Uploaded: 17th August 2012

Authors Note:

I am completely in awe of all the positive feedback I received from you guys on the prologue!! You are all absolutely amazing <3 Just a warning: This story is based on ‘The Parent Trap’ 1998, but there are differences. I do borrow some lines from the movie, but I promise the story will be as unique as I can possibly make it.

Chapter One:

A little more than fourteen years later:

There’s a summer camp in Maine for girls every year. A performing arts camp that is. Eight weeks’ worth of music, singing, dancing, musical theatre, drama, aerobics and gymnastics.

Amy Tomlinson lived with her father in New York City. He was a drama teacher and owner of Perform in Style: New York Performing Arts School, one of the most renowned schools in state. And thus was the reason he had difficulty comprehending why on earth his thirteen year old daughter wanted to go to a performing arts camp when that was all she ever did back home. But nevertheless, he wouldn’t deny his precious Amy anything, and had whipped out his chequebook and signed the forms that granted parental permission. She grinned at him, dimples showing and told him ‘Thank you Papa, I love you.’

Amy had always wondered why she didn’t look too much like her father growing up. Whilst he had caramel coloured hair, she had dark brown curls, and she couldn’t imagine where she had inherited them from. Her aunts were all brilliantly blonde, but her grandmother did have dark hair, so that was pretty much the only explanation. She didn’t doubt her parentage though, as her cerulean orbs were an identical copy of her father’s and their all too similar personalities only sought to prove her parentage.

The Tomlinson housekeeper and chef (let’s face it, Louis Tomlinson couldn’t cook and clean to save his life) was an Irish man named Niall Horan. He was a funny guy and loved to eat. He took over the motherly role in Amy’s life. She spent nearly two years thinking that her father and housekeeper were in some sort of relationship. They really were that gay.

Amy saw her ‘mother’ often, but their relationship was never like that of a mother and a daughter. They weren’t even blood related, she had just given birth to her, and though Amy didn’t understand the finer details of it, she really wasn’t affected by that. Cher was more of a close friend or an older sister, and hung around the house from time to time. Cher was the one that had helped her pack her bags for camp, knowing full well that Louis Tomlinson, was 100% incompetent in that area.


Emmy Styles lived in London with her father, godfather and family butler. Her ‘Daddy’ owned a record company, and was a composer, and so she had been exposed to music young. The two liked to sing together, and could quite often be found harmonising to the latest tune in their family home. Her Godfather Zayn lived with them. He’d been around for as long as Emmy could remember. She’d once wondered if her father and Uncle Zayn were in a relationship.

They had an authentic English butler, Liam, who was more of a friend than worker. He drove her to and from school and took care of her whilst her father and godfather went to work together at Direction Records.

Emmy was an almost identical copy of her father, in the female form of course. From her head of dark curls to her porelain skin, glowing pink cheeks and ridiculously perfect dimples, she resembled her Daddy perfectly. The only thing that differed from the two were their eye colours. Whilst Harry Styles had green eyes, Emmy's were comparable to blue gemstones.

She was a daddy's girl through and through, and her father practically spoilt her rotten. He'd hugged her tightly as he bid her goodbye the day she was leaving for camp, kissing her on the forehead and telling her that he'd miss her. Liam nearly had to physically separate the two to prevent Emmy from missing her flight to the US.