Grabbing handfuls of your hair, you struggle to scribble down meaningless lyrics onto a sheet of paper, trying to make sense of them.

The talent show is coming up, and you cannot disappoint. It’s the most exciting event at Hollywood Arts! Despite the significance of this event, you simply cannot think of lyrics. With a groan, you crumple up the piece of paper into a ball and throw it onto the ground behind you.

Then, you feel the ball come right back at you, hitting the back of your head. You jump, is someone trying to kill you? Maybe that would be better, you think, then you don’t have to write stupid lyrics. You turn around to find a sight for sore eyes, Tori Vega. She’s your best friend, which doesn’t help the fact you might have a crush on her.

“Littering’s bad, you know.” She says with a grin, pulling up a chair beside you. She rests her elbow on the desk, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. “Writer’s block?” She shoots up a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, completely understanding the situation you’re in.