A/N: This is my first reader insert! BTW, if you don't know, Y/N means your name, Y/F/N means your friend's name, and Y/N/N means your nickname. Enjoy!

          The bushes rustled behind me, and I let out an exasperated sigh. Ever since I'd started dating Jamie, I could barely step out of the house without being swarmed by the paparazzi. Even though my boyfriend wasn't a huge star, every so often a picture of us would show up in People magazine, usually criticizing his choice of girlfriend.

Lately it had gotten worse; apparently ragging on my looks wasn't enough for the tabloids, and they had started to accuse me of using Jamie for his fame and money. Specifically, in Star Magazine, one columnist had written a whole page about how I was apparently spending all his money, and cheating on him on the side. As if--I loved Jamie with all my heart, and I'd never even thought about his income before. Besides-when we first met, I hadn't even realized who he was--he bumped into me at Rockefeller Center, and we went sprawling across the ice. After chewing him out for a full minute, I finally realized who he was-and was mortified. However, despite the fact that I had nearly killed him with brute force and words, he asked me out for coffee, and the rest is history. Needless to say, accusing me of using him was pretty far-fetched. I had kept the magazine in my bedside table, without showing it to Jamie. It was just a terrible reminder of why we shouldn't be together.

Now, I sat on the park bench, listening to the whispers of the photographers who thought that they were oh-so-quiet and sneaky. Rolling my eyes, I got up from my rather comfortable seat and made to leave. But before I did, I turned around halfway, and spoke in the general direction of my stalkers.

"Ya know, why don't you just save yourself the trouble of continually stalking me without success, and sneak back to your trashy magazine headquarters or wherever it is you call work. And why not make up a couple more nasty things about me while you're at it-I don't know, that I'm secretly part vampire and am plotting to kill him? That'll make the cover!"

I paused, since my anger was taking over me, and clouding my judgement.

"Anyway, I'm sick of you, so just bugger off, okay?"

I stormed out of Central Park, and decided to walk all the way back to our apartment instead of taking a taxi.
Forty minutes later, I was stomping up down our hall, only to find our mail lying outside the door. I usually toss it all on the counter, but this time, a particular magazine cover caught my eye. Not the headline- "Kim Kardashian To Name Second Baby South?"-no, the smaller story in lower right hand corner. The one claiming (essentially) that I was an evil gold digger who was stealing Jamie's money and cheating on him at the same time.

Up until right about now, I had managed to blow off all the gossip-all my friends and Jamie had told me to ignore it, and I had-but this pushed me over the line and I broke. I fumbled with my keys in the doorknob, my vision starting to be clouded by a few tears. Angrily, I wiped at my eyes,and they were temporarily staunched.

Jamie would be home late from filming, so I knew I had a few hours to mull things over. After taking a hot shower, I changed into some sweatpants and a henley top, pulling my hair into a messy braid. I got the kettle boiling, and attempted to distract myself with Doctor Who, but my mind kept going back to the magazine. I couldn't shake the despicable lies from my head, and I knew I had to before I began to believe them.

Jamie always told me to ignore the tabloids, saying they just made up anything that would get them a story, and a paycheck, and I really tried to listen to him-but this time, something was different. This time, something inside me snapped in two, and I finally realized that if I stayed with Jamie, I would only bring him scandal (however fake), and too much unwanted attention.

Even though I had already changed into loungewear, I knew I couldn't wait until morning. I had to leave tonight, before Jamie returned and could convince me to stay.

I sped all around the apartment, hastily throwing my things into a huge suitcase; I couldn't risk leaving anything behind, because coming back was not an option. But when I got to the photo albums, I stopped. Looking through the pages, memories came flooding back to me, and I felt those annoying tears pricking at the corners of my eyes again. Once again, I tried to wipe them away, but more came, staining the photos on my lap. 

Pictures of the two of us on our trip to London filled up an entire album-and that was just the beginning. There was one of us eating ice cream and grinning at each other. Another depicted us with Y/F/N and her boyfriend Liam at Disney World--Liam had his arm wrapped lovingly around Y/F/N's shoulder, and Jamie was kissing my cheek. 

The next one, however, made the dam of tears in my eyes burst, and soon I was straight-out sobbing. It had been taken about a year ago, on our group camping trip. We were sitting on a bridge over a small river, the sun setting in front of us, and we were kissing. Y/F/N had snuck up behind us with her camera, and sneakily snapped a few pictures of us.

I was so wrapped up in looking at the pictures and crying, that I didn't hear the door open, or the footsteps coming in, until I heard someone call my name.

"Y/N?" I heard his light footsteps appear in the threshold, and he saw me crouched on the floor.

"Y/N!" He called, running to me. Then he noticed the clothes strew across the room, and my nearly full suitcase on the bed.

"Y/N/N....what's going on?" He sounded slightly scared, and for a moment I felt bad about what I was about to do--but I brushed off his arms, which were resting on my shoulders.

"I have to leave." I muttered, standing up and continuing my packing spree, jamming a pair of jeans into the bulging suitcase. Jamie rose, and followed me.

"Y/N/N....what are you...has something happened? Y/N, stop that! Talk to me! "I whirled around, and retrieved the offensive magazine from where it sat on top of my things. Whipping it at his chest, I spat back. 

"Here. Read it." You'll understand. I'm ruining your career-trust me, it's better this way." His expression turned to anger as he read it, and he threw the magazine on the ground in rage.

"That's bullshit! That's absolute bullshit, Y/N! You know these people just make things up-we both know!"

"Sure," I yelled back, angry annoyed that he didn't understand. "Sure, we know that I'm not like that, our friends and family know I'm not like that--but THE REST OF THE WORLD doesn't! to them I'm the gold digging jerk who's using your money and cheating on you on the side! I'm wrecking your image, and I can't bear it! I can't let you be brought down because of me-you deserve some rich, gorgeous singer who no one will ever accuse of misusing you!

I slammed the lid of the suitcase down, and sank to the floor, sobbing. Jamie was at my side in a flash, and he gently cupped my face in his palm, turning me to face him. With his thumb, he wiped a tear from my cheek, and spoke softly. 

"Y/N/N.....listen to me. I. Love. You. I love you because you aren't like the movie stars. You aren't obsessed with image, you just want to look your best, and I respect that. And I can do anything I want with you-I can go to the crappiest restaurant in town, or go see stupid movies. You love me for me. With you, I'm not Rock Star Jamie, or Heartthrob Jamie, or even Movie Star Jamie--I'm just Jamie. Just your Jamie."

He paused, and ran a hand through his curly hair. 

"Look, if you want to leave, I won't stop you. If you're unhappy, I want you to do what you need to do to be happy--but just know that I love you too much to let something like this come between us." He got up to leave, and I turned back to my suitcase.

This was why I was hoping Jamie wouldn't come home early-his words had only made me feel more conflicted. I wanted desperately to stay with him, but at the same time, I knew I should leave, for both our sakes. But his face when I'd told him I was leaving......I couldn't shake it out of my head, and I realized that if I was having so much trouble going through with this, it was worth it to stay and try to work out the paparazzi issue. Quietly, I padded out to the main room of the flat, where Jamie was sitting slumped over at the kitchen island, cradling a beer. 

"Jamie?" I called softly, and he jumped slightly.

As I approached him, I noticed his look of relief that I wasn't carrying my suitcase, I took his hand reassuringly, and squeezed it. 

"Jamie...." I started, hoping I could convey what I was feeling in an understandable way. "Jamie.....I love you. I can't even describe how much--but I can't imagine not being with you, and I can't just let some stupid tabloid writers break us apart."

As I spoke, a goofy smile appeared on Jamie's face, and before I could continue, his lips were on mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, as his came to rest on my waist. I kissed him like there was no tomorrow, running my hands through his hair, and he sat me up on the countertop. I began tugging at his long golden locks, and he let out a moan, making me smirk with pleasure. The kiss grew more passionate, and desperate, as Jamie ran his hands up and down my back.  At long last, we pulled away for a much-needed breath of air.

"Yeah, I definitely couldn't survive without that every day." Jamie said as he pulled me closer, holding me in his arms. "C'mon. I'll help you unpack, and then we'll order Chinese and watch Sherlock."Pecking him on the lips, I replied smiling; "And this is why I love you." The End