Prologue

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August 6, 2015

*Janessa's POV*

I was on an early-morning flight from Atlanta, Georgia to Jackson, Mississippi. I'd had a show in Atlanta on August 4, and my next show was in Jackson on August 6, which was later that night.

I was sitting on the plane right next to my manager, Oliver. He did everything for me and was always with me, unless I was on break, and even then he was sometimes with me.

When the flight landed in Jackson, I got off and went to get my luggage from the pickup. I grabbed my larger suitcase and my two smaller bags, along with my guitar case. After I walked out of the airport, I saw a limo waiting for Oliver and me.

The limousine took us to the hotel and dropped us off there. I grabbed my luggage and walked into the hotel.

Oliver checked us in, and I clicked on the button for the elevator. We were going to the nineteenth floor, the presidential suites. As we went up, Oliver began to tell me when we needed to leave the hotel for the venue of the concert.

I walked into the presidential suite, then made my way into one of the bedrooms. I laid my luggage on the bed. Oliver chose another room in the suite to be his bedroom.

I grabbed one of my smaller bags and took out the things I had for my bathroom. I put some clothes into the dresser that was set out in front of the bed. From my other small bag, I got out some things for the kitchen and took them out there, then pulled out some of my practice music and extra guitar picks, realizing I had very few. I put that with my guitar case and grabbed some clothes I had put in my second small bag.

I opened my large suitcase, and I was about to take the rest of my clothes out when I realized they weren't my clothes. They were male clothes. I knew it wasn't Oliver's things, because he didn't have a suitcase exactly like mine, and he wouldn't wear the clothes that were in my suitcase. Or was it my suitcase? I probably got the wrong suitcase... I looked through the suitcase and found an ID tag at the bottom, underneath everything.

"Ashton Fletcher Irwin," I read the card quietly to myself, "Date of Birth: July 7, 1994. Home Phone Number, Cell Phone Number, Address, E-mail Address. Wow."

I thought for a minute about who's luggage this was. I saw the home address was in Sydney, NSW, Australia. Usually, if you were from Australia, you wouldn't be flying from Atlanta to Jackson for a vacation. Once I thought about it for a minute, I remembered that he was the drummer from the band 5 Seconds of Summer. He must have my suitcase, too. If he was on the same plane as me, he should be around here somewhere in Jackson.

I decided that I would text him to see where he was. I got my phone out of my pocket and texted him. Soon after I sent the text, I heard a vibrating noise from in the suitcase. After I dug my hand in and found the source, I pulled up a phone that had just gotten a text message from my phone. Now I didn't know how I'd contact him to get my suitcase from him and to get his suitcase. to him. But who leaves their phone in their suitcase? I guess Ashton Irwin does.

~

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