AN: Well, I'm pretty new to this section. In fact, all I used to write was for Hannah Montana (oliver oken is love) and Life With Derek, but, alas, Miley Cyrus is going downhill fast (sorry if anyone adores her) and Life With Derek is barely of interest to me anymore. So, I decided I'd try out the Jonas Brothers; I'm a huge fan (since december '06!) and love their music. Excited for Camp Rock, anyone? (:
So, this is my first JB fic and I hope you all like it. I worked really hard on it, and want to give a thanks to my friend Caity who helped me edit and fine tune everything. I'm not completely done with it yet, so hopefully I'll finish up the few chapters I need to. I know this is short, but it's only the prelude and trust me, the chapters get much more longer with length. Oh, and you'll find out the couples and whatnot soon. Enjoy, and please review at the end. (:
Disclaimer: If I owned the Jonas Brothers, I would not be writing and creating a fantasy world with them, and instead convincing Kevin to marry me. (:
lovelovelovelovelove.
I don't know when it started.
I don't even know why it started.
But it did, and now all I know is that I'm stuck in this big mess that no one can seem to get me out of. He says he can help me, but that's just the thing. I'm running from him, and I don't want him to help me.
I don't even know why he chose me, out of all the girls in the world.
I really wish he hadn't.
There are too many reasons, too many obstacles and factors running against us – for us to ever work.
He doesn't see this though, and refuses to believe otherwise.
It wasn't fair to him. He shouldn't get involved with me; I told myself, over and over, that I couldn't like him. I even tried to stay away from him, but he always found his way back. I thought, maybe if I got a boyfriend, he would back off and leave me alone for good.
He didn't.
He saw right through me, and I was left looking like an idiot. After, we got into a big fight. There was shouting and yelling, even a little pushing and shoving. Somehow, in between all of bellowing and physical contact, he managed to tell me his true feelings for me.
I don't know how or why he did this, but he did.
And it really, really messed me up. It messed me up so bad; in fact, that instead of telling him the truth, that I felt the exact same way, I ended up shouting any insult or offensive thing I could think of.
I told him I didn't like him. I told him I hated him; I hated everything he did and didn't do, and that he was an inconsiderate, arrogant moron that didn't deserve me. And I told him that I never wanted to see him again, and that he should just leave and never come back.
He didn't believe me.
And frankly, neither do I.