Dummy Page #4

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Dummy Page #3

jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja hee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn dejae f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief weakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja hee fj

Dummy Page #2

jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja hee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn dejae f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief weakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja hee fj

Dummy Page #1

Bag ja gig aiejg j gnu i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia ecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash e fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a f jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja fa fief we f was fja gjhai vwhe f a vhakjfsj alf a fjia  i  jg a hwe ghee fj ash fajwecbha j the var vhbifubz f elf a ice fan efta ewhjf jn deja

Fan Fiction: HES

The loud streets of Los Angeles covers the scenery, cars, boutiques and the crowd filling up every space available. Uptown Los Angeles is always filled with busy streets, especially when the fall time comes like today. The reason you ask? Simple. Homecoming is coming up soon and the sales for dresses are nearly everywhere. I had spent the past two weeks trying to find the perfect dress that will go with my sparkly white heels. This year will be my last homecoming since I had been promised an early scholarship to UCLA and I will not leave this miserable high school without a banging exit. Everything is perfectly falling together now and all I need is that one perfect dress for the night.

The whole Saturday was spent with my best friend Chelsea who had been so patient with me ever since I started nagging her about this night, “The peach colored dress looked perfect on you. Can we go already?” I hear her whine from the other side of the fitting room.

A small chuckle leaves my mouth at her words, my eyes only focusing on the mirror before me with the sixth dress I had tried on from the store, “Okay. This one?” I reopen the door, a slightly impatient Chelsea revealing itself and I can notice the disappointment in her face when I walk out in a black dress.

“What part of peach dress do you not understand, Hannah?” Frustrated, she stands up from the white couch and walks up to the full length mirror, fixing her hair up. “But that dress does not look too bad so, peach or black. Whichever makes you more comfortable.” Her mumbles barely audible, I jump up excitedly as I look at myself back in the mirror.

“Promise I’ll be done soon, thank you for being so patient.” Hugging her tightly, I squeeze my arms around her and just like that, I run back inside of the fitting room, closing it behind me.

“Hannah. Hannah, get out!” Hushed yelling filling up the room, I furrow my brows in the middle of unzipping my dress, “Hannah! I swear to god, if you don’t get out.” She repeats again with a warning tone, now trying to unlock the door with her petite hands.

I briskly open the door causing her to rush inside of the small room, the expression on her face looks like she had just seen an alien. Excited and scared at the same time, “Geez, woman. Don’t you want to leave?” She quickly turns me around, zipping my dress my back up before pulling me out of the fitting room section and pointing at a man with curly hair walking around the fancy store.

“Call me blind but I am a hundred percent sure that’s Harry Styles pouncing around the store. I recognize the length of his those perfectly dark brown hair anywhere.” She tugs me by the short dress section, facing the man.

“He has his back turned, I can’t tell-” I begin when I am instantly cut off by a very worked up, excited Chelsea.

“Yeah, because everyone has long curly hair, is six feet tall and wears sparkly boots in Los Angeles.” She pauses, our attention fully on the man who looks a bit lost, his attention on some mannequin. “Go ask him where the bathroom is.” Chelsea instantly tells me, yanking my arm and pushing me towards the large man’s direction.

“What- What are you doing? Stop that.” I try to fight back, wiggling myself out from her grasp.

The whole room filled by our movements and hushed yelling, I look at the man’s direction, his beautiful green eyes instantly meeting my own.

It is him. A quiet voice in the back of my mind reassures me when he pushes his hair back and returns to his previous mannequin studying. By the look in his eyes, I can tell that he was trying so hard not to judge us but I mean, this is Los Angeles after all.

Miami 2.0. You know what I’m saying. I tell myself, completely losing my sense of everything.

I mean he is probably used to this, having fan girls giving him the flirty eyes and the stares and seeing them in really really… really awkward situations just to pretend that he isn’t there when he is there, standing right in front of me. Holy crap, Harry Styles is standing right in front of me.

“Holy crap, Harry Styles is standing right in front of me.” I blur out once everything is slowly sinking in and the man moves away from the mannequin only to walk around the place, obviously a bit bored with his surrounding.

“We should go talk to him.” Ms. Crazy Ideas speaks again.

“What!? No, he probably has gotten this all day, give him a break.”

“Hannah! Wake up! He is right there, you’re going to have to pay thousands to be this close to him ever again.” And once she said that, it did make a lot of sense. I would never see this man just walking around LA like this ever again, “I’m going in.” I follow her movements, brows furrowed as she walks up behind the man.

No, don’t it. 

I tell myself again as I stand up straight, my attention now fully on the Chelsea. I can see her hesitate behind the much larger boy before deciding to finally pat him on the shoulder and he instantly turns around, a wide smile appearing on his face.

Oh my god! 

The two strike up into a small conversation and I am left behind, looking at them, deciding if I should pretend to be lost and say hello, as well. No, that’s too vague. I have to be casual about it. Cool and collected. Yeah. Cool and collected.

“Chelsea,” My voice cracks. Perfect. “I…was- Hi.” I instantly advert my attention to the beautiful curly haired boy standing in front of her, my eyes probably sinking into his a little too much since he has that ‘try not to get creeped out’ look on his face. “I was looking for you.” I mumble out a bit breathlessly.

“Look, it’s Harry Styles just like I told you. I was just telling him how I made a carrot cake for his birthday.” Chelsea eagerly explains,  “This is my best friend Hannah. We’re shopping for her homecoming dress.”

“That’s lovely, I hope you girls lots of fun and stay safe.” His voice sounds just like in those million interviews I’ve watched but listening to it live is going to wreck my crumbling directioner life, save me. “I really must go now but it was nice to meet you guys.” Dismissing himself, he gives us a small head nod, walking away towards the cashier.

“Thank you, Harry.” An overly excited Chelsea responds back to him and I mumble a small, “Thank you.” as well.

“Oh, my god! Did you see his dimple? And the way he smiles oh my god, his voice. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. I can’t breathe, he’s so beautiful. I can’t believe Harry Styles just told us to stay safe, what is life right now. Oh, my god. I’m going to cry.” She pauses, my eyes still glued onto the six feet tall man, “We should ask him for a picture, wait.” She looks around, remembering that all of our stuff are still in the fitting room.

We both run back to the area, taking our smartphones out and ready for the camera but before we could ask him, he is gone with his rumored supermodel girlfriend, Nadine Leopold.

“So I assume the rumors are true.” We both stare at each other in silence, the camera still on as I look down at it in my hands, “Did you see how her hand was tugging Harry from us. What about Larry. This isn’t real. Larry is real. This is just some sort of cover-up, I’m sure. If she thinks she is going to marry him, she thought wrong. I mean just-” The petite girl begins to ramble on and on about the famous Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles secret relationship as I watch the possible love of my life walk out of the store, holding a gigantic bag with his potential girlfriend’s arms holding onto his.