I wrote a story one day.
There was a boy and a girl. He was gorgeous, of course. He was gorgeous and arrogant and cruel and absolutely perfect. She was plain, unassuming. They were strangers who became friends with a quick shot of cliché. They went through obstacles and trials set to destroy their friendship, but the bond only grew to love. When the line between lovers and friends was crossed, there was a final test of courage and determination. Then there was the happily ever after.
I had wanted to write a story about us, but that would not have been exciting at all. The male lead would be as plain and unassuming as the girl. There would be no fantastical plots of betrayal between friends, and each line of dialogue would be littered with obscene words and random one-liners that make no sense even in context.
There would be no star-studded nights with hands grasping at silky hair because the stars are always covered by clouds (and your hair is too saturated with gel, an