*WARNING* This book is shit. Bad writing, bad story line, bad in general. So I mean, go ahead and keep on reading if you want but I don't think it's a good idea if you don't want to get seriously annoyed with my awful writing.
You're a rich, success...
Y/Y/N=Your YouTube Name (Even if you don't have one just pretend)
Y/T/N=Your Twitter Name (Same as the YouTube name)
F/N=Friend's Name
F/Y/T=Friend's Youtube Name
F/T/N=Friend's Twitter Name
EBF/N=Ex-Boyfriend's Name
F/P=Your Favorite Pizza
F/F=Favorite Food
F/D=Favorite Drink
B/N=Book Name (You're a successful author, remember?)
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The night you broke up with Dan was probably the worst one since the loss of your family. You drank the whole Sixpack of beer. Once you were thoroughly drunk you turned on music as loudly as you could and began dancing around your room drunkenly. You had passed out mid dance and hit your head hard on your bed frame.
The next day you had a terrible hangover once again and F/N hadn't been home to help you out. After you had stumbled around your kitchen making tea for yourself and taken a shower, you debated whether or not you were stupid enough to go out and get more alcohol. Turns out you were as next thing you knew you were locking the door to your flat and heading out to the store to get another pack of beer. That night you had tried your best to resist drinking but failed, having had a slight mental breakdown from wallowing in your own misery. You ended up putting in The Fault In Our Stars, making a bowl of popcorn and grabbing one of the cans in your fridge, drinking all of it rather quickly.
The day after that was similar but this time you were stopped from going to get more alcohol by F/N who had finally made an appearance. They had practically sat on you to keep you from leaving the house. Though part of you had been thankful, the other part that kept wanting more of the alcohol had been furious with them. You had curled up in your room and with nothing to make your brain go fuzzy and distract you from the hell that was your life, you began crying, your body shaking with sobs.
The following day is the worst yet. You wake up with swollen eyes and an empty feeling inside. It's worse than a terrible headache. It's worse than feeling like you're going to puke from having too much to drink. It's worse than trying to keep yourself from drinking. It's full on depressing. You feel like you don't ever want to do anything again.
You roll over in bed, closing your eyes and trying to sink back into your dream. It had been wonderful. You and Dan were back together and it was Phil and F/N's wedding. You let out a small whimper, aching for the dream to engulf you once more. You feel your heart clench when you think of the leftover image of Dan in a suit, his arm around your waist and a bright smile on both of your faces. Your eyes spring open and you throw the blankets off of you, standing quickly and exiting your room, unable to be in the calm silence of it.
You sprint downstairs, your heart racing. You practically run into the kitchen, relieved to see both Phil and F/N sitting together at the table. F/N looks up, startled by your sudden appearance. "Y/N?" They ask. "Are you okay?" Phil asks timidly.
Without warning you run out of the room again, suddenly not wanting to be around people. Thankfully neither of them follow you as you sprint back up the stairs and to your room. You sit down on the bed, your head pounding. "What's wrong with me?" You ask yourself seriously.
You turn your phone on and are suddenly shocked out of your temporary insanity. It's the fifth of April. The day you are supposed to meet the 'anonymous stranger' that sent you the letter. You stare at your phone, not noticing when the screen goes black. After a few minutes, you look at your watch. 1:30. You stare at the little one on the screen of your watch.
Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes before you have to meet this creep. You shakily stand up from your bed and stumble to your closet, grabbing the first clothes that come into contact with your hand which happen to be torn, black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt. You run to the bathroom and take a five minute shower, not caring that the water was practically below freezing the whole time.
You throw on your clothes, brush your hair, pull on your converse, grab your keys and phone and run down the stairs. "Where are you going?" F/N yells after you. "It's the fifth of April and it's nearly two o'clock!" You shout back, running down the hallway. "You've got to be fucking kidding me! You can't seriously be going!" They yell, joining you in the hallway with Phil on their heels. "What do you expect me to do?" You ask, turning to face them.
"Not go! Report it to the police! Bring someone with you!" F/N exclaims. "I can't do that! I can't fucking do that because then he'll hurt you and he'll hurt Phil and he'll hurt Dan!" With those as your last words you throw open the door, exit your flat and slam it behind you.
You sprint down the stairs, passing Dan on the second floor who is coming out of his flat with a concerned look on his face. "Y/N," he says as you pass but you don't acknowledge him, knowing that if you do you'll loose all self-control and give into those brown eyes.
You run down the stairs, ignoring the shouts from F/N, Dan and Phil from above you. You run out of the building and hail a taxi. As it comes to a halt on the curb, F/N sprints out of the building, trying to catch your arm as you shut the door of the taxi. The taxi driver gives you a look before asking, "May I ask where to, miss?" You give him the instructions, trying to ignore F/N screaming what looks like profanity on the other side of the window. Only when the taxi is out of sight from F/N standing on the curb do you start to breathe again.
You take a deep, calming breath as you asses your situation. It isn't long before you realize that F/N was right about calling the police instead of going to see what he wants. The bitterness of being wrong overtakes you and the urge to do something reckless and stupid becomes stronger. You look at your watch anxiously. Six minutes until you have to be there.
After what feels like forever, the taxi pulls up to Starbucks and stops. You quickly pay the driver, telling him to keep the change so you don't have to wait for him to count out how much he owes you in return. You rush into Starbucks, glancing at your watch. 1:59. You take a deep breath when you enter the café. You glance around the room, knowing exactly who will be waiting for you.
You gulp when you see him, nervously walking over to the very small table in the back where he is sat with two drinks. "I got your favorite." He says by way of greeting.
"What do you want?" You ask, timidly sitting down across from him.
"That, Y/N, is very simple and I believe that you will be very willing to give it to me." Says EB/N with a repulsive smirk.
~*~
Hey my lovelies. So, as you can see, this story is getting darker. Addictive drinking, creepy stalker of an ex-boyfriend, etc. I would like you to tell me how you feel about this. I don't want to loose readers because of some darker writing and shit so please tell me so I know whether or not I need to change my plan of how this story will go.
I do have a plan for this and I don't know how many more chapters it will use. My guess is that I will have between 10 and 20 more chapters. I don't know exactly yet. Anyway, please vote, comment and share this story with your friends. Later nerds.
