The Story of Us (Book 1 of "The Story of Us" Series) [Completed]

Prologue

[Nick]

Harley Harper. The name itself is a mouthful to say and the woman herself is a handful to deal with.

Don't take my word for it; take the word of everybody in the entertainment business. Harley Harper was Taylor Swift before Taylor Swift even thought about letting any teardrops fall on her guitar. She was the sixteen-year old-girl who made everybody's head turn and spin out of control.

If she wasn't writing a song for shear shock value, she was doing a photo shoot that would send a heat wave through Hollywood and make hell freeze over in Nashville.

In one sense, she's the type of girl that is the real girl next door. You know, the kind you can take home to your parents when you're old enough, mature enough and not petrified of marriage. She's the kind of girl that will stop while in a hurry and pet a stray cat that probably has the mange, then go and buy some food for it to eat.

But then she's the type of girl that turns around the next minute and be a bigger diva than Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey. She can snap her fingers and whoever is working for her knows that they had better get their ass on the ball and do what she wants.
She's hot and she's cold, she's yes and she's no. Yes, I realize that's a song, but that song sums up Harley Harper in musical form.

She's also the girl that has driven me completely crazy since the moment I met her when I was eighteen.

[/Nick]

[Harley]

Nick fucking Carter. That's what I like to call him. No, not just Nick or Nick Carter, but Nick fucking Carter... The youngest member of the Backstreet Boys. Well, he's not so young anymore, but I guess he's still the "baby" of the group.

Yes, he's gone out or slept with several of today's stars or has-beens like Paris Hilton, Ashlee Simpson, Willa Ford, Jessica Simpson (yes, he's done sisters) and another long list that could probably compare to that of John Mayer, but who's counting, right? Wait, I probably am.

But none of them will ever compare to me.

Why's that? I still have him wrapped around my finger, even though he makes me so mad that I want to hit him with a guitar sometimes. I have to admit though; some of my best work has been about him. Hell, my first Number One hit was written about him.

He might be good in bed and a good comic relief, but he's an excellent muse. I might joke around a lot but he inspires me, not just in writing music, but in a lot of stuff.

And he drives me freaking crazy sometimes. Well, I take that back. He drives me crazy the majority of the time.

I just wish he'd grow the fuck up.

[/Harley]