nine.

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Whitney and I got on the plane at about 6:45am that morning. We had luckily managed to not run into any fans...that is until we got situated on the plane.

"Oh my god! You're Whitney Scott and you're Addison! I'm a huge fan!" a little girl said. She couldn't've been over the age of 11.

"Yeah that's us," Whitney said.

She took the hint Whitney was trying to give her. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to be rude, it's just, Eminem is my hero, and see you guys here...I would hate myself if I didn't say hi," she explained.

"No worries!" I said. She said she had to go back to her seat, and shortly after that, Whitney and I fell asleep.

––

Back at the house, we found one clue.

Elevator.

Whitney was already upstairs. I walked to the elevator and obviously went in. There, I was him.

"Marshall?" I asked, wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me.

"Baby, I'm so glad you're home! Where were you?" he asked.

"Where was I? Where were you?! I missed you so much!" I yelled pulling him into a hug. I stood there in his embrace feeling safer than ever.

"I have a place to take you." Oh great.

––

"Addison wake up. Our plane landed," Whitney said. Our plane landed?

"We were never in Detroit?" Whitney gave me a confused look.

"Um, no?" Ahh. A dream.

A dream.

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