Five Days of Famous

Instead they continue to stand there, fidgety, twitchy, waiting for me to wrap this up so they can get on with their day.

“But I know you’re all busy, so…I guess I’ll see you at the live taping tonight.” I nod, forcing myself to smile as I gesture for them to leave. Watching as they push through the door and rush toward their cars, in such a big hurry to get back to their lives they don’t even think to say goodbye.





JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIES


Once again we hit it early on. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about this business, it’s that if you want to be taken seriously, you have to pretend never to be satisfied, so I insist on doing it again.

Also, I’m reluctant to say goodbye to Tinsley.

Especially considering how every time Ezer leaves the room, Tinsley looks like she’s relieved to finally have some time alone with me, even if the sound geeks are standing nearby.

But after another hour of redos, Ezer overrides me and calls it a wrap, claiming they have everything they need and that we should get some rest before tonight’s taping, since we’re broadcasting live.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” Tinsley asks as we make our way outside.

“Not at all,” I say, not entirely sure what she’s getting at. I mean, we tape a show almost every night. Why should this be any different. “Are you?”

“A little,” she admits, though the look on her face tells me it’s way worse than that. “There’s no way to hide a mistake when it’s live.”

I guess I hadn’t really thought of that. Still, it’s not worth getting worked up about.

“I’m afraid of doing something stupid that’ll end up going viral on YouTube. Especially since I’ve never had such a big part on your show.”

I’m surprised to hear her say that, since it seems like she’s always on set. But I guess by the time we’re done with all the hair, makeup, and wardrobe prep, not to mention trying to act real while following a script, I have no interest in watching it play out on TV to see what Ezer did in the edits.

“Don’t be nervous,” I tell her, trying to sound reassuring, even though I’ve got my own private concerns.

There’s only one day till Christmas.

One more day till my return ticket expires, along with any chance of returning to Greentree.

Even though I’ve decided to live out my life as an International Superstar here in Tinsel Hills, knowing I can never return to the old life is kind of a big deal. Especially after that botched family breakfast this morning.

“Guess that’s the difference between an amateur and a pro,” says Tinsley, flashing me a sideways glance as her mouth droops into an adorable frown. “Every time the camera’s on me, I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

“I used to feel that way.”

Her eyes narrow as though she’s not sure she believes it.

“But then someone reminded me that the audience just wants to be entertained and inspired, and it was my job to give it to ’em.”

A look of pure adoration washes over her face, like I’m some kind of god.

Which seems like as good a time as any to kiss her—except we’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk just outside a recording studio, with Sparks watching over us from his place beside the limo.

“So what now?” I ask, motioning for Sparks to wait.

“Ezer wants us to take it easy so we’ll be rested for tonight.” She takes on this dutiful, good-girl tone, but her expression tells me she’s up for something more exciting.

“Yeah, so where else could we do that—other than home?”

Her smile is sly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I’ve never been to Disneyland,” I say, remembering how the Pirates of the Caribbean ride has that one romantic spot with all the dim lights and fake fireflies. Or at least the one in Florida does.

“Seriously?” She seems shocked by the news.

“Yeah, I’ve been to Disney World,” I say. “Not Land.”

“So…you flew all the way to Florida to see a replica of what you could’ve seen just an hour down the freeway?”

I shrug like it’s no big thing. Like that’s just how I roll. Forgetting yet again she has no idea that I’m not really from here. Heck, most of the time I forget too.

She dismisses the idea with a wave of her hand. “If you’ve never been, you should really spend the whole day, because there’s so much to do. How about we go to the beach instead?”

It’s a brilliant idea. The weather is always so perfect; the beach in December is totally doable.

“It’s actually my favorite time of year.” She catches the end of her ponytail and twists it around in her fingers. “I like it better than summer. For one thing, it’s not nearly as crowded, and, I don’t know, I guess I feel kind of privileged to get to do things like that in the middle of winter when the majority of the country is knee-deep in snow.”

“Then it’s done.” I lead her to the limo and tell Sparks to drive us to the best beach he can think of.



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