A smile appeared on Jaime's lips when she rose out of bed that morning. It was Christmas Eve, she thought happily. Christmas Day and Christmas Eve were two of her favorite days when it came to holidays. There was joy and love on these two particular days that Jaime couldn't help but feel as if it were the best holiday out of the year.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she realized it was early in the morning. The clock she bought a year ago was still working like a charm, reading six in the morning. On any normal given day, Jaime would crawl back underneath the sheets and pretend she never woke up so early. On Christmas Eve, however, she couldn't pretend. She was happily awake and ready to start her day.

Kicking the sheets off her legs, she padded over towards her dresser and picked her baby blue robe up and wrapped it around her body. Jaime headed out into the kitchen, all plans on getting a cup of peppermint flavored coffee set on her mind. As she flitted in the kitchen mindlessly, she was oblivious to the man sitting on her couch.

As Jaime turned, her lips on the rim of her coffee mug, she finally noticed the man. Jaime shrieked, the mug slipping from her fingers. The coffee cup shattered, hot liquid splashing onto her feet. Jaime jumped back and let out a string of profanities.

The young man jumped up from his spot on the couch to help her. He picked up the glass pieces carefully and dropped them into the trash bin. The man then reached for the hand towel on the counter and patted the coffee-soaked floor.

“But you're-” Jaime couldn't finish speaking. She was still too shocked to form a proper sentence.

The man grinned at her, resembling a puppy. His tongue poked out, his eyes wide with excitement. He couldn't look happier.

“Naked!” she cried out.

To prevent anything from being seen, Jaime covered her eyes with her hands. Before she had shut her eyes and shield them to not see anything that shouldn't be seen, Jaime had seen his face for a sliver of a moment.

Although she couldn't be sure, it was a face she'd seen only once before. The tousled brown hair, the unforgettable blue eyes and the thin features... not to mention the grin on his face and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

It was insane of her to believe Louis Tomlinson was standing in front of her naked without a stitch on. The popular band-member was in England, was he not? According to the article Macy read last night, he was. So how could Louis-Freaking-Tomlinson be standing in front of her in the bare nude, grinning at her like a puppy?

Regardless of who he was, he could not stay naked.

“Stay right there,” Jaime instructed him, turning her back on him. Safely, she opened her eyes. “Don't you move, I'll be back with clothes.”

Her mind whirled with confusion as Jaime dug out a box of clothes from underneath her bed. In a haste, she'd shoved it underneath there hoping to never come across it again. Jaime thanked her lucky stars that she never threw Brian's clothes away. At last, they'd come in handy.

Jaime pulled out a pair of sweatpants, a pair of sneakers he'd left here and a plain t-shirt she figured would fit the guy. She set them aside as she dressed herself in a dark pair of jeans and a moss green cashmere sweater. In her haste, she grabbed a pair of black boots while throwing her hair into a messy, but doable, ponytail.

Without looking, she entered the kitchen again and threw the clothes and shoes at him.

“Put them on,” Jaime said harshly.

“Wha—what are these?” the guy asked, holding them away from him, a heavy English accent tainting his words.

Jaime panicked. “Please! Put them on your body, I don't want to see you naked!”

Although she had her back turned to him, her cheeks were burning and she felt embarrassed—she'd never stood in the presence of someone who was naked. And right now, she had a very naked popstar in her kitchen.

“Why? Is being naked frowned upon?”

“Yes!” Jaime cried out, resisting the urge to turn around to smack some sense into him. “It is frowned upon so will you please for everything that's Holy, put on those clothes!”

After that, she heard nothing but the sound of clothes being rustled and a zipper being yanked up. When she thought he was finished, she slowly turned around.

The second look at him confirmed her thoughts. This was indeed the famous Louis Tomlinson Jaime learned about the night before. Her cheeks were still flaming red as she glanced at the clothes on his body—they fit him well, especially the shirt. His expression didn't change much. He still wore a dopey grin on his face, only it was more controlled and the smile seemed to be meant for her.

Jaime rubbed the bridge of her nose before speaking.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Jaime kept her voice low and calm.

Her parents were still asleep in their bedroom and she didn't want them to be awake for this. Only harsh actions would be taken—which should have been taken the moment she saw Louis-Freaking-Tomlinson in the nude in her living room.

“Oh!” Louis suddenly chirped. “Right, I'm here for you.”

As if that answered my question... Jaime thought darkly.

“Why were you in my house, butt naked, and without permission? Technically I could call the police on you and have you arrested for breaking and entering.”

Louis frowned, a confusion expression crossing his features as if he didn't understand. “I was cold, I couldn't stay out there. Is it wrong to come in without permission?”

What is it with this guy? Did something drop on his head and make him forget everything he ever learned?

Jaime sighed loudly. “Yes, it's wrong. Now tell me why you are here.”

He perked up, bouncing on the ball of his heels like a child. “I told you, I'm here for you. I was sent by the Heavens to fulfill your wish.”

Her eyes narrowed, a harsh expression on her features as she stared at Louis critically. “What in the Hell do you mean?”

“Approximately 8:47 last night, you made a wish upon a star.” His dopey expression never faltered, even as his pitch rose a couple octaves to match a female's tone. “'I wish to have someone at my side this Christmas, someone to make me happier and to open my eyes to better and newer things'.”

A gasp escaped her lips as she stared at Louis in a new light.

Jaime froze in her spot as she replayed Louis' words over and over in her head. She had told absolutely no one about the wish, simply because it was a spontaneous, silly wish that she regretted afterward. Even Macy, one of Jaime's closest friends, didn't know about the wish.

“Fine,” she agreed. That part, she could believe. “Then explain to me why you look like a freaking popstar.”

“Oh, this face? The Heavens plucked it from your mind, I don't know who it belongs to.”

Jaime's cheeks darkened and she bolted for the house phone. She dialed Macy's number and pressed the phone to her ear. It rang four times before Macy answered with a growl.

“It's 6:23 in the morning. You better have a good reason to have woken me up,” Macy was never a morning person like Jaime. However, she was lethal and more ferocious than an angry mother bear woken from hibernation.

At that moment, Jaime didn't care how much trouble she'd be in with her best friend. She just needed answers.

“Random question. Do you happen to know where Louis Tomlinson is at right now?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, enough that it told Jaime how rare and odd her question must sound to Macy; Jaime never asked about her favorite band. There was not been a time when she ever inquired about them out of interest. In fact, Macy was positive that Jaime hated them.

“Uh, London. He's recording the next album with the rest of the band. Why are you asking?” Macy's tone of voice held suspicion.

“I'm curious. And are you sure he's in London?”

“Yes! That picture attached to the article was of that day. Seriously, what's going on? You never ask about One Direction or any of their members.”

“Nothing,” she told her. “Absolutely nothing. I'll see you tonight.”

With that, Jaime slammed the phone on the receiver.

A headache was forming in Jaime's head. She had to get used to the fact that her wish came true, and was standing in her kitchen. There were no other explanations for his knowledge of her wish, and how he could look like Louis Tomlinson while the real one was in London—recording music, as Macy said.

He had to be a replica. It was the only logical answer that Jaime could come to. After all, he did say he didn't know who he looked like—only that it came from her mind.

“I don't know what to do,” Jaime mumbled, rubbing her temples. “I have a freaking replica of a popstar in my own home and I don't know what to do. Someone help me or I'm going to go insane.”

“Do you think maybe I could get some new clothes?” she heard the replica say. “These sweatpants are getting itchy and uncomfortable.”

She chuckled. “If you're staying, then we might as well get you some new clothes for you. I don't think you'd like the rest of my ex's clothes if you don't like those. Come on, get those shoes on. We're going shopping.”

As Jaime threw him her dad's spare jacket and slipped on the boots she picked out earlier, she couldn't help but think of the real Tomlinson and how it would look if the replica was seen out in public.

Just as she fished the car keys from a bowl on the coffee table, she spotted a beanie and a pair of ray bans. They would have to do for now.

Jaime tossed them to the replica. “Wear these.”

It was nearing nine o'clock. The analog clock on the wall was ticking very slowly. The bags of clothes were hidden in Jaime's room the moment they got back from shopping, which was an adventure to say the least.

Charlie—the name Jaime had gotten around to calling the replica—looked like a kid in a candy store. It was as if he'd never seen a store before. He ran to the shopping carts first and demanded that Jaime push him inside it. Charlie fought with her on this, unusually stubborn about it. In then end, Charlie won and she had to ignore the stares that followed them.

He often plucked random shirts off the rack and stuck them inside the cart—or rather on his lap. Jaime often had to slap his wrist and tell him, like a kid, that he couldn't have everything he saw. She had money, but not nearly as much as Louis Tomlinson.

It wasn't long after that the subject of money came up and Jaime had to explain the process of it all to Charlie. He thought money was very stupid and pointless. Why there would ever be a need to have it was beyond him.

There was a point in the store when Jaime handed him twenty dollars and sent him on his way to buy anything he wanted—as long as it was twenty dollars and less. Truthfully, he was making her headache worse and couldn't stand to hear his endless babble any longer.

But now it was nine o'clock. The shopping trip was over, Charlie had changed into a more comfortable set of clothes—a red flannel and a washed out pair of jeans—and food had been shoved down their throats not long after they came home.

“What else are we doing today?” Charlie questioned.

For the last half-hour, Jaime had been washing the dishes they used to make themselves breakfast. Quietly, she set a plate into the sink and rinsed it off. She dried her hands with the towel that hung over the bar on the oven.

“Well, we are dying your hair black first. I think it'll help you look less like the real Louis Tomlinson and blend in more. We have to go to my grandparents for the afternoon, a yearly tradition, and then we're going to a Christmas party my best friend is hosting.”

“Is that the girl you called earlier?” Charlie asked.

She nodded. “Yes, why?”

“I was just wondering why called her,” he said, shrugging.

“You have the face of a popstar that belongs to a very popular band, One Direction. And she's one of their biggest fans. I assumed she'd know anything that had to do with them, including their whereabouts.”

“Oh,” he said, his expression turning thoughtful for a moment. Then, he looked up at me with a smile. “I suppose that's why you had me wear that hat and sunglasses and why we're dying my hair.”

I nodded my head. “Come on, lets dye your hair before my parents get up.”

Jaime snatched the box of hair dye from the table and motioned for Charlie to follow her down the hall and into the bathroom. 

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