Quand j'ouvre les yeux après un long sommeil, je me dis tout le temps qu'il y a pire que moi. Je me dis que j'ai un logement, un très petit logement. Je me dis que j'ai de la nourriture, peu, mais j'en ai. Je me dis que je gagne des sous tout les soirs, pas une grande somme, mais j'en gagne pour survivre tandis que d'autre n'ont rien. Alors, même si ma vie est pourrie, même si je vend mon corps d'homme, même si j'ai tout les soirs mal, je me dis qu'il y a pire que moi, et ça va un peu mieux. Mais j'ai toujours mal. Quand il ouvrait les yeux, où je travaillais, il me regardait et il n'avait plus mal. Il souffrait, il ne disait rien, mais il n'avait plus mal car il me regardait. Moi, Louis Tomlinson, je me sens observé, quand je travaille dans ce bar. Je ne sais pas si il s'agit de ce groupe de motard qui gueule sur un match que diffuse la télévision du bar. Je ne sais pas si il s'agit de ce vieux, qui regarde son verre, attendant que le temps passe. Ou bien si c'est ce jeune, ce jeune garçon avec des longues boucles, des longues jambes et des yeux verts qui m'observent silencieusement.

She thought the world was against her and being loved just wasn't for her, until she met four boys determined to change that. (the writing in this is certainly not my best, just a heads up) warning: this book deals with triggering topics such as eating disorders, self-harm, and suicide. [highest ranking ~ #1 fanfiction] 2015 by mrcalibu. All rights reserved (I do not own 5 Seconds of Summer, Hi Or Hey Records, Arzaylea, Bryana Holly, or any real-life characters that may be involved in the story. I only own my own characters, such as Daisy. Every character and their actions in this book is strictly fictional.)

CURRENTLY IN THE PROCESS OF BEING REWRITTEN!

My name's Marcel. Nerd. Poet. Teenage Loser. You think you know the real me, but you don't. I wish you could see the true me, but no one has cared enough to. Until she came. All rights go to _smilelikeniall (myself). Everything is written by me. No copyright intended. Please do not claim my words and/ or ideas as yours. Do not repost my words without giving me credit. Thank you.

Louis s'ennuie en cours. Il n'écoute pas ce qu'explique son professeur de littérature. Il regarde les alentours, les murs. Il regarde les élèves écouter ou dormir, puis son regard s'abat sur son bureau. Il détaille les dessins qu'il y a dessus, il regarde chaque partie mais une phrase le perturbe. Il la regarde, cette phrase est courte, mais en dit long. Cette phrase fait rater un battement à son coeur tellement elle le surprend, tellement elle lui fait mal. Il s'approche et lit une deuxième fois la phrase qui est gravée sur la table de son bureau: " je veux mourir. "

Josephine Marie Laken is a girl who just wants to be the perfect daughter to her parents. She craves to bring home perfect grades, even though it stresses her out to no ends. When she agrees to tutor a student in History as a favor to Mr. Harbors, that will also help raise her grade, she didn't know just what she was getting into. And she wondered; if I did know how everything would go from there on, would I have changed anything? Or would I have walked straight down the road of ruins anyways?

The passionate story of Tessa and Hardin continues as family secrets, deep betrayals, and career opportunities threaten to tear them apart.

Was it her beauty that reeled me in? The mysterious, deep, color her eyes contained? Or her addictive smile, smell, or even her personality? It was none of these things. The reason she's too afraid and too sad to even talk is what made her even more mysterious and captivating to me. Not talking for six years as a side affect from a tragic accident is what I learned had caused it; her sister and mothers death traumatized her. And my goal is to help her break free, to help her gain the courage to live her life to the fullest. To speak to me.