react when she is face to face again with the love of her life who broke her heart so many years ago? Will she learn to forgive? Will she get another chance at Happily Ever After with Vic? Or has too much damage been done to her fragile heart?

(Sequel to I'm A Walking Travesty) Valarie and Jack's lives have been changed forever. One is paralysed, and the other is left fighting for their life. But both are determined to live through all the pain they have suffered, even though the odds are against them. And with the potential pitter patter of small feet on the way, will they ever fully recover from the world that is crumbling beneath them, or will their relationship never be quite the same again?

Alex Gaskarth was a hot fucking mess when his girlfriend, Sammy, left him. His bandmates tried anything and everything they could think of to pull him out of his deep, depressing mood to no avail. Finally, his best friend Jack came up with an idea: Why not hire a new girlfriend, just to get Alex back on his feet? Enter The Hustler, the epitome of Alex's perfect girlfriend, who is only given one rule: Never, ever tell anyone she's paid.

What is the best way to keep a secret? "Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding" - Lemony Snicket. It turned out that Snicket was painfully correct. By the time I reached P.E. after lunch on Monday, it was tipping over the edge of eighty degrees, and my red hoodie had been stuffed in the back of my locker since Brunch. I'd lost count of how many people had gaped at my arm with shocked expressions and open mouths, curious voices unsure of whether or not they wanted to know the answer asking, "Did you cut your arm?" By third period, I'd gotten so fucking sick of repeating the same excuse that my sarcastic asshole side had leaked out. So, I'd been responding to my classmates appalled questions with something along the lines of, "Yes, I cut myself." There was a kind of sick humor to it - technically, I was telling the truth. Not that anyone would ever know it. Cover cred to RazorbladeKissesx