The Other Tomlinson Sister
- LETTURE 272,589
- Voti 3,500
- Parti 28
In corso2h 47m
Ultima pubblicazione gio, gen 2, 2014
You may have heard of the others, Lottie, Felicite, Daisy, Pheobe, Gerogia... But you've never heard of me... Grace Tomlinson, younger than Lou by 3 years. I was dared to be kept a secret, hidden away in neverland, from all the little "Directioners". At first, our little "game" was fun: Fangirls stopping me in coffee shops, telling me how I look like their Boo Bear. Physically running away from the management. Watching Lou second guess himself every interview, when they asked him how many sisters he had. Becoming the girl, no one thought I ever would be. Knowing I'm the punch - line, no one ever saw coming. Until, the day that my character started taking over my life. Ruining my relationships with everyone, even my own brother... I was abandoned, alone, the hot topic, trending on twitter: You name it. It was all me, well, it was my "alter ego" as the boys call it. But really. What's so interesting about the other Tomlinson sister? . ** I post a video with every chapter, so y'all can get a taste of my bipolar music taste(:**
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"Yeah, well... I'm starting to think I got stood up." The bartender clicks his tongue, setting his towel down with a slow shake of his head. "Fucking tragic. Can't say I understand it. If I had a date with you, I'd be here an hour early, dressed to fucking impress, already working out ways to keep you entertained all night." I raise an eyebrow, half-smirking. "Smooth." "Don't flatter me yet, love. That was just the warm-up." He nods toward my half-finished wine. "Tell you what-since your bloke's clearly an idiot, this one's on the house." I blink. "Seriously?" He shrugs, like it costs him absolutely nothing. "What can I say? I've got a soft spot for beautiful people with shit luck." His smirk deepens. "Also, it's good fucking business. You stay longer, you order more, and I get to look like the hero. Everyone wins." I shake my head, laughing as he pours me another glass with the kind of effortless confidence that suggests he's done this a thousand times before-offered a pretty girl a free drink, flashed a dangerous grin, made her night a little less shit. He slides the glass toward me. "Louis, by the way." "Bee," I say, taking a sip.
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