tu mamita. ebc.

uno.

"mija, wake up. we're here."

i yawn loudly, stretching my legs out wide as i look outside the compacted window at the planes wing and runways on the ground blinking back at me.

"bienvenida a madrid, sleepy girl." one of my managers whisper, patting my leg lightly.

i pull my hoodie over my head and get up to grab my backpack from the overhead bin.

the side door opens and allows us to exit onto the dark runway, being lit by several red lights on the ground.

"what a long flight." i tell, grasping my pillow  pet in my right arm and fixing my hair into a high bun in the other.

"eran siete horas, you just slept the entire time." she laughs, pulling her luggage behind her.

"siete" i whisper to myself, glancing at my phone: reading 2:49am.
"i can already feel the jet lag settling in." i sigh

we arrive at the baggage claim to the sight of adoring fans outside the window, i couldn't believe people actually cared enough about me to come and visit at nearly 3 in the morning.

i grabbed my luggage and went outside, along with my managers, my production team. my bodyguard followed closely behind me, incase i was to encounter a super fan that would possibly eat me alive.

i pretended to seem awake and took pictures with about 30 people, recording videos and laughing as they told me their stories, unknowing that mentally: i was asleep.

*

i awake a whole whiles later in the hotel room to the sound of rustling curtains and am blinded by the light of the sun seeping into my eyes.

"tu artista esta aqui, wake up lu."

"the shoot is at 5, mary." i whine into my pillow, sounding like gibberish to them probably.

"it's already 12 luna. levantate." mary shouts tossing the pillow in my face and whips off the blanket.

we attempt to get ready and make it in time for the shoot. jet lag still coursing through my veins, i can't help but fall asleep at any moment i can. maybe in the middle of a photo shoot wasn't a good idea.