Hey guiiiise. First of all, THANK YOUTHANKYOUthankyou! I was completely shocked when I saw that I had 62 votes this morning. Y'all are the besst <3
Dedication goes to.... @xXloveXx2697 because she's just a fantastic fan and her comments are amazing! Thanks girl <3
If there are any mistakes, I'm so sorry! I wanted to go ahead and get this out there because you all were so supportive. Plus, I have algebra... :(
So here's chapter 10, the LONGEST chapter so far! YAY! I hope you like it...
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Chapter 10 *Wedding in 10m 17d*
-Hallie-
I drink in the sight of Harry- his curls stylishly messy, his green eyes lively, and his stunning grin that lights up the room. The happiness in his expression is almost enough to sway me from my decision to get the wedding cancelled. But the simple reminder that if I can pull this off, that beautiful boy could be mine is enough to solidify my decision.
"I think it's time," I mutter to Zayn, putting the first step of SHW into action.
Harry chatters away about the bonuses of being in the band, oblivious to all the scheming in the chairs beside him. Arabella gazes at him, a broad smile on her flawlessly red lips.
Somehow, Zayn roped Liam and Niall into our plot and they happily agreed to assist us. What I don't understand is why Louis hasn't been included, but apparently, since he's Harry's best man, they're not positive if they should tell him yet; from my perspective, Louis is incredibly devious and would, therefore, be an amazing asset. After a meaningful glance from Zayn, Liam begins his section of the plan, casually sliding out his iPhone and opening Twitter.
"So basically, I think the best part, other than our brilliant fans, is spending so much time with my best mates. They're the best things that have ever happened to me," Harry finishes.
"Aw, Harreh." Lou pretends to blush and giggle girlishly.
My phone pings, indicating that Liam's step of the plan has been carried out. Just to be reassured, I ever-so-slowly peek at the screen and grin.
From: Twitter
@Real_Liam_Payne: at an intrview couldnt keep the news in any longer.. congrats to the happy couple! yep @Harry_Styles proposed too @officialarabella last night. cant wait for the wedding
I smirk, a surge of exhilaration coursing through my vein. Because once Harry starts proposing, Twitter will already be acutely aware that they're engaged. So not only will it ruin the surprise, but hopefully it'll be obvious that he proposed on-air to gain the media's notice and be hurtled into the spotlight. And then, if the fates sway luck towards us, everyone will recognize that the ever-so deceptive Arabella Edwards utterly craves, thrives on attention. I'll admit it isn't the most brilliant plan, nor has it been quite as cleverly schemed as we desired, but it was the only one we could come up with on such short notice that didn't involve a lame Hollywood-movie type of plot or illegal behavior. Zayn, in particular, was in favor of cutting holes in the front of Arabella's dress, like they did to Regina in Mean Girls. Of course, I secretly think it's because he wanted to see her bra. Just because he hates her doesn't mean he doesn't have the same thoughts as a typical teenage boy.
I sneak a glance at Zayn, whose eyes, fixed on Arabella, are wide and flooded with horror. I whip my head around, fastening my gaze on the frosty blonde, and gasp. Concealing the device in an effort to portray proper manners, she ducks her head downwards, her thumb grazing the screen as she skims through her feed. Oh no, oh no, she must have received a notification from Twitter as well. My gut plummets; how in the hell are we supposed to salvage the situation now?
"Speaking of 'best things', how have things been going with everyone's relationships?" the perky blonde interviewer inquires, with a rumble of assent from her co-host, a balding man with a voice like thunder.
Louis parts his lips in preparation to speak, Eleanor squeezing his hand affectionately, but pauses when Arabella coughs daintily. Harry's face brightens significantly, his green eyes dancing anxiously. This is obviously his cue, and he kneel down.
My eyes dart back towards Arabella, who's gorgeous face appears distinctly panicked, the wheels in her head whirring and churning, struggling to devise a way to escape the looming disaster.
"Actually, it just so happens that, tonight, right here and now..." Harry starts, his expression sweeter than a jar of fresh, golden honey.
"We're getting married!" Arabella interrupts boldly, beaming dazzlingly and fluttering her inky eyelashes with an alluring air. "Yes, we're engaged."
I curse softly to myself and Zayn, mumbling darkly in despair, shifts lower in his plush seat. It's just like Ar to save herself at the last possible second.
"Oh my!" This is clearly an interviewers dream come true, a celebrity wedding announcement on her station. She's positively giddy, fanning herself from the thrill of it and glancing around wildly as though to reassure that the entire station is aware. Her forehead crinkles as she eyes Arabella's hand. "Where's the ring?"
Ara blushes, scrambling for an excuse. "Um... Harry's holding onto it for... safekeeping. He wanted to announce the big news as a surprise, which, I suppose I ought not to have said anything. I'm sorry, I just couldn't contain myself." A small, signature pout curls her lips downwards and a wave of heat washes over her cheeks as she adopts a falsely apologetic pretense. I have to offer her credit; she might possibly the most graceful, smooth liar I know,
Harry cocks his head slightly, completely perplexed, but utters a hasty, "No worries, love." With a prompt, delighted grin, he extracts the glimmering ring and extends it for the interviewers to precisely examine.
The woman gasps enviously, unable to remove her gaze from the massive gem set ornately into the center of the shimmery silver band. "Oh, it's positively beautiful! Stunning, isn't it, Rick?" She sharply nudges the man beside her, evidently trying to involve him in the conversation. "Look at that diamond! So, when's the wedding?" the interviewer gushes enthusiastically, shifting forward in an effort to make things seem more confidential.
The entire continuation of the interview focuses, in excruciating detail, on their upcoming engagement, along with a hurried blurb about the mind-blowing subject of One Direction's success. The only word spoken to me throughout the whole event was a flurried, generic 'Welcome!' This station needs to sort out her priorities.
Well, I suppose we may as well admit that, for our first mission, Arabella deserves a point. Because, the beautiful, innocent, striking princess simply doesn't lose.
-Arabella-
I scrunch into a crumpled ball on our smooth, thick comforter the instant we arrive back at the hotel. The gorgeous sequined dress prickles against my velvety skin and hot tears roll down my cheeks, winding zigzagging trails through my makeup.
I've never been so devastated. All that preparation- practicing my shocked face in the mirror, applying waterproof mascara in case I decided to get teary for the interviewer, whispering the words 'Of course' a hundred times. And to have the moment snatched away from me like that.
I'm still trembling from the adrenaline that pumped through my veins the moment I read Liam's tweet. My God, if I hadn't spoken up just in time... things could have gone horribly wrong.
What makes things even more unbearable is that nobody seems sympathetic. Hallie was distracted the entire car ride and has ignored my texts all evening, the rest of the boys seemed slightly amused, and even Harry assured me that it was no big deal.
Emerging from the bathroom, Harry shakes his floppy curls out of his eyes and collapses on the bed beside me. I sniff miserably.
"Honey," Harry murmurs, gently resting his hand on my arm. "There's nothing to be upset about."
I mumble into my pillow, "On the contrary, Harry, there's plenty to be upset about."
"We were the main focus of the interview," he reminds me brightly.
That's true. The interviewer even closed with "Well it looks like One Direction's success is in both the music department and the romance!" But that doesn't make up for the aching disappointment.
"Yes, but I had my heart set on that proposal. Think how excited the fans would be," I whine, even though I despise whining. Whining is weak. Whining is for babies who don't get their ways. I'm anything but weak. And I always get my way. "All because Liam had to tweet at that exact moment."
"Darling, it wasn't Liam's fault. He was happy for us, and it happened to be at the wrong time," he defends his friend.
I sigh huffily and Harry stretches over my bare shoulder to lightly kiss my cheek, whispering an 'I love you' in my ear. Then, he too flips over, his curls tickling my skin.
With a huff, I open Twitter on my mobile and tweet to my million followers: 'for all of you who haven't heard, yes @harry_styles and I are getting married! i can't wait to become Mrs. Styles xx'
Cocooning into the comforter, I glare up at the creamy white ceiling, sliding my engagement ring up and down my silky, thin finger. Liam may or may not have been just trying to be supportive. Either way, it ruined everything.
Nobody appreciates how hard it is to be me.
-Hallie-
The group of us sits glumly in Zayn's room. The moment I stepped inside, I collapsed bitterly into a chair, massaging my temples in frustration. The room is eerily silent, tension choking the air. "Well, that had to be the worst plan ever," I speak up gloomily.
"Not the worst plan ever," Niall protests. "Just the worst luck."
"You're Irish," I complain teasingly with a heavy sigh. "Shouldn't you reverse bad luck?"
"I do my best."
I consider that, combing my fingers through my hair. What I really want to do is go to my room, shower, and snuggle into bed. Not sleeping at all the previous night, a full day at Disney, carrying out a scheme, and watching it fail can wear a girl out.
"What we need," Zayn announces. "Is to strike a real blow. The sooner we can achieve that, the better." I swear, he sounds like one of his motivational tweets.
I'm positively brain-dead, about to doze off in my seat, but I struggle to put on a concentrating face and stare at the wall. It's beige, a boring, dull color. Almost relaxing though, in a calming sort of way. It makes me... no. I have to stay awake. The lamp. It's bright and glaring. But sort of warm, somewhat sleepy. The bulb shines like a soft star, which come out at night when people fall asleep and rest their--
"Oy!" Niall's shout interrupts my inner turmoil and I whirl to face him. He's lounging on the bed and chewing his lip, determination burning in his blue eyes.
"What?" I ask, fidgeting in my seat. Putting on my fuzzy pajama bottoms will feel like heaven compared to the pencil skirt Ara convinced me to wear.
He smirks deviously and waggles his eyebrows. Any second, I expect a lightbulb to pop up above his head and a bell to chime, like in the cartoons. "I have a plan."
"I knew the Irish weren't only good for luck!" Liam grins, pounding Niall on the back. Is that supposed to be praise? It looks painful.
"But... it's not simple. There's loads of things that could go wrong," Niall adds doubtfully.
"That's better than anything else we have," Zayn admits, his eyes sparkling eagerly. "Share it."
As Niall begins his explanation, my phone pops up with a new alert. I expect it to be another text from Ar, since I've received fifteen since the interview, but it's from
Twitter.
From: Twitter
@officialarabella: for all of you who haven't heard, yes @harry_styles and I are getting married! i can't wait to become Mrs. Styles xx
Mrs. Styles? That's one thing she'll never be, if we can help it.
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Rosemaryy.