Stupid Dreamers

Stupid Dreamers

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Sep 10, 2015
You would think a movie actress, like me, would have a good reputation for all the good she does and how well she can portray a character in the movie. Turns out, playing all the villians in the movies does exactly the opposite. My name is Erin Taylor, the celebrity in Hollywood who people love to hate. I didn't mind that as much as the one I loved to hate, Mr. Harry Styles of the one and only One Direction. I may have to deal with some cruelty in Hollywood, but this is someone I can't stand. Yet I'm nothing but a dreamer, a stupid one at that, so what can I do to solve all this shit?
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PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM PERIODICALLY EDITING ALL THESE CHAPTERS, SO THEY MIGHT BE AWFUL BECAUSE I WAS YOUNG AND DIDN'T KNOW WHAT GRAMMAR WAS A YEAR AGO.... We used to have this game. I would sit in the audience and he would have to try and find me before the end of the show. If he did he would have to do something really weird we agreed upon while on stage. But as One Direction became more famous, tickets became more expensive and I wasn’t going to rely on Harry paying for every live show I attended. So I would visit a couple of times, I met the boys a few times and they were really lovely, but it wasn’t enough to keep the relationship Harry and I had as strong as it was. I get an occasional “Hey” text every month or so, but I haven’t seen him in about 2 years. Living right next to the Style/Cox household, I see Anne and Gemma all the time, but the few times that Harry came home, I was either on vacation or in college in the states. Harry was my best friend, but it seems like every day, the hope that we will go back to the old days comes slighter. But, little did Harry know, I was coming back into his life, well I didn’t technically know either. With my long blonde hair that reached the small of my back, dip dyed pink and purple at the ends instead of my short hair that stopped just after my shoulder blades. With my thin legs and flat stomach instead of my chubby cheeks. And the fact that I was no longer the little girl that every guy wanted as their best friend, but the girl that every guy drooled over. Harry was bound to not recognize me when I sat in the third row of his next concert in London … did I mention that every concert he would win the game?

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