Chapter One
On The first page of our story,
The future seemed so bright
Then this thing turned out so evil
I don't know why I'm still surprised
Love The Way You Lie Part II
Rihanna and Eminem
As little girls we are programmed to believe that a good man is the key to our happiness. It starts with the bed time stories our parents tell us. We hear about a Prince Charming who will come and sweep us off our feet and shower us with love and affection. Then when we get a bit older we see Barbie and Ken and think that our Ken is out there somewhere waiting for us. Once we hit puberty we begin to buy into the romantic comedies, believing that we will have an epic romance similar to the one in The Notebook.
But the reality of the situation is that real life and real life love is nothing like we are made to believe. This is the real world and Prince Charming is nothing but a figment of our imagination. Trust me, I know. I thought I found my Prince Charming. My Ken. My Noah. I thought I found the man of my dreams. The perfect guy. I thought I was lucky. The fact that such an amazing guy had fallen for me was a miracle. That was before I knew the truth.
From the outside, I appear to have one of those epic love stories from the movies. The entire world believes that my relationship is perfect. Everyone envies me. But what they don't know is how much I envy them. I wish that I could still be as naïve as they are. I wish that I could still believe in the perfect relationship and the perfect couple.
I am sure you have heard of me. These days it seems as if everyone has. My name is Olivia Lane. I am one half of "Hollywood's Perfect Couple." I am the girlfriend of Justin Bieber, "The Golden Boy." We are known as the world's cutest couple. Everyone knows our story; they all know how we met. We have been dating for one year and we now live together in a spacious apartment in Beverly Hills.
I am sure you have seen my face plastered all over every tabloid in America. But regardless, I will describe myself. I am 18 years old and I have light brown hair that falls down to my waist in ringlets. My eyes are a very bright blue and I have very pale skin. I am very petite, with a thin frame and I am only around 5 foot 3 inches tall. I suppose I am pretty. That is what they tell me anyways. After all, I am a model. Yes, as I am sure you already know, I am a model for some of the hottest designers in the business right now. I am also in various television commercials and music videos. I didn't get into the business because of Justin. The business is how I met him. But you already knew that didn't you?
I know that millions of girls around the world know who I am. They all know my story. And they all envy me. They all want to be me. And to me, that is absolutely ridiculous. They all think I have the perfect life. Perfect? Yeah right. I wish.
I don't know why I still think about this. I don't know why I pay attention to the label that the world has for us. It only hurts me. Because the reality of the situation is that my relationship is more like a nightmare than a fairytale.
So it is time I stop thinking about the past and wishing that I could go back there and focus on the present.
I glance over at the clock for the twentieth time in two minutes. It is 1 am on a Saturday night and here I am lying in bed waiting for my boyfriend to come home. I would say that I am curious to where he is. But I know exactly where he is. I know why he didn't make it home for our date. I know why I haven't heard from him since 3:00 this afternoon. He heard about a party. Yes, a party is more important to me. I'm not even surprised anymore. I would like to say that I don't care, but that would be a lie. Because it hurts. It hurts to know that he always chooses partying over me. Especially when I know what goes on at these parties. I know what goes on at them because that is where we first met, at a party.
And here I go again, right back into the past…
Back then everything was so good. Life was so easy. So full of promise. If you would have told me then that my life would be like it is now, there is no way I would have believed you.
Sometimes I find myself wishing that I had never gone to that party. I wish I never walked through the door of the club. Because then I wouldn't have met him. And fallen in love with him.
Falling in love with Justin Bieber was the worst decision I ever made. But I don't think it can even really be considered a decision. I didn't consciously decided that I would fall head over heels for him. If I would have known then what I know now, I would have stayed as far away as possible.
But Justin is a brilliant actor and I am very gullible.
The Justin that I fell for is not the Justin that I am with now. But oh god do I wish he was. I miss that Justin. My Justin. But he is long gone and I doubt he will ever come back.
I hear the garage door open and know that he is home. I brace myself for what is coming. I already know exactly how this will go. I turn over on my side so that I am facing the door. I pull the covers up to my chin and close my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I don't want to fight tonight. I am so sick of fighting.
I hear his heavy footsteps and can already tell that he is wasted. But I expected that. I hear him stumble into the room and I can spell the alcohol on him. He must have decided to really go hard tonight. He takes off his clothes and climbs into the bed in only his boxers.
"Liv? Baby? You awake?" He asks in a slurred whisper.
I stay still, not wanting to deal with him right now.
"Guess not. I love you baby. Really, I do." He says right before he passes out from all the alcohol that is in his system.
Those words may seem simple to you. We are a couple. He is my boyfriend. Typically boyfriends say those type of things to their girlfriends right?
Wrong. Well at least in Justin's case. The only time I ever hear him say that he loves me, the only time he ever calls me baby, is when he is drunk. Which these days is all the time. But sober Justin, well he couldn't give a damn.
And that is why I am broken. We are broken. Like I said, we are far from perfect.