Chapter one: love to dream

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Time.

Something I always took for granted. Something everyone is guilty of taking for granted.

I never thought I would be in a race against it. I never thought one action, one mistake, a lapse in judgment would have led me here.

Why did it have to be me of all people?

This is the story of how I lost everything, the story of how one error in my judgment changed everything. I didn't know, how could I? I didn't mean to hurt them. I didn't mean to hurt him.

But then she happened.

Along with her came darkness, secrets, and a danger that should've terrified me. And yet, I couldn't stay away. And sometimes I think to myself, how did I get here?

I should have listened, I should have opened my eyes. but I wanted to do things my way. I wanted to be stubborn and closed minded. I have to find a way to fix this before it's too late. I should have told Miles, I should have used my time more wisely, I should have—

...

I have a million different what ifs and should have's swarming my head but at the end of the day.

You can't change what has been done.

So let's try this one more time, yeah?

So let's try this one more time, yeah?

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IT WAS A SUNNY AFTERNOON. Y/n and Miles were found in her bedroom. It was nearing the end of the school year and Summer break was right around the corner.

Miles and Y/n were supposed to be at school for their parent-teacher conferences. Keywords, supposed to. The two forgot. So instead they were stuck trying to find something to do together that excluded them sucking their faces off.

It was then that Y/n came up with an idea. She sat up off of Miles's chest and looked him in the eyes with an excited gleam. His eyes scrunched in confusion. She blurted out what she wanted and Miles choked on his gum, swallowing it.

"You want me to do what?!" He lets out a few coughs and catches his breath with wild eyes.

"My makeup." She said straight-faced.

And Miles answered with a laugh dipped in disbelief, "Do I look like a makeup artist to you?"

Y/n paused, she gives Miles a look and he shakes his head not understanding the face she pulled on him. Well he does, he's just not going to voice it. The bright eyed girl leaned forward, her hands on his thighs as support, "Not a makeup artist but definitely an artist." She smiles as the words leave her lips.

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