Chapter 12

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I'm terrified. I'm failing English and Math. Help. Someone wanna tutor me...?

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Carly’s POV:

     Rumors really piss me off sometimes, especially when they involve me. Everyone everywhere was talking about how Harry and I were ‘dating.’ It’s unbelievable, really. People see a guy and a girl hugging or hanging out, and they automatically think that the two are dating. And when you are famous, it’s ten times worse. The media blows everything out of proportion, and the fans go on the rage. And oh God, the paparazzi. They try to snap a picture of you two together, pushing and shoving to get a shot, and they get extra nosey to know the inside scoop of your relationship. And when you are not even in a relationship, they don’t understand that and keep pestering you about admitting some details.

     And that’s exactly what’s happening with me now.

     Everyone thinks that Harry and I are in a relationship, when we’re really not. It’s in literally every magazine out there and the fans are going mental. My hate messages have doubled, and it’s resulting into death threats as well. Fans telling me to stay away from Harry, but my fans and the boys’ sweeter fans say that they have all of their support in the relationship, and that they totally ship ‘Harly.’ As sweet as that is, there is no Harly. There may never be a Harly. Sure, Harry’s a great guy, but like I said before, I’m not really looking for a relationship.

     I have to focus more on my career, anyway. My music is becoming big and people are starting to recognize me, stopping me in the streets for pictures or autographs. My album was released, and I’m already on a tour with one of the biggest boy bands ever. 110% of my focus is in that, and I don’t need to waste any of that focus on a boyfriend. Now, I’m not insulting Harry or anything. God, no. Any girl would be lucky to date him and have him as a boyfriend. I mean, just because I don’t want to be in a relationshp doesn’t mean I don’t like Harry. I do like him, but just as a friend. Our friendship is going stronger, and I don’t want anything to ruin that.

     But there’s always this part of me that wants something more out of that relationship... I don’t even know what.

     I sigh, running a hand through my long hair. In an half an hour, the concert would begin. I’m sitting in my dressing room chair, all dressed up, my phone in my hand as I clutch it, and my right leg bobbing up and down. I was so nervous, and was taking deep breaths to calm myself down. I was alone in my dressing room, and looked at myself in the mirror. I was dressed in a cute red dip dress that ended a few inches above my knees in the front, but in the back it kept going down to my feet. Along with that I had on black heels, my hair was perfectly straightened and it even had some blonde hightlights in it. I had blush, bronze mixed with gold eye shadow, black eyeliner and mascara, and red lipstick. Overall, I loved my look.

(Outfit: http://i1248.photobucket.com/albums/hh496/biebersgirl222/5798274E-CF68-444A-8A35-E53F372E7933-2783-0000019D9F328B9D.jpg )

     A few knocks suddenly came on my door, and a second later in came trailing the One Direction boys. They were all dressed for the concet as well, looking really good in their outfits. “Hey,” Liam smiles as they walk in. “You ready?”

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