x. once upon a rowling

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  • Dedicated to to all my readers
                                    

A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER I'M GOING TO CRY. Wow, I can't believe this *cue lame thank you speech* I would like to thank everyone who read this story, I love you guys a lot. I never imagined it to get this many reads/votes/comments you guys are amazing okay. I would also like to thank Harry Potter because even though you are a fictional character this story would have never been born without you. 

Warning: I suck at endings so this chapter is going to suck I'm so sorry. Hope you guys enjoy (kinda) and that you vote and comment and leave me your final thoughts on this story! 

- farah

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            “Where are we going again?” I ask for the 50th time.

            “Why would I go through all this trouble blindfolding you if I were going to tell you?” Mason replies, and we keep walking along which I assume is a concrete sidewalk. There isn’t much noise around us so immediately rule out restaurant or anything to do with people.

            This would be so much easier if the asshole could tell where we are going.

            Our hands intertwine and Mason is practically running now. “We’re almost there!” he yells. I find myself running as well while I pray to God I don’t trip, and then suddenly he comes to a stop.  “There it is.” Mason takes off my blindfold.

            It’s a random swing set in the middle of a forest, well it wasn’t really a forest more like an unused park.

            “What is this place?” I finally ask. I feel like I should be excited or something because Mason seems so happy over a swing set and I can’t figure out why.

            “I used to come here as a kid, this was my like sanctuary you know? This place I can get away for a little while.”

              Now I get it, we are in Mason’s hometown for spring break because he really wanted to show me where he grew up and these past few days Mason has been going through memory lane. I also got the chance to meet his father who just happens to be the sweetest man to exist ever.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 “So… a swing set huh? What exactly did you do here? Besides swinging.”

            “I may or may not have used to read Harry Potter books up here.” He blushes a bit, he seems to do that a lot when he mentions Harry Potter, I’m just glad it isn’t the main topic of our conversations anymore. “Believe it or not Libby I wasn’t always the ladies’ man I am now.”

            “Now that is something I can believe.”

            “Whatever,” he replies as he kisses me on the cheek. “Are we going to swing or not?”

                           

            “I bet I can go higher than you.” I immediately start swinging; I forgot how competitive I was when it comes to things like this. When it comes to games of any kind, I will kick ass.

            “You won’t be saying that in a minute.”

            “Winner has to pay for dinner.” I say.

            “Well looks like I’m getting a free meal tonight.”

*****

            “Okay you totally cheated.” I take a bite into my taco, which sadly I had to pay for. Mason ended up swinging so high that the swing set almost broke apart.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              “Free tacos are the best tacos.” He gives me a sly smile.

            The rest of the evening we walk around the downtown a bit and Mason tells me different stories about each the buildings we passed by. It must be strange to grow up in a small town and know every little thing about it. I know a lot about London, but not to the extent Mason knows about his town. Our hands intertwine and walk in silence for a bit. Then Mason suggests we go get some ice cream.

            “Sadly, I can’t,” I reply. “I have this script due as soon as we get back and I haven’t even started it.”

            “What do you have write about this time?” He asks. One of the many things I love about Mason, is how attentive he is about my studies, I try to listen in when he talks about computers and such of course I fail every time.

            “I have to write a scene about my life or something like that. It sounds so douche-y to sit there and write about yourself like your life has some special meaning no one else’s has.”

            “Well I think your life is great. I’m in it.” He teases and then gives me a kiss on the cheek. A blush creeps upon my face, and I hope Mason doesn’t notice it. “I even have a great title,” he continues. “Once Upon a Rowling.”

            “My life is not a fairy tale story. “

            “It can be.” He states. “Why must you always trash my ideas?”

            “Because you’re Mason and I’m me. That’s how it works.” We finally reach Mason’s house, it a small petite house that Mason isn’t very proud of, but I think it’s amazing. His dad is fast asleep on the couch as Mason and I quietly make out ways upstairs.

            “Do you have to write that paper tonight?” He whines. “I was hoping we could watch a movie.” He wraps my arms around my waist and pulls me closer. I could smell taco/ice cream breath, but I don’t care. He kisses me, and if Mason is trying to persuade me not to do my paper, it’s working.

            “I can’t.” I finally say as our lips pull away.

            “Ugh, fine.” He groans. “I’ll just be a loner tonight then.”

            “Have fun!” I make my way into the guest room and pull out the paper with the information on my script.

            Write a script about any moment in your life, must contain up to 30 minutes of dialogue.

            Suddenly I realize that life isn’t just one big story that starts from the beginning to end. In life we have multiple endings, and multiple beginnings. Humans aren’t stories, or even scripts we are filled with multiple stories that each have their beginning or their end.

            I pull up a word document and title it:

            The Perks of being a Rowling

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