Miss Popularity (Marcel Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 7

"Marcel, I can't get over how amazing you look. Why don't you dress like this for school?" I ask, because I know for a fact that if he looked like this every day, he would for sure get all the girls. But maybe it's a good thing he doesn't, because Marcel is mine, and I am his.

"Well.... It's a long story...." He replies.

"Oh." I rest my head on his shoulder. "I think you look hot like that though. I LOVE your curls!" I say, as I play with his hair. He just smiles.

"Do you want to play a game?" I ask.

"Hm.... Which one?" Marcel bites his lip.

"Maybe Truth? So we could learn more about each other?"

"Sounds good, my lovely."

I blush a light shade of pink. "Do you want to go first, Marcel?"

"Okay. Um.... What's your favorite kind of drink?" He asks.

"That would definitely be AriZona Tea. Oh, I want AriZona right now!" I giggle. "Have you ever tried it?" Marcel shakes his head 'no.' "Oh my god! You HAVE to! It is the best thing you will EVER drink! I'll be right back!"

I run into the kitchen and pull out 2 cans of Green Tea with Ginseng and Honey. I go back out to Marcel, and pass him one. "Try it." He nods slightly, and opens it up, and takes a sip, then nods.

"This is really good!" He smiles.

"Told you!" I say, then return the smile.

"Shall we get back to the game?" Marcel suggests.

"Alright. Your turn, babe."

"Uh.... If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

"I would LOVE to go to Paris one day. I've wanted to go there since I was little." I smile. "I've been trying to save up to go there one day, but I've always had to spend my money on more important things.... Like helping my mum pay bills, and buy food for us. Mums been working a lot. She works 12 hour shifts every day...." I look down into my lap, frowning slightly. Even though Marcel is a sweetheart, it's still embarrassing to admit this to him.

"I'll take you to Paris. I'll take you anywhere you want to go." He replies. That caught me off guard. I was expecting him to comment on my job, or mum or anything else. But I did not expect him to say THAT.

"M-Marcel." I whisper. "You don't mean that.... Do you?" I look into his eyes, and realize that he is telling the truth.

"Yes. I do. I can take you to Paris. I would bring you around the world, if you wanted me to." He holds by hands gently in his.

"Marcel," I look down again. "That's really sweet of you, but I don't want you to waste money on me. How would you even be able to afford a trip to Paris?"

"Er.... Well.... I'm in a band..... But I also have a job. I work as a songwriter too. I've sold songs to Demi Lovato, Adele, even Mariana's Trench. I've been saving up money for.... Well I don't really know what for.... But now I have something to spend it on." He smiles sweetly.

I shake my head. "Marcel, please don't spend your money on me. You earned it yourself. Don't waste it on me.... I do have my own money." I look away from his piercing green eyes.

"Dakota, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't. You told me that you use it all to help pay for the bills. How often do you work?" Marcel asks.

"I get home from school at 3:30. I start at 4, and I work until 11 every day after school. On weekends, I work from 9am until 9 pm. I'm only off the 1st Thursday and the 3rd Monday of every month. " I say quietly.

"Today is Monday...." Marcel says to himself, and i nod. "Where do you work?"

"Starbucks." I whisper, and look back into his eyes, as a stray tear falls from my own eyes. "I hate my job. But that's the only job I could find. And I really needed to help my mum and its just too much, Marcel. I can't do this anymore. I am exhausted from all of the late nights I spend working! And i hate all the people bitching at me!

'Oh, there's not enough cream in my Latte! There's too much cinnamon in my drink! I asked for EXTRA whipped cream!' I hate this! I hate my life!" I sob into Marcel's chest.

"Dakota, babe. It will be okay. I promise you. I will do anything I can to help."

"Marcel, you don't understand. I'm to the point where I've worked so hard, and I'm so stressed out, and so tired I just can't do this anymore! Marcel, I literally cry myself to sleep every night." I tell him, as I continue crying.

A few minutes later, I become aware of him humming. His arms are wrapped around me, and his chin is rested on my shoulder. I find myself drifting off to sleep in Marcel's arms.