FanfictionWriter101

I have an interesting story to tell. A strange story, but interesting nonetheless. I’m friends with Katy Perry, hard to believe, but the truth. Most people find it more difficult to imagine that she even has friends, even less so that she would have friends like me. I was a childhood friend first, before the grandiose of fame came about and took her to higher places, whilst I remained below. But friends nonetheless. She and I have always been close and the boundless riches that she gained have resulted in no real change in our relationship other than in making one of our games have higher stakes. See, she and I have a constant running bet. Every now and again, we’ll challenge each other to do something. Started with us betting each other a fiver to do something ludicrous; flash ourselves in a crowded bar, steal something, and the such. Nothing big, but bold nonetheless. Whilst she offered to bet more money as she got richer, I refused, and it became more a playful thing than anyth...

“So, Emma, it’s been seven years since you left the character of Hermione behind. What kind of misadventures do you think she would have been getting up to in that time?” The interviewer asked, taking Emma by surprise as a grin etched itself across her face. Of course, she had already intimately imagined what her character of Hermione would be getting up to, and naturally, her imagination would have rendered the entire interview completely inappropriate. But, it was that question that had prompted Emma to organise a long overdue girl’s night, because, unbeknownst to the public, the leading ladies of the Harry Potter franchise had more secrets that one could imagine.             Being a child actress can be difficult. It’s a rather laborious lifestyle and having those early relationships can be difficult. Which is why, by the age of sixteen, Evanna Lynch, Bonnie Wright and Emma Watson had taken comfort in each other and dev...

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“So, what exactly is my job?” I asked tentatively as we rounded up and into the large Hollywood Estate, the car grinding to a halt as I eyed up the empty windows. The man driving didn’t offer anything in response, only bundling me out of the back of the limo and up to the front door step, upon which he sped swiftly away, leaving me standing there aimlessly. Knocking on the door, I heard a conversation cut off sharply before a suited man with a clipboard answered the door, happily gesturing for me to follow.             “Good, good… You’re here. Perfect. We’ve already started, but we haven’t gotten around to filming your stuff, so don’t worry,” the man said, ducking In and out of our conversation to mutter things into his headset. We sped swiftly through the house, clambering up a short flight of stairs and past a myriad of empty boxes and crates, some having filming equipment inside whilst others had a couple strewn bras a...