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"I'm scared, David," I said for the eighth time, watching my phone buzz over and over again. It had been going crazy since the night before, when I posted the picture confirming we were dating. I wasn't equipped with all of the celebrity tactics of turning off your notifications, and I couldn't even unlock it without it freezing up, so I was basically stuck. "They're all being mean."

"You aren't even reading them," he said, not once looking up from his laptop where he was editing a video. We were sitting on the couch together, me funneling pickles into my mouth about three feet away while he was laying down working.

"Yeah, but I can tell they're mean. Your fans are mean," I replied in a 'duh' tone, shoving another pickle in my mouth. "They all want Liza back."

"They aren't the only ones," he mumbled his breath, rolling his eyes at my whining. I honestly found myself annoying and could see where he was coming from, but still, he shouldn't say it.

I stuck up my middle finger and sarcastically smiled, "Sit on it and spin."

"Are you always this childish, or is it just for me?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes, placing my jar of pickles on the coffee table.

"Nice talk, David," I chucked my blanket on top of him and hurried out of the house before he could catch me, sliding on my fake ass Gucci slides as I ran. He didn't like me leaving the house without him, out of fear that I'd break down and tell someone we were faking it, I guess. Luckily, I placed my keys in my Oregon sweatshirt pocket earlier, so I started my car and peeled out of the driveway just as I saw David running down the front steps.

I was so thankful that I had finally convinced David to let me have my car. For a second a week ago, he almost had me thinking I should sell it, and that he could drive me everywhere I needed to go. I realized how busy he was at the end of that argument, and he angrily drove me back to the dorms to get it. It really was better off; David usually wasn't even awake when I slipped out of the house at seven thirty every morning, and I could get away from him whenever I wanted. Win-win, in my book.

I ended up at Wingstop, one of my only safe havens from David. I convinced him, over the course of the week we've lived together, that I was an avid Buffalo Wild Wings fan, so he wouldn't ever find me at Wingstop if I was on the run. I ordered some wings and sat at a table in the back on my phone.

Two girls, probably around preteen age, were taking turns looking at me, which made me uncomfortable at first until I realized who I was and—more importantly—who I was dating. I was no longer Sloane Carlisle, average twenty one year old who had a thing for buffalo wings. I was David Dobrik's girlfriend, and I had to act accordingly.

I had never been quote unquote royalty before, but I took notes from one of my favorite movies and decided to be a loving, charitable princess.

"Hey!" I half yelled to the only other people sitting in the restaurant. The girls both turned around wide eyed as if they'd be caught red handed. "Do you guys want to come sit with me?"

I prayed that they had actually been looking at me because they knew who David was, not because I had something in my teeth.

The two girls shared a what the fuck? look, but ultimately nodded, picking up their meals and drinks and placing them on the table in front of me. I smiled and introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Sloane."

"We know!" one of the two girls blurted. She was teeny tiny and Asian, with short black hair cutting just below her chin, and she immediately blushed when she realized what she had said. The other girl, who appeared to be Latina, with long chocolate-y brown hair and thick, beautiful eyebrows, gave her a look. "I'm Celeste, and this is my sister, Isabella."

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