Payne in the Ass

13. #ChickenWingingIt

Eponine's POV

If Louis doesn't marry his girlfriend Elle one day, lesbi honest...I will.

I'm sorry. Was that awkward to admit?

Louis was absolutely ecstatic that Elle and I hit it off when we all went out to the movies. We nearly got kicked out of the theatre because we were laughing so hard at the corniness of it.

I wanted to both hit whoever wrote the manuscript for it with a giant truck and hug them to death since the movie was so terribly amazing.

I'M NORMAL, I SWEAR.

MY MOTHER HAD ME TESTED.

Just kidding. My mam didn't test me.

Recently.

My point is Elle is my homeslice.

My homedog.

My homie.

My hom-I give up.

I'm officially shipping Elponine. Eponelle. Ellppy? I need help here.

The only problem with her is that she doesn't like the boyband her own boyfriend is in it. I don't understand how that works at all. How does she not recognize the face millions of girls cry and pee themselves (it happens, don't question it. If you haven't gotten so excited you peed over a celebrity, you're lying to yourself. Lying is frowned upon. FROWNED UPON.) over?

She's must have seen his face on a poster or a CD or something at one point or another.

But yet she hated the band One Direction. Just...I'm mind blown.

MIND BLOWN.

You can't just hate something without knowing the face of what you're hating.

It just doesn't work that way.

So now a conflict hits us in a face.

Literally, Elle was fixing her hair and she accidentally hit me in the face.

That was off topic. True story, though. Tell your friends.

Actually, don't. If you tell that story, there's a good chance whatever friends you may have may never speak to you again. Let's not take my advice.

But how are we supposed to let Elle know her own boyfriend is a world famous boyband member in the very band she hates?

I give up on life.

You can't really just go, "HEY BABE, I'M A FAMOUS SINGER BUT YOU HATE ME IN A WAY YOU JUST DON'T REALIZE WHO I AM. LOVE ME?"

I don't think it works that way.

On the bright side of things, LIAM AND I'S RELATIONSHIP IS CUTER THAN YOU WILL EVER BE. I'm not even sorry for that.

He's such a cupcake.

Yes, I called my boyfriend a cupcake.

Sometimes he asks permission to kiss me and my heart sobs. I always tell him he doesn't have to and then he apologizes, then I roll my eyes and say something like "You don't have to say you're sorry, silly!" and then he blushes and apologizes again and then I throw my head back and laugh before I pull him in for a kiss, where I sometimes miss so we both laugh again and look into each other's eyes before giving each other pecks on the lips and then we nuzzle our noses together or lean our foreheads against the other's, grinning with admiration.

 WHO NEEDS A BOX OF TISSUES?

HE'S SUCH A GENTLEMEN.

I TAKE MYSELF UP ON MY OWN OFFER FOR THE TISSUE BOX.

I JUST- INSERT SOME LOUD NOSE BLOWING RIGHT HERE.

We're perfect, okay?

And flawless.

FLAWLESS. I keep repeating myself lately for emphasis.

EMPHASIS.

Eponine, stop it.

EPONINE, STOP I-Oh. I'm stupid.

 I have a confession to make.

I think I might love Liam.

Or scarier even, I think I'm in love with Liam.