My name is Eleanor Calder. You might know who I am. I model, but millions of teenage girls knew me as the girl who dated Louis Tomlinson from One Direction. Yeah, I said dated. No we did not break up. How are we not together if we didn't break up? He died. Louis Tomlinson died. As well as: Niall Horan Liam Payne and Harry Styles. You may recognise them as well. As well as a girl named Danielle Peazer, my best friend. Also Liam Payne's girlfriend. Dead. Gone. There one day and gone the next. Deceased. Get it now? Not in complete shock? One other thing, did you notice that there was one missing from the list? Someone who is usually mentioned? Someone by the name of Zayn Malik? Well he's still alive. Right here next to me, right now. He says hello. This is our story of what happened when One Direction died. The world will never be the same. I guarantee it.

DISCLAIMER: This story was written in late 2012. I wrote Strings Attached as an adolescent with no idea how a healthy, adult relationship should function. This story is dark and twisted in a way that my teen mind couldn't comprehend at the time. There are more than a few scenes in this book with sensitive content. I--in no way--support rape culture and I do not condone my character's actions. However, as I said, this story was written in an ignorant state of mind. I will not remove this story from Wattpad. It is part of my past and though I am disappointed with the content, it shows how far I've come not just as an author but as a free-thinking adult. Thank you for reading. **Excerpt** "Say... it," She gasped, throwing her head back, cupping my face in her hands so that I was forced to meet her gaze. "You're mine." She held my gaze for a second more, before crushing her lips against my own, arms wrapping tight around my neck, pulling me down to her level. Arms sliding easily around her, she wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up, lips traveling over her chest and collarbone. She moaned as my hands dug into her tender flesh, pulling on it, their violence a stark contrast to the gentle kisses teasing their way up her neck. Bright lines marked the paths that my nails had etched into her skin, marking her, beautiful red tattoos, spreading out over her entire body. Her small hands knotted in my hair, pulling harder and harder as she fought the urge to cry out...