“Here, put this on,” I say as I toss you a scarf from the glove compartment of your grandma’s car. After a bit of arguing on your part, you finally put it over your head. We both crouch down in the seats as we pull out of the beach parking lot, careful to not let any of the paparazzi see us. Once we’re out of sight from them, I let out a sigh of relief.

You’re on vacation in LA with your family, and let’s just say it’s not going well for you. We met last night, after my band played for my PR girlfriend’s birthday party. I was leaving through the alley when I accidentally hit you with a door, and brought you with me so nobody saw. Long story short, when I tried to drop you off at your grandma’s house, the paparazzi were in your driveway, so I spent the night in the garage. I snuck out this morning, and went to the beach so I wasn’t caught sneaking back in my house at 7AM. You found me at the beach, and decided to lend me your car so we could drive around a little before I can go home.

You’re nothing like the other girls I’ve met. For starters, you hate me. Well, hate may be a strong word, but you definitely don’t like me. You only know who I am because your sister is obsessed with me and my band, which is why you were even at the party last night. You say things to me that everyone else is afraid to, which definitely gives my ego a harsh reality check. But all things aside, I like hanging out with you. When you’re not arguing with me for no reason, it’s like a vacation from being a celebrity, due to the fact that you’re just a normal girl.

“So, where should we go?” I ask.