I was standing at the airport hoping no one would see me, even I had sunglasses and a hat on, I was dying on anxiety because I didn't want any paparazzi to see me. That was another thing I could say thanks to my little sister for. She wanted to be famous. Why I had to?
"Hey, Chuck!" I heard from behind me.
"Hi, Lizzy..." I answered. Even the whole world called my sister Lana is was still my right to call her like that.
"How was your travel, Chuck?" She asked me.
"Well, there was a guy, like twelve years old talking really loudly but... Yeah, thanks for asking." When did I talk to her this polite?
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We arrived to the hotel room at 9 o'clock. Lana dropped her jacket off and sat down on her bed. My bed was on the other side of the room. She started talking - about how she huged her guitarist on stage because she was upset of breaking up with her boyfriend , or how a fan of her came to stage and singed with her, or how she got periods on her tour and her drummer got horny from it. It was interesting but I had my own life. I also had boyfriends, clients and periods...
For everyone who read this, tysm!! It matters a lot for me!! ❤