(Chapter 9)

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 Room 12’s bathroom window was still open.

I slid through as quietly as I could, crash landing on the cold floor. Shit. So much for the whole “silent” thing.

Thank god the guy seemed to have gone. I picked up the clothes from the floor – they were there, exactly as I’d left them. I pulled off Daniel’s T-shirt quickly, but I couldn’t help but smell it. It smelt like him.

What the hell was I doing?

I got changed and pulled the wig on, and I was about to leave, but I kind of felt curious – I mean, who was this guy who saw me naked? I tiptoed from the bathroom, into the bedroom. Yep, someone was definitely living here – there were clothes strewn across the floor and bed in the way that decorated every single teenage boy’s room. I tried to find a photograph, anything, but there wasn’t anything personal there. At all.

“How did you get in my room?”

Shit.

My head snapped up to look at the guy’s eyes – the guy who’d seen me naked and could probably expose me…and it was Tyler Anderson. The hottest singer in the world, the most talented, and the most wanted. He was my idol.

But he stood there, glaring at me. Why do my idols all hate me? He looked like he was intruded on, or something. Right. Because him seeing me naked so did not count as intrusion.

“The window,” I mumbled, biting my lip.

“Get out,” he yelled, opening the door, and pointing me away. Then I got mad. I got really mad.

“Look!” I screamed. “I’m really embarrassed, okay? You just saw me naked in there, and I –”

I stopped, when his face went all weird and shocked.

“That was you in there?” he said, his eyes wide. “You’re a girl?” SHIT! He didn’t know?!

“No!” I said, quickly, turning red. Damn. “I was kidding! It was a joke! Haha!”

His face was still all pale, and he walked up to me, slamming up against a wall.

“Now that I see you…” he muttered. Bloody hell, was he close. I could see every feature of his face – a face worth millions of dollars. It was perfect. Way too perfect to be fair. “You do have a very feminine face…and your…”

He reached up, and before I could stop him, he pulled off the wig, and my glossy curls fell down, around my head, reaching past my shoulders.

“You really are a girl,” he muttered, and I bit my lip, and before I could stop them, tears formed. I was just so bloody tired from everything – keeping up this pretence, tracking my lies, and for what? Some crappy movie?

“Please don’t tell anyone!” I yelled, grabbing the front of his shirt, and looking into his grey eyes. He was so tall – 6 foot, at least, I had to crane my neck to look at his pretty face properly. “I’m begging you; I really can’t let this go out! If anyone knows, then it’s all over, and I’m fired! PLEASE?!”

He looked kind of startled.

“What…? I wasn’t really going to tell…I just…was surprised, that’s all.”

“Oh,” I said, letting go of his shirt. “Thank you.”

Awkward silence.

“Anyways!” I said, turning away. “I have to go. If you could give me my wig back…”

“Oh, right,” he said, handing me back the wig. “Here you go.”

I smiled, and shoved it on, tucking my hair back in quickly.

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