"So what's your story?" Adam questioned as we got out of the taxi. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I marveled at the town that I was currently in. Geography had never been one of my strong suits so I wasn't even sure where we were, but even though it was buzzling with people, it was still relatively peaceful.

Our university was, as you say, was kind of known for its love of the arts. From journalism to majoring in theatre, they are willing to help you explore your talents. Coming from that, it was no surprise that the people in the main city started constructing their buildings and houses to reflect the famed school.

The shops were differing in colors, all distinct from the others. Each one had their own personality and while standing on the spot where Adam told the driver to drop us off at, I figured out we were smack in the middle of the shopping lanes.

"What?" I asked absentmindedly as I stared at one of the shop's windows. Pink, that was the single way that I could describe it. It looked like it was set up for a tea party with the two chairs colored with a baby pink hue and the table in-between was covered with a white cloth. Tea cups, saucers, tea pot, and fake snacks were on top.

If someone would give me that, I would have walked out on them. Sure, I could portray the girly act at times, but if you do something as frilly as that, I would smack you.

"I told you mine about my best friend," he said me, taking the lead, "What's yours?"

Which story did he want? About the single relationship that I managed to tell to the world? Or my lack of creativity that was haunting me? I damned myself the moment I proposed the idea of writing a book to my mother and now I was paying the consequences.

Being an author was an odd kind of fame. People know your name, but not your face. You'll hear them talking about you but they wouldn't know you were standing right there – only a select few were easily caught in the middle of a sea of people.

But me? The picture at the back of the book I wrote barely resembled me at all and the way my thought processed inside my head has definitely changed.

Love is and never will be as easy as roses and chocolates. Making the guy notice you will not be as simple as smiling at him. Asking a girl out could be more nerve-wracking than you could ever imagine.

All those is what I've learned by twisting my love story. I tried to give it some flair, sugarcoating almost everything. Halfway through, I realized that it was no longer true to word.

Because the breakup I experienced was not a throat-screeching, vase throwing, or hair pulling ending. Instead, it was a mutual agreement to go on our separate ways because I've noticed that there were other things that we had to figure out as individuals.

So I scrapped the whole thing and rewrote.

We were still friendly after it all – he congratulated me with the book when it first got published without a single idea that it was about him.

I wrote him a forty chaptered love letter and he didn't even know.

In the middle of the happy cheers my friends gave and the annoying demands for free copies, I figured out that this was how they now see me. Not as the girl who sat there, laughing along with the silliest jokes or not minding one bit if we would just lay in one of our houses, eating ice cream or something. What they saw was that young teen author, they distanced themselves as if one book in the market was going to change the way I treated them.

So I plucked out the friends who weren't afraid to throw me a teasing insult or to call me up in the middle of the night, expecting me to get frustrated with them and they'll just laugh my words off. They were the ones that I wanted to stay with.

Instead of answering him, I shot him an inquiry, "Is there a bookstore nearby?"

He guided me to a Waterstones shop and I pushed those glass doors to enter. Looking around, I searched for the young adults section with him trailing off behind me. This was a major bookstore, they surely have a copy.

And true to my suspicions, it sat there on one of the dark colored shelves, squished in-between two other books from the same publisher. Bending down, I took a copy before handing it to him, my heart hammering in my chest with both pride and nervousness.

I was always conflicted on what to feel with that book. My parents told me that I should be proud of myself for most people my age couldn't even come close to what I have achieved, but at the same time, it brought me this anxiety that others would think that it was corny, it was childish, it wasn't interesting enough.

They do say, your worst critic is yourself.

"Sienna Clark," Adam read out the name printed on the cover.

Jotting down a finger onto it, I said, "That's my story."

With a little added drama here and there, but essentially, that was it.

"Heartbreak?" he questioned teasingly and I rolled my eyes as we made our way to the counter.

"One of the biggest source of inspiration out there," I shrugged, "Besides, I revealed no names and such, but only he would get most of those words."

He gave the cashier his credit card while she scanned the book, "So what was his reaction?"

"He never read it," was my reply and Adam's eyes widened in surprise.

I was ready for a confrontation, ready for him to demand answers why I wrote those things that were privately ours. It never happened and even though he gave me a little pat on the back, I've soon come to realize that he didn't read it.

He was never the one to crazily look for books – he was the playful sort of guy. Also a flirt, a big damn flirt but when we were together, he was loyal. But he was still a boy who wanted to go off without someone tying him down so much. I never demanded, that was something I was cautious about, but he needed to grow up a little more.

And I admitted back then that I did as well.

I loved him and I was assured that he loved me, but people just grow apart. I was constantly worrying and at the same time, I didn't want to be the insecure girlfriend.

The question still hung in the air: Will he ever read it? Will he ever find out how much I've been pulled by him?

"Well, I for one thinks he's an absolute tool," Adam grinned in a way to comfort me, retrieving the plastic bag and credit card from the cashier. Wounding his arm around my shoulder, I jolted up as he guided us out of the store.

"Nah, you'll like him," I said, repeating the same words he told me, "Everybody does."

And everybody certainly did.

"Sometimes I'll scream onto my pillow like a love struck middle school girl at the thought of him," I shook my head, "And other times, I want to knee him where the sun doesn't shine for being so damn ignorant."

"Charming," he chuckled, steering me towards one of the furniture shops. Before we entered, that was when he finally let me go and my shoulders slumped at the loss of contact.

The store was huge to say the least. On the first floor, couches, living chairs, beds, and whatnot were all lined up as various other shoppers sat on them to test them out.

"She demanded a white couch," Adam muttered and he took out his phone, handing me the plastic bag of the book while he searched along, "And she wants at least a queen sized bed, two bedside drawers, and she would not accept a tv less than thirty-eight inches for the living room and sixteen inches for her bedroom."

"She?" I repeated, falling into step beside him, trying to keep up with his fast pacing, "Your mom?"

He glanced down for a quick moment before shaking his head, returning his attention back onto the phone screen, "My best friend, she owns half of the flat."

At first when he mentioned that his best friend paid for most of the apartment, I thought it was a just a sweet gift because I was sure celebrities like her didn't mind splurging this much on presents.

Alright, alright, call me prude or childish or whatever, but if a guy and a girl share that apartment, wouldn't you think be suspicious of something? He mentioned that she has a boyfriend so why didn't the guy say anything about this?

No matter how platonic they may appear now, we can't deny the fact that Adam liked her and the girl also used to like him back; something was bound to happen.

What was this guy's situation right now?

My eyes focusing again on his face and I saw him moving his mouth as he told me something. Snapping myself out of this trance, I heard the last of his sentence, "...good enough?"

I then turned to the bed he was pointing at before nodding, deeming it sufficient. He gestured to the saleswoman and they began to talk. He probably asked for help with the others as she was now leading us through the floors, showing us different furniture and appliances.

Who was Adam's best friend? How famous was she? A-List or just some youtube star?

What big of a chance did he miss when he rejected her feelings? Why was he so willing to put himself through the torture of being under the same roof as her when she was clearly somebody else's?

"I brought you along to help me," Adam called out, his tone light and joking, "I can't pick which sofa I should get."

"Who is she?" I unintentionally murmured and he was taken off-guard at the sudden question. Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, he clearly showed that he didn't understand what I was trying to say, "What's your best friend's name?"

He excused us from the employee and he grabbed my shoulders, bringing us away from most of the people, "What are you going on about, Sienna?"

"Are you really going to risk yourself of falling in love again by living with her?" I fired, "Or are you just trying to turn a blind eye over this?"

Finally catching on, he released me and sighed, "It's not like that and besides, I stayed with her over the summer so it's not like it's the first time."

"And she ended up telling you her feelings," I reminded, "What if you slip up this time?"

"I won't!" his tone became louder as if he was denying it to himself more than he was denying it to me. He can lie all he wanted but I could see right through him.

He still loves her.

"Then at least tell me who she is!" I demanded, my voice matching his. He opened his mouth but when I saw the flicker of hesitation, I knew that he wouldn't say. It may be for her protection or because it might just tick me off more when I find out but I wasn't going to tolerate it.

Biting my lip, I ducked my head before I started to walk away from him. He called my name but it only made me increase my speed, dashing out of the store. Count on me to argue with somebody I just became friends with over something petty as this.

I was annoyed at him because he wouldn't admit it. The heart likes to play a game – a game that will screw up your entire life. No matter how much it wants you to think that everything was alright, you know deep inside that it wasn't.

In truth, I was just letting out my frustrations on him. He had every right not tell me and who was I to scold him? The thing was, I saw myself in him – incredibly stupid not to let go of my feelings even if I was the one to cut it all off.

My gaze then saw the small café in front of me and when I caught a whiff of the food one of the passerby was eating, it was then I remembered than I haven't taken any breakfast yet. Looking behind me back into the store, I sighed as I slowly made my way to the café.

All I ordered was a pastry and a cup of coffee, choosing to sit by the window so when the time that Adam leaves the shop, he would be able to spot me easily. Reaching into the plastic bag of his purchase, I pulled out the book it contained.

Flipping through the pages, I skimmed the lines. I didn't even recognize my own words anymore, I haven't touched, read, or even scanned through the inside of it for about a year now. So when my eyes managed to read out one sentence, I used a finger to stop the paper of the previous pages from falling onto it.

And when she told him to go, there was nothing she felt but pure regret. If given a second chance, she will surely never allow him to leave her side. She knew it was for his own food and yet, one word from him was enough to have her running back. Her heart knew that he was the home that she will always yearn for.

That, I believe, was the same kind of love that Adam was feeling. He allowed her to be with another man for her own sake but he knew that his heart belonged to her and I was afraid that, like what I wrote here, just one word from her and he'll be coming back into the pit hole known as his affection over her.

I know because that was what I felt.

Going to the very first chapter, my expression softened at the introduction my sixteen year old me has written.

She didn't really pay him mind at first but they got along splendidly. He wasn't much of a looker when they met, his dark hair was always flat on his head because he refused to wax or gel it up, he wore these silver pair of round glasses, and he was never seen without his lumpy jackets. She and her friends actually teased him that he looked like Harry Potter but he never really got annoyed for he knew that it was only some friendly banter.

Harry Potter – that was the most accurate way to describe him. I remembered when the girl next to me whispered that he looked like the boy who lived, I couldn't stop laughing and I ended up calling him that. That was freshman year and I could still remember his childlike features as if it was just yesterday.

The first time they spoke properly was when both of them were coincidentally absent for the day. Apparently, someone told him that she was gone the same day as he and he turned on the chatbox – that was the start of it all. His profile picture, at the time, was an anime character and it was still the start of the year, she couldn't remember his face. But the next day when their eyes met, she knew it was him.

When someone suddenly pulled out the chair that was across the table, I snapped my head up and stared at Adam. Without another word, he plopped down a magazine right next to the coffee cup before sitting down.

Closing the book, I then gingerly picked up the magazine and stared at the cover. There posed a gorgeous blonde girl, her blue eyes staring at you with her red lips formed into the brightest smile. Even though it was just a picture, you were held captivated by her beautiful features – from her sharp nose to those perfectly white teeth.

I knew her in an instant, she was Heart Valentine. The name sounded ridiculous but that was what made people remember her, aside from her talent of course, and she was described as Hollywood's Princess for not only ruling the music scene but for also dominating the box office.

"That's her," he pointed out quietly my eyes widened.

Flipping the glossy pages, I stopped where the article for her was written. At the bottom right of the page was a picture of the girl herself along with another familiar face in the industry – Axel Brooks, Hollywood's Prince.

I heard that they started dating recently after months of speculation. It rooted when she was pictured with him pulling her into a bridal shop and they all dismissed it as an escape from the paparazzi. Before that, there was a rumor that she was going out with a non-celebrity boy but she denied it by saying that he was just a friend that she treated like a brother.

And then it clicked.

"You were the boy she was photographed with," I gasped, blinking up at him and with the soft nod he showed, it confirmed my assumption. Finally getting it, I tapped my nails on the table before muttering, "I'm sorry."

The corners of his mouth threatened to pull his lips up into a smile. Instead of responding to my apology, he leaned back on his chair and asked me the very first thing he did when we got out of that taxi, "So what's your story?"

"Which one?"

"Why not all?" he said, "You wrote it down, you're writing it down, and you're going to write it down anyways."

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Something I never mentioned during this story's first run: I'm Sienna when it came to writing from experiences. This chapter is heavily filled with it and just like hers, it's a bit twisted but one look from the right person and you would know.

Question: Who knows Heart Valentine and Axel Brooks here? If you didn't know, the two of them (including Adam) was officially published last September with a revamped story so different from the one here on Wattpad.

Please vote, comment, and follow. Thank you for reading and I shall see you all next chapter.