"We're going to Disneyland!" I scream, squeezing my eyes shut as if closing my eyes will make every ride look even more exciting. I haven't been here for years, not since Miley's sixteenth birthday party, and that was... wow. That was, like, five years ago. I grin like a maniac to myself, feeling Ed's shoulder pressed up against mine.
"I cannot possibly believe that you've never been to Disneyland before," Claire exclaims, laughing. She looks horrified at the same time as happy. I met her through my Keds campaigns and photoshoots, and we've been close friends ever since. Ed blushes the same colour as his hair.
"Well, there's no Disneyland in England."
"I know, and it's stupid," Caitlin pipes up from the end of the limo. She is shoved in between Amos, Grant and the Starlights, my back-up singers. She looks almost depressed to hear Ed's sad story.
"We are about to make your life," someone announces. It sounds like Paul, but I can't tell, because on the other side of Ed, Claire is blasting a random pop song from her phone on full volume. I smile hysterically again as she bops and dances to the music- she may be a model, but when she dances... she's almost as awful as I am. Not exactly graceful, anyway.
"Which land are we going to first?" Yells Amos from the back, like a little kid. I love that even though we're all adults in The Agency, we're still crazy and stupid no matter what.
"I vote Fantasyland!" Michael screeches.
"No way, I wanna go to Toontown," Claire protests.
"What the hell are all these places?" Cries out Ed, clearly lost. The limo explodes into laughter. And in this way, we are one. We are an enormous, diverse group of crazy, wild people. But in the end, we're all one and the same.
I lean over to Ed, my lips up to his ear, and whisper, "you'll like Adventureland the best." He smiles without looking at me.
There's a nervous energy in the car, electric and vibrant, like we are all on the verge of exploding from the excitement. I think that the planning is the best part. The anticipation, the lead-up to something is always better than the doing. But with Disneyland, it's different. Everything is better.
Slowly, I see the enormous castle coming into view out of the tinted windows. I press my hands to the glass with bloated cheeks. The swirling turrets spiral up and up, their peaks lost in pink morning clouds, and without a word I let the smile creep onto my lips. The chatter continues on and on behind me until Ed turns around, and squashes up his face against the window beside me. I look at him sideways and we both grin.
"Excited?" I whisper.
He says, "very."
And then suddenly, Claire sees the castle too, and with a shriek she announces to everybody in the limo (and possibly everyone in Los Angeles): "Holy shit, we're at Disneyland!"
I turn back around, smirking at her. "Classy."
And then we are underneath the sparkling archway and driving into a carpark that looks bigger than Disneyland itself. Our limo rumbles through the endless concrete jungle, towards a private, pay-for carpark that seems as distant as the sun setting across the horizon.
"This is the happiest moment of my life," Claire declares, absolutely certain of herself. Ed's booming laugh fills the car, bouncing off the walls and the dark glass around us.
"Not when you became a model or anything?"
"That doesn't even come close," she replies surely. And then we are under cover, and the driver slots a credit card into a pay machine, and we park, and we are in Disneyland, America.
I'm the first out of the car, brushing down my black shorts and struggling to hold in the excited scream bubbling up inside. I feel like a fizzed up Coca Cola bottle. I need somebody to unscrew my cap, so all my bubbles can explode and I can just burst.
Ed is beside me in a nanosecond. "Thank you for bringing me to the happiest place on earth," he says calmly. "But I have to go."
I am just about to ask him where on earth he's going when he bursts into a hardcore sprint, running faster out of the carpark than I ever suspected that chubby little ginger possibly could. He is screaming, showing complete disregard for the other citizens in the Happiest Place On Earth, and in that moment I have never been more grateful to have a friend like Ed.
People are still streaming steadily out of the limo behind me, saying things I don't really hear, or care about. And I don't stick around to hear them again.
I tear down through the packed carpark after the streak of orange up ahead, squealing like a little girl who's just been told they're going to Disneyland. Oh, how true that similie is. Ed hears me coming up behind him and then we are a flashback to last month, where we ran down the streets past fuzzy cars and arrived fashionably late to soundcheck.
God, he's awesome.
So instead of waiting for anybody else, we run and run and run, not speaking to eachother, not really even looking at the other person. We are just electric zaps of lightning zipping through the grey carpark. And then we run until we run out of breath, and sit down in the open carpark on the curb, laughing and choking and gasping to catch our breath.
"We're at Disneyland," Ed wheezes, clutching his stomach. Even though he can barely breathe, he still finds the energy to smile. And sluggishly, we watch the cars roll in as we wait for the rest of our crowd to join us.
I can never understand how I ended up with someone as incredible as Ed for a friend. Him and I are not twins, and we are not polar opposites, but I feel like we are two jigsaw pieces that have always belonged together. I've never met someone as sincere as him, someone who actually cared about me and didn't just want to get in my pants. True friendship isn't being accepted as a dork by someone; it's being a dork, together.
Ed lies flat on his back, his feet just touching the road, the rest of his body sprawled across the sidewalk outskirting Disneyland's carpark.
"I feel like more than a letter."
"What?" I lie down beside him with my back against the concrete, and turn to face him, my eyes on his. His eyes that stare towards the skies.
"I mean, sometimes I just kind of feel... irrelevant. Like I'm just a letter, another of the random letters in the alphabet. Sometimes it even feels bad enough for me to feel like an 'x' or a 'z'." The space between his eyebrows crinkles into a starburst as he frowns. "Is that stupid?"
I shake my head as much as I can whilst against the concrete. "No, I know what you mean. I guess there are so many letters to remember that some of them just feel insignificant, right?"
He nods ever so slightly, his palms to the clouds.
"Well, you know what? You're an E. And E is the most used letter in the entire alphabet."
He smiles then, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his legs like a cold little boy. I sit up with him so we're both on the same level. "See what I mean? You make me feel significant."
"Significance doesn't matter," I promise. "We aren't measured in significance. We aren't measured at all. We're just loved."
This deep, meaningful conversation feels like it belongs on a windowseat at midnight, or on the rooftop of a hotel, or in the front seats of a car on a roadtrip in the rain. But our intelligent souls instead spend their days talking outside of Disneyland, on pathways to castles and our own childhood fantasies. I smile to myself as the rest of the group comes thundering towards us, weaving through the carpark. This situation is almost laughable.
"Jesus, for a chubby little ginger and a ten-foot giraffe, you two sure can run fast," jokes Caitlin. I smile back at her as we walk down the sidewalk, backpacks and handbags swinging.
We all talk about stupid things to fill the time, just more irrelevant letters strung into sentences. Amos, Paul and Grant all want to go on the Haunted Mansion ride first, but the Starlights are urgent to check out all of the princess castles. Ed doesn't know what the hell exists beyond the gateways of heaven, so he can't say much, and I can't either, because I can't possibly decide.
Yet somehow, half an hour later, we find ourselves waiting in line for the most unlikely adult ride in all of Disneyland. The Spinning Teacups. It's only Claire, Caitlin, Ed and I, because we're the losers that couldn't stomach 'Space Mountain' straight up. Amos, Grant, Michael and Paul are probably already rocking and rolling through an eerie black hole.
"This better be good," teases Ed. "I don't want a liar as a best friend."
I poke my tounge out at him and waggle it, and he grins at me. All teeth and gums. I like Ed's smile; it makes me happy.
The worker in the control booth stops spinning the teacups already whirling around in front of us, and people trickle out, their faces all bright and beaming.
"How can you go wrong with spinning teacups?" Caitlin exclaims as she clambers into the first one she sees- a huge pink teacup with a rose painted on the side.
"You just did," Ed sighs theatrically. "I personally wanted the orange teacup with the flames, but whatever." I giggle quietly and shove him over, a playful push. He shoves me right back.
"What was that for?" He cries out, and I laugh out loud as he takes a seat beside me in our teacup. We're seated in a circle that goes: Caitlin, Claire, Ed, Taylor, right around in an infinite ring.
Slowly, the teacups groan into a very jerky, gradual start, and much like the ride, Claire lets out a dramatic moan. "Ugh. Can't this ride go any faster?"
And sure enough, it can. The control booth worker cranks the gears, and the plate the teacups are on starts turning faster and faster. It's still not bad; until Caitlin starts spinning the wheel in the middle.
"Hell, wait up!" Ed exclaims, but it's too late. We are spinning, on the plate and in the teacup and in our heads, whirling around and around in an endless circle, laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. Everything is a blur, and my ponytail whips me across the face, but I can still make out Ed, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open.
"Who knew teacups could be so awesome?" He shrieks, his lips stretching into an enormous smile, and I laugh out loud as we twirl around and around.
"You're from England, aren't you?"
As we stagger off the ride, grinning, I realize that I've never actually been so lucky in my life. I'm so fortunate to have everything I've ever dreamt of, but it's insane to just think, "I'm a world-famous superstar, in Disneyland, with my best friends."
I smile and laugh and wrap my arms around Claire's neck, and her loose hair lashes across my face, but I don't care. "I am so happy," I exclaim. Standing outside of the spinning teacups, with everybody watching. I really, truly am.
We head towards our meeting place outside of Cinderella's castle, and when we spot the Starlights, we see they're already done.
"We took a selfie with Sleeping Beauty!" Exclaims Melanie, and I smile back at her. They all look so happy to be here. Just like me.
"You know, I think I should try out all the kid's rides now," Ed murmurs thoughtfully. He strokes his imaginary beard with his fingers. "Which ones start with E, by the way?"
I blush, scooping out the map from my pocket that I collected on the way in. "Well, uh... there's only one." I squash it flat out on the concrete, with the sun beating down on my back, and trace all the winding pathways of Disneyland to the single E ride. "Enchanted Tiki."
Ed winces. "That doesn't sound so great. Maybe we should try..."
"Toontown!" Squeals Claire excitedly, as if visiting Mickey Mouse's Clubhouse is the most important part of the entire themepark. Smiling, I shake my head.
"I don't want to go there, but maybe someone else will." Sure enough, two of the Starlights pipe up and join Claire in her visit to Mickey Mouse world. They dance off straightaway, since they'll have more than one ride to go on, and Ed, Caitlin and I stay behind to wait for the others.
Caitlin comes and bobs down beside us, tracing the map with her finger. "The Rockin' Rollercoaster sounds good."
"I've never been on a rollercoaster," Ed admits casually, and then we both spin on him, wearing identical masks of shock.
"Never?" I exclaim, horrified. Ed has lived for twenty-two years, and not once in his enormous life has he ridden a rollercoaster. How could he be denied such a simple pleasure of life? "Well, that settles it. As soon as the boys get back, I'm taking you to the Rocking Rollercoaster."
And when Grant, Amos, Paul and Michael get back, they all make their own decisions too. Michael wants to go on a different rollercoaster, so one of the two remaining Starlights treks off with him, leaving six of us for the 'Rocking Rollercoaster'. Grant is booming with excitement.
"Space Mountain was freaking awesome!" He exclaims, although his language is not quite as classy. "Taylor, you've got to try it."
I laugh. "Maybe later. I mean, we need to give Ed all the rollercoasters we can!" Ed looks sheepish, and his cheeks flush almost the same shade of red as his hair. He gives me another friendly shove, and I smile.
*
"Oh my God, I have to Tweet that," I gasp when I see the photo of Ed and I on the Rocking Rollercoaster. The woman behind the photobooth counter looks starstruck, but she's too polite to ask for a photo or autograph. I decide that I absolutely have to buy the photo.
"How much is the medium version?" I ask, with Ed standing beside me. The woman manages to stammer out the price, and I scoop my wallet out of the pocket of my shorts to search for a note. When I've slapped my money down, a printer behind the woman spits out our picture in electric colour, and I have it.
"Thank you so much," I say gratefully. "Have a nice day!"
Grant and the boys meet us outside the photobooth, and they laugh upon seeing the photo. It's an amazing shot; I'm screaming my head off as we go down the big drop, and beside me Ed is pulling a sour face, like he's just bitten into a lemon.
"How much did that cost?" Michael asks with a laugh.
"Priceless," Ed shrugs, and I look over to see his face. He looks happy. Just like me.
"So where to now? We should be able to fit, like, one more decent ride in before the girls get back from Kiddy Central," Amos teases. Beside him, Paul announces that he wants to do the railroad coaster, their third rollercoaster today. All of them agree to it, and then they're just waiting on Ed and I. I let Ed make the decision for us.
"What do you think?" I ask, and he shrugs.
"I kind of just want to do something low key for a while. I'll be happy to do something insane again, in like, ten minutes." He smiles, and Grant nods in fierce agreement.
"Okay then. We'll see you two at Cindy's castle at twenty past?"
"Sure," I confirm, and then the boys all race off to find their next thriller. It's amusing to watch a band of men in their twenties and thirties take on ride after ride after ride; maybe, when I chose the Agency members, I chose the little kids of the world to support me.
"So, what low-key ride do you want to try now? I recommend Toontown with Claire and Mickey," I grin. He blushes again, a little embarassed.
"I kind of... well, I wanted to try one of those carnival games."
"What?"
"You know. Those stupid ones, where you shove the ball down the clown's mouth and win a balloon or whatever. Or you shoot the target and win a stuffed bear." Ed looks almost ashamed to want to take part in such a childish activity, but as soon as he suggests it, I leap to the opportunity.
"Oh my God, yes! I love those! Let's go," I exclaim, and without another word, I am dragging him down the pathways towards the nearest carnival game.
We don't have to walk far. There's a cabin-like wooden structure up ahead, and inside, the walls are decorated with stuffed horses and frogs and dogs and all animals alike. Even better, it's only a coin donation to play. Ed pays before I even get the chance to find a single cent, and when I look up, he has a gun.
"Jesus, don't shoot me," I exclaim quickly, and he laughs. The man behind the counter watches with beady eyes, trying to find a loophole for when Ed wins. Carnival game workers are always like that. You can't win, because the rules are everchanging.
I hear the click of a trigger, and then there is a small dart from the gun barrel piercing the inner ring of the target. It says Ed has just scored a seven out of a possible ten, and he only has three turns. The man squints at the target, as if he is trying to find a way to reduce Ed's score.
Bang! His next shot fired lands an almost perfect nine, and suddenly, it looks like Ed could win something big. I pump my fist into the air like I've just won an award. "Wooh! Yeah, Ed!" This earns me a very dirty look from the booth worker.
Then Ed is lining up his very last shot, squinting to match up his aim exactly with the target. He squeezes the trigger ever so slightly, and then he has fired. The dart has stabbed a flawless ten, a mark the carnival game man has no power in changing. Wearily, he makes a show of applause, pretending to care that Ed has won instead of crying because of it.
"Well done," he says in a monotone. "That's twenty-six points. Take anything with the label twenty-six or under on it."
Along the wooden wall, there are toy cars and balloons and dolls and jelly hands and teddies all lined up like birthday presents just waiting to be unwrapped. Ed's score allows him to pick almost anything up there, but he doesn't seem to know how to decide.
He turns around to look at me, as if I can make up his mind for him, but then he squints off into the distance, and his face goes pale. When I spin around, I can't find anything that might have upset Ed. All I see are knots of people.
There's a pregnant woman ushering around three kids and a baby in a stroller- I feel sorry for her with such an enormous family. I make out a cute couple nearby, one with purple streaks in her ebony hair, one with a black fedora on his head, but from this angle they have no faces. They look toward me, and the man points, maybe noticing who I am, which brings a smile to my face. In the distance, there's a punk man with a scarlet mohawk, lapping at a vanilla ice-cream like a dog. I see no problem here, so I turn back.
The worker is applauding tiredly again, and Ed is handing me an enormous, fluffy white stuffed bear. He grins as it envelopes me, its fuzzy paws wrapping around my neck, and I smile.
"For you," he says. When I pull it off me to give it a proper look, I see it's a panda bear, patched with black spots and a happy little smile. I grin at Ed.
"Really? Thank you, Ed," I say gratefully. It feels like one of those gifts, one that seems so stupid but feels so sweet. He shuffles from foot to foot, blushing.
"It feels cheesy." He glances over my shoulder again, at nothingness, and I choose to ignore it.
"What's wrong with cheesy?" I giggle, and then I drop the panda to my feet and throw my arms around Ed's neck. The hug lasts longer than it should, because he won't let go, and when I finally wriggle away I'm laughing.
"What are you gonna call it?" Ed enquires curiously, and I think it over, names streaming through my mind. I want to call it something cute that will always remind me of Ed. Ted would be cute, because it's both of our names mushed together. I grin to myself.
"Ted," I say. I don't need to explain. Ed smiles, a real smile, one that makes me glow inside. "Thank you for the cheese, by the way."
To anyone else, this would sound strange. But Ed and I are electric. We are two crossed wires, and when our paths overlap, our energy is stronger and so much more powerful. We understand eachother, and we work together. He shines all his teeth at me. "My pleasure."
*