Bad Press: Chapter 4

"Sorry, you're not on the list," The bouncer informed us as it was now Jessica and I's turn to be granted or denied access to Sycamore. 

"What do you mean that we're not on the list?" Jessica asked, not being able to comprehend his words. 

"Jessica, he's saying that we're not allowed in," I reiterated. "So I think we better leave now." I should have known better than to have suggest that idea. Jessica is one of those people that will never take no for an answer until her last dying breath. She'd probably say no to death if it was possible for her to do so. Okay, probably everybody would say no to death but I think that I've made my point clear enough for you. 

"I don't take no for an answer, you full well know this by now," She whispered, leaning over onto my side, balancing on one foot to do so. I'm just desperately hoping she doesn't lose her balance and we both make contact with the hard ground with only a thin royal purple carpet to break our fall, if it does us any justice at that, or more so me since I'll be the one on the bottom of the pile. 

"You're not on the list," The bouncer repeated in attempts to be rid of us since we're collectively thought of as a pest even though it's Jessica who's the primary source of the irritation. As you already know, I'm not one for clubs so not being allowed into one never seemed to faze me. Yeah, sometimes the rejection is a bit much but doesn't bother me because a majority of the time I didn't even want to go to the club in the first place. Usually after being rejected to one you don't try to get into another because your confidence level is lower than it should be and you're not as determined to get inside, but there are the few times where you are set to getting into a club no matter how long it may take or how hard you have to push. 

"Let's just go now, okay?" I brought up rather sternly to Jessica. A frown immediately came up on her face and she crossed her arms hopefully to have some extra effect. 

"Use your YouTuber card, please?" She begged, wanting nothing more than to get into the club. I don't really see why. I mean, yeah it would be pretty awesome to possibly bump into Dalton Bentley but the chances of that actually happening are very minute so I'm not letting that get to me, mainly so I don't need to face rejection because rejection just flat out sucks. 

"Why?" I questioned. "It's not like I actually want to get into this trashy club."

"Hey!" The bouncer shouted, obviously having heard what I had said. I turned to face him. 

"I think all clubs are trashy so don't take it personally," I assured. He still didn't seem very pleased, but I didn't care. It was my opinion and I have every right to it. 

"Please?" Jessica continued on, not going to stop anytime soon unless I played the card. No matter how much I didn't want to bring up the part of my past that I was least proud of, I knew that I would have to do so to make Jessica happy and in turn her whining would come to an end therefore making me happy. I guess this will benefit me in some way, but I'm still not very proud of it. Now comes the hard part, casually bringing it up. I had many ideas at first but ultimately narrowed it down to one. 

"Hi people!" I squeaked rather loudly, trying my best to relearn the persona of the fictional character I had created during my YouTuber days. "Chatty Katty here! Today I'll be showing you how to properly cook a batch of Grandma's world-famous double chocolate chip cookies," I continued, pretty confident that I had got that down. I took a couple phrases from one of my most successful videos and hoped that the bouncer watched at least one of my videos. Wow, that's the first time I've ever hoped that someone watched one of my videos. 

It was easy to see that the bouncer who I just now discovered who's name is Rick. I just now caught glimpse of his name tag. Why would a bouncer have a name tag anyway? I've never seen a bouncer with a name tag before. Rick's eyes were as big as marbles and his mouth was wide open, his jaw having dropped down that far. 

"You can go right in now, Ms." He granted, still baffled by my appearance. "And my sincerest apologies for my rudeness." 

"Yes!" Jessica whispered in a shouty way as soon as we got into the building. She had reined victorious in the battle against the bouncer and she wasn't going to live it down any time soon, despite needing my help to do this. 

"Okay, I need a drink," I confessed as I began to push my way through the crowd. It wasn't as busy as I had originally thought it would be considering that Dalton Bentley was here, I then started to second guess myself. If Dalton Bentley really was here then wouldn't the club be filled to the brim with people hoping to get inside and exchange a single glance with him? 

"Look! There he is!" Jessica exclaimed out of pure excitement. She raised her hand up from her side and pointed it in the direction of the bar. She was pointing to the bartender. 

"Why are you pointing to the bartender?" I inquired. "I know that he's there, he's kind of working right now."

"No! That's Dalton Bentley over there!" 

"Really?" I questioned, not exactly believing her. 

"Really," She returned. "Now you said you need a drink, so let's get you one." 

The closer we got to the bar, the more I believed that it was indeed Dalton Bentley moonlighting at the bar here at Sycamore. 

"Now do you believe me?" Jessica asked, tipping her head to the left as we continued to get closer to the bar. The more bottles I saw lining the walls, the thirstier it made me. 

"Yes, I believe you," I answered before we finally got to a pair of open seats. 

"How may I help you?" Dalton asked, his signature white smile bound upon his face. 

"Could I get a cosmo and a martini?" I replied. "Now how much will this be?" I questioned as I took my wallet out of my back pocket. 

"Okay then," He commented as he shuffled back and forth from the back panel of bottles and the counter where he assembled the drinks. He was doing so effortlessly. "You won't have to worry about the cost. That'll be on me."

"That's very kind of you but you don't need to do that," I informed, my cheeks about to go blush red from his act of kindness. it really wasn't necessary of him to do this, but he was very insistent about it. 

"It's fine, honestly," Dalton stated, the words sliding right off his tongue. "I would actually be honored to buy you a drink," He laughed off, saying these words in a tone much softer when compared to his past ones. He leaned in closer to Jessica and I but mostly just talking to me. His gaze was somewhat menacing but on the other side of the coin also warm. That one moment of eye contact with him sent chills all through my spine but the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as well. I have no clue why though. I could tell that these butterflies weren't the good kind either. Not the ones of happiness and a loving feeling, but those of stress and nervousness. 

"Here you go," Dalton said as he set our drinks on a napkin in front of the both of us. 

"Thank you," I thanked before picking the glass up by the stem and taking multiple tiny sips. I left the rim of the glass to linger on the edge of my lip. 

"You caught the eye of rising celebrity actor Dalton Bentley," Jessica whispered, treating this as if it was an accomplishment. I guess that in some respects it is but I could not possibly care less about what he thinks about me. He's just another person on this earth who's opinion means nothing to me because it is extremely unlikely of me to ever run into him again. Actually somewhat meeting him just now was improbable, but we also did know, or at least Jessica did, that he was here so that worked in our favor somewhat. 

"I'm fully aware of that," I informed, already knowing this. Heck, I didn't just know it, I experienced it. 

"Congratulations. You should be proud," She congratulated as she downed the rest of her drink. "You also got me a free drink so I am forever grateful."

"So how are you ladies doing tonight?" Dalton asked, turning back to us as he continued to dry off recently washed glasses. 

"Shouldn't you be working and not fraternizing with your customers?" I asked, not sure why I even asked this. Maybe I was just being difficult with him because I really didn't want to get in a conversation with him because I knew that if I did it would come with a lot of questions from others, then that would be a lot of explanations on my part and I think that's just a bit of a waste of time. I'm figuring that I'll already have to answer to the return of Chatty Katty, the thing that allowed us access here in the first place, so the less I have to add on to that, the better. 

"I'm only moonlighting, and still not sure why at that," He answered with a smile. That pearly white smile is probably permanently glued onto his face. I wonder if he's ever frowned in his life, even just once. Probably not... "Probably because I just want to get back into the swing of mixology," He explained. "After all I did go to school for it when I was fresh out of high school. It's always been a joy of mine. Still do every so often but wanted to get back on a larger scale." 

"My older brother wanted to be a mixologist when he was growing up" I informed. 

"Tell me more," He ordered but not in a rude way. he whipped off his apron and came onto the other side of the bar and sat beside us. The tons of people who were formerly in the club have now dissipated into thin air. Dalton seemed intrigued by my brother's former choice of career. 

"He's in jail now," I stated simply. "That's the end of the story. Still behind bars to this day. He got busted for drunk driving and it's been a revolving door for him ever since. He deserved it in the first place." I now can't actually believe that I was actually openly talking about my older brother who was a convicted felon, with a total stranger in my presence at that. 

"Oh," He let out, not very happy about the end result of my brother's pursuit. 

About an hour or so went by, Jessica and I continuing to talk with Dalton Bentley. I was surprised by Jessica's behavior to say the least. She's a major league fangirl when it comes to most things, but she was interacting with Dalton like he was just another one of the few people in the club. We quickly got off the topic of my brother's current life and basically talked about how it was for him being a growing a-list celebrity and us just living a normal life. I even brought up my pursuit in becoming and actor and got a lot of pointers from him. I honestly don't think there would be a better person to get tips from considering he's breaking into the business himself and knows exactly what a hopeful actor will go through. I was eternally grateful for this encounter. 

Dalton was very much taken with my story and what my goals were, much so that I scored his number. Yes, I got his number. He took my phone and put his number in my contacts, but under a different name of course. I all too commonly get people sifting through my contacts and if someone was to catch a glimpse at the name Dalton Bentley, everybody would be all in my face about it and that's the last thing I want, so his number is under the name John Udelmen. 

"I think we should get going now Jessica," I yawned. It was obvious that Jessica would be totally against my suggestion but I was approaching dead tired and trust me, nobody likes the zombie form of Alexandria. It is a person you don't want to meet and I definitely do not want to flash out in an act of over tiredness in front of persons such as Dalton Bentley. "I'm getting really tired."

"Fine," Jessica agreed reluctantly.  "Now that you mention it, I'm getting a little tired to."

"Well, hopefully I'll see you again sometime Alex," Dalton hoped out loud. 

"See you sometime soon," I promised, wanting it just as much as he did. 

Bad Press: Chapter 4

"Sorry, you're not on the list," The bouncer informed us as it was now Jessica and I's turn to be granted or denied access to Sycamore. 

"What do you mean that we're not on the list?" Jessica asked, not being able to comprehend his words. 

"Jessica, he's saying that we're not allowed in," I reiterated. "So I think we better leave now." I should have known better than to have suggest that idea. Jessica is one of those people that will never take no for an answer until her last dying breath. She'd probably say no to death if it was possible for her to do so. Okay, probably everybody would say no to death but I think that I've made my point clear enough for you. 

"I don't take no for an answer, you full well know this by now," She whispered, leaning over onto my side, balancing on one foot to do so. I'm just desperately hoping she doesn't lose her balance and we both make contact with the hard ground with only a thin royal purple carpet to break our fall, if it does us any justice at that, or more so me since I'll be the one on the bottom of the pile. 

"You're not on the list," The bouncer repeated in attempts to be rid of us since we're collectively thought of as a pest even though it's Jessica who's the primary source of the irritation. As you already know, I'm not one for clubs so not being allowed into one never seemed to faze me. Yeah, sometimes the rejection is a bit much but doesn't bother me because a majority of the time I didn't even want to go to the club in the first place. Usually after being rejected to one you don't try to get into another because your confidence level is lower than it should be and you're not as determined to get inside, but there are the few times where you are set to getting into a club no matter how long it may take or how hard you have to push. 

"Let's just go now, okay?" I brought up rather sternly to Jessica. A frown immediately came up on her face and she crossed her arms hopefully to have some extra effect. 

"Use your YouTuber card, please?" She begged, wanting nothing more than to get into the club. I don't really see why. I mean, yeah it would be pretty awesome to possibly bump into Dalton Bentley but the chances of that actually happening are very minute so I'm not letting that get to me, mainly so I don't need to face rejection because rejection just flat out sucks. 

"Why?" I questioned. "It's not like I actually want to get into this trashy club."

"Hey!" The bouncer shouted, obviously having heard what I had said. I turned to face him. 

"I think all clubs are trashy so don't take it personally," I assured. He still didn't seem very pleased, but I didn't care. It was my opinion and I have every right to it. 

"Please?" Jessica continued on, not going to stop anytime soon unless I played the card. No matter how much I didn't want to bring up the part of my past that I was least proud of, I knew that I would have to do so to make Jessica happy and in turn her whining would come to an end therefore making me happy. I guess this will benefit me in some way, but I'm still not very proud of it. Now comes the hard part, casually bringing it up. I had many ideas at first but ultimately narrowed it down to one. 

"Hi people!" I squeaked rather loudly, trying my best to relearn the persona of the fictional character I had created during my YouTuber days. "Chatty Katty here! Today I'll be showing you how to properly cook a batch of Grandma's world-famous double chocolate chip cookies," I continued, pretty confident that I had got that down. I took a couple phrases from one of my most successful videos and hoped that the bouncer watched at least one of my videos. Wow, that's the first time I've ever hoped that someone watched one of my videos. 

It was easy to see that the bouncer who I just now discovered who's name is Rick. I just now caught glimpse of his name tag. Why would a bouncer have a name tag anyway? I've never seen a bouncer with a name tag before. Rick's eyes were as big as marbles and his mouth was wide open, his jaw having dropped down that far. 

"You can go right in now, Ms." He granted, still baffled by my appearance. "And my sincerest apologies for my rudeness." 

"Yes!" Jessica whispered in a shouty way as soon as we got into the building. She had reined victorious in the battle against the bouncer and she wasn't going to live it down any time soon, despite needing my help to do this. 

"Okay, I need a drink," I confessed as I began to push my way through the crowd. It wasn't as busy as I had originally thought it would be considering that Dalton Bentley was here, I then started to second guess myself. If Dalton Bentley really was here then wouldn't the club be filled to the brim with people hoping to get inside and exchange a single glance with him? 

"Look! There he is!" Jessica exclaimed out of pure excitement. She raised her hand up from her side and pointed it in the direction of the bar. She was pointing to the bartender. 

"Why are you pointing to the bartender?" I inquired. "I know that he's there, he's kind of working right now."

"No! That's Dalton Bentley over there!" 

"Really?" I questioned, not exactly believing her. 

"Really," She returned. "Now you said you need a drink, so let's get you one." 

The closer we got to the bar, the more I believed that it was indeed Dalton Bentley moonlighting at the bar here at Sycamore. 

"Now do you believe me?" Jessica asked, tipping her head to the left as we continued to get closer to the bar. The more bottles I saw lining the walls, the thirstier it made me. 

"Yes, I believe you," I answered before we finally got to a pair of open seats. 

"How may I help you?" Dalton asked, his signature white smile bound upon his face. 

"Could I get a cosmo and a martini?" I replied. "Now how much will this be?" I questioned as I took my wallet out of my back pocket. 

"Okay then," He commented as he shuffled back and forth from the back panel of bottles and the counter where he assembled the drinks. He was doing so effortlessly. "You won't have to worry about the cost. That'll be on me."

"That's very kind of you but you don't need to do that," I informed, my cheeks about to go blush red from his act of kindness. it really wasn't necessary of him to do this, but he was very insistent about it. 

"It's fine, honestly," Dalton stated, the words sliding right off his tongue. "I would actually be honored to buy you a drink," He laughed off, saying these words in a tone much softer when compared to his past ones. He leaned in closer to Jessica and I but mostly just talking to me. His gaze was somewhat menacing but on the other side of the coin also warm. That one moment of eye contact with him sent chills all through my spine but the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as well. I have no clue why though. I could tell that these butterflies weren't the good kind either. Not the ones of happiness and a loving feeling, but those of stress and nervousness. 

"Here you go," Dalton said as he set our drinks on a napkin in front of the both of us. 

"Thank you," I thanked before picking the glass up by the stem and taking multiple tiny sips. I left the rim of the glass to linger on the edge of my lip. 

"You caught the eye of rising celebrity actor Dalton Bentley," Jessica whispered, treating this as if it was an accomplishment. I guess that in some respects it is but I could not possibly care less about what he thinks about me. He's just another person on this earth who's opinion means nothing to me because it is extremely unlikely of me to ever run into him again. Actually somewhat meeting him just now was improbable, but we also did know, or at least Jessica did, that he was here so that worked in our favor somewhat. 

"I'm fully aware of that," I informed, already knowing this. Heck, I didn't just know it, I experienced it. 

"Congratulations. You should be proud," She congratulated as she downed the rest of her drink. "You also got me a free drink so I am forever grateful."

"So how are you ladies doing tonight?" Dalton asked, turning back to us as he continued to dry off recently washed glasses. 

"Shouldn't you be working and not fraternizing with your customers?" I asked, not sure why I even asked this. Maybe I was just being difficult with him because I really didn't want to get in a conversation with him because I knew that if I did it would come with a lot of questions from others, then that would be a lot of explanations on my part and I think that's just a bit of a waste of time. I'm figuring that I'll already have to answer to the return of Chatty Katty, the thing that allowed us access here in the first place, so the less I have to add on to that, the better. 

"I'm only moonlighting, and still not sure why at that," He answered with a smile. That pearly white smile is probably permanently glued onto his face. I wonder if he's ever frowned in his life, even just once. Probably not... "Probably because I just want to get back into the swing of mixology," He explained. "After all I did go to school for it when I was fresh out of high school. It's always been a joy of mine. Still do every so often but wanted to get back on a larger scale." 

"My older brother wanted to be a mixologist when he was growing up" I informed. 

"Tell me more," He ordered but not in a rude way. he whipped off his apron and came onto the other side of the bar and sat beside us. The tons of people who were formerly in the club have now dissipated into thin air. Dalton seemed intrigued by my brother's former choice of career. 

"He's in jail now," I stated simply. "That's the end of the story. Still behind bars to this day. He got busted for drunk driving and it's been a revolving door for him ever since. He deserved it in the first place." I now can't actually believe that I was actually openly talking about my older brother who was a convicted felon, with a total stranger in my presence at that. 

"Oh," He let out, not very happy about the end result of my brother's pursuit. 

About an hour or so went by, Jessica and I continuing to talk with Dalton Bentley. I was surprised by Jessica's behavior to say the least. She's a major league fangirl when it comes to most things, but she was interacting with Dalton like he was just another one of the few people in the club. We quickly got off the topic of my brother's current life and basically talked about how it was for him being a growing a-list celebrity and us just living a normal life. I even brought up my pursuit in becoming and actor and got a lot of pointers from him. I honestly don't think there would be a better person to get tips from considering he's breaking into the business himself and knows exactly what a hopeful actor will go through. I was eternally grateful for this encounter. 

Dalton was very much taken with my story and what my goals were, much so that I scored his number. Yes, I got his number. He took my phone and put his number in my contacts, but under a different name of course. I all too commonly get people sifting through my contacts and if someone was to catch a glimpse at the name Dalton Bentley, everybody would be all in my face about it and that's the last thing I want, so his number is under the name John Udelmen. 

"I think we should get going now Jessica," I yawned. It was obvious that Jessica would be totally against my suggestion but I was approaching dead tired and trust me, nobody likes the zombie form of Alexandria. It is a person you don't want to meet and I definitely do not want to flash out in an act of over tiredness in front of persons such as Dalton Bentley. "I'm getting really tired."

"Fine," Jessica agreed reluctantly.  "Now that you mention it, I'm getting a little tired to."

"Well, hopefully I'll see you again sometime Alex," Dalton hoped out loud. 

"See you sometime soon," I promised, wanting it just as much as he did. 

Bad Press: Chapter 3

"Where are you?" I heard Jessica shout on the other end of my phone. Based on the tone and volume of her voice, I think it was safe to assume that she was angry. "Why are you not at your house?"

"I'm not at my house because my calculations showed that the subway wouldn't be back before you decided to drag me off to a rubbish club on the other end of town so I went out to eat since we've all learned that my stomach can't tolerate club food," I informed. "My conversation with Jackson also went on longer than I had originally suspected."

"So I take it you went to the panini place," She assumed, muttering the words under her breath. She didn't seem very impressed with my selection of eating establishment, but I didn't care about what she thought. The panini was delicious, it doesn't cost an arm and a leg, and I can chat with a friend while I eat. I don't know what else someone could ask for! 

"Well, then where are you now?" She retorted, obviously not pleased that I wasn't currently at home. 

"I'm on the subway about five minutes from arriving at the station," I answered, moving my phone and head around and eventually maneuvering in such a way that my phone was now being held up to my ear by my shoulder as I rummaged through my sack for the seemingly fifteenth time today. I hadn't finished my green tea before I left and since Jackson knows I have the tendency of not finishing it, he put it in a coffee cup of sorts. I took a sip a few minutes ago and burnt my tongue. 

"There you are," I said a little louder than necessary as I pulled out the thoroughly frozen bottle of water. Hopefully this will give me some relief from te burning sensation currently spreading all throughout the surface of my tongue. For those of you who haven't figured it out already, yes, I am a very clumsy person. No, this does not mean you get to judge me for being so. 

"Where is what?" Jessica asked out of curiosity, having no clue as to what my words were directed to. 

"My frozen water bottle," I answered as I screwed off the cap and placed the opening on the place on my tongue where the burning tea hit first. The sensation across my tongue is coming from there so if I treat it from the source this tingling will hopefully be gone soon. 

"Why do you have a frozen water bottle with you?" She continued. 

"It was in a liquid form but it froze," I defended, my voice sounding off because of the bottle being pressed against my tongue. 

"Why does your voice sound different?"

"Because I burnt my tongue," I informed. 

"Well that wasn't too smart of you," She muttered. 

"Hey!" I replied quite loudly, almost shouting. I got glares all around from pretty much everyone on the subway. "You've done far dumber things than this."

"You have a point there," She gave in. "But in my defense at least half of them were dares from you, Miranda, or the both of you." 

"That's a lie!" I accused. "I've only dared you a handful of times and those were cheeky things that you brought up in the first place so don't you dare try to push that over onto me." An elderly couple a few rows ahead of me turned to face me and I was prompted to lower my voice. Okay, maybe I am being a little louder than necessary but come on, can't they just turn down their hearing aids down or something? That thought might have been a little bit rude, but yet again nobody ever accused me of being a nice person. 

"Oh, sure you haven't dared me to do anything," She agreed sarcastically. Something that you should know about Jessica is that she has a Ph.D in sarcasm and a Bachelor's degree in putting people through a guilt trip. Many people have fallen victim to it, but thank goodness I'm not one of them.  

"Why do you not have anything remotely delicious in your snack cabinettes?" Jessica whined, obviously not impressed by my selection of snack foods. 

"You're not raiding trough my snack cupboards again now, are you?" I questioned even though i already knew that the answer was yes. Why would she be complaining about me not having anything appealing according to her appetite in my kitchen if she wasn't digging through the shelves? 

"No," She lied, her mouth now full of something. Oh no, she's hit my hidden candy stash. 

There is a reason behind everything here in this world, and more specifically reasoning for why I keep my candy hidden. I keep my candy kidden because there will always be people in this world, much like my friends, who will actively dig through every nook and cranny of your house to find a single piece of chocolate if they suspect even slightly that you have some sweets stacked somewhere. I've learned from my mistakes in the past and I've learned to hide the candy and to change spots frequently because if you do not, these people of the earth who are candy hunters will find your stash, and they will deplete your whole catalog. 

"What are you eating?" I asked sternly, not being afraid to push as hard as necessary to get the answer and to leave with as much candy left as possible. 

"Nothing," She continued, off to a start on a lying streak. Jessica has a lot of these, but everybody knows that every word she speaks is far from the truth, except for her. She thinks that if she believes that what she's saying is the truth then others will as well. Well, some people never learn I guess. 

"You're lying to me," I informed. "You've found my stash of candy now, haven't you?" There was a slight shuffling sound that could be heard then the line went dead. 

"Looks like I'll be out of candy when I get back home," I confessed, knowing that this would hold true when I walked through the front door. I took my phone back out and tried to call again but I was sent straight to voicemail. I then tried calling my home phone and see if she'd be dumb enough to pick up there, but she didn't, so I resorted to sending her a text to pick me up at the subway station. If she was out and about and wanted to bring me to a club, she could come and easily pick me up at the subway station. 

Hey! Since you're out and about anyway how about you come pick me up at the subway station? Slowly working my way off the subway right now. 

~ Alex

P.S. Get your head out of my candy drawer!

I got an almost immediate response out of her, but not a text, but rather a call in return. 

"I'm not in your candy drawer!" She attempted to persuade even though I knew the correct answer was otherwise. 

"Yeah sure," I replied sarcastically, using her signature trait against her.  "If you're not in my candy drawer then I suppose that my stash will be fully stocked when I return home at whatever ludicrois hour in the night it'll be when you've decided you've had enough of the club, or too many martini's, and need to get some sleep." 

"Okay fine, I've had some candy from your stash," She confessed. About time she did so. 

"A ha!" I shouted, no longer afraid of the ugly glares that my mini out bursts would win me. People were now too focused on their next destination and paid little to no attention to their surroundings. 

"Okay, I'm waiting near the parking lot," I informed. "Where are you now?" 

"Not very far away," She answered, this not helping me very much. "I'll be there in a minute or two."

"What song is playing on the radio?" I asked, this question being way off the current topic. "It's sounds very familiar but I just can't put my finger on the title. It's on the tip of my tongue!" I was almost the master of song titles so for me to not know the song right away even though I know it is an embarrassment. 

"I drop your troubles off at the conveyor belt. I give you a ticket to forget yourself," Jessica sang out, very very pitchy as well as not keeping one single key but she was just aiming for the words. 

"At the baggage claim, you got a lot of luggage in your name," I continued. "That's Bagagge Claim by Miranda Lambert!" I exclaimed, more excited than words could describe. I had finally gotten the song. The line went dead after that. 

After the line went dead, I heard a honk of a horn and immediately knew that it was Jessica's queue to me that she had arrived. I ran through the nearest set of doors much like a kid after a winter seasons' first snow. I know I most likely look like an idiot through the passersbys' eyes, but do I look like I really care? I do not care what these strange people who I've never met think of me, because it's unimportant for me to know what they think of me. 

"Ready to go?" I was asked as Jessica started the car back up and got back onto the road. 

"Ready as I'll ever be," I responded. "What trash club will I be dragged to on this fine night where I could be binge-watching Once Upon A Time?"

"Sycamore, and it's not a trash club," She defended. "If it was a trash club then why would Dalton Bentley go there every Friday night?"

"So the only reason why you're going to this club in particular is for the sole purpose of hopefully bumping into this rising celebrity?" I asked even though I already knew that the answer was yes. The answer is almost always yes to these questions that I ask. I start to wonder why I even bother asking half the questions I do when I already know full well what the answer is. "He's probably has a boatload of security around the place. We'll be lucky if you can even get in."

"I have connections you know," She stated. Jessica has connections to pretty much everybody no matter how obscure they may be. However it does come in handy more often than not. "So prepare to have the time of your life tonight."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Bad Press: Chapter 3

"Where are you?" I heard Jessica shout on the other end of my phone. Based on the tone and volume of her voice, I think it was safe to assume that she was angry. "Why are you not at your house?"

"I'm not at my house because my calculations showed that the subway wouldn't be back before you decided to drag me off to a rubbish club on the other end of town so I went out to eat since we've all learned that my stomach can't tolerate club food," I informed. "My conversation with Jackson also went on longer than I had originally suspected."

"So I take it you went to the panini place," She assumed, muttering the words under her breath. She didn't seem very impressed with my selection of eating establishment, but I didn't care about what she thought. The panini was delicious, it doesn't cost an arm and a leg, and I can chat with a friend while I eat. I don't know what else someone could ask for! 

"Well, then where are you now?" She retorted, obviously not pleased that I wasn't currently at home. 

"I'm on the subway about five minutes from arriving at the station," I answered, moving my phone and head around and eventually maneuvering in such a way that my phone was now being held up to my ear by my shoulder as I rummaged through my sack for the seemingly fifteenth time today. I hadn't finished my green tea before I left and since Jackson knows I have the tendency of not finishing it, he put it in a coffee cup of sorts. I took a sip a few minutes ago and burnt my tongue. 

"There you are," I said a little louder than necessary as I pulled out the thoroughly frozen bottle of water. Hopefully this will give me some relief from te burning sensation currently spreading all throughout the surface of my tongue. For those of you who haven't figured it out already, yes, I am a very clumsy person. No, this does not mean you get to judge me for being so. 

"Where is what?" Jessica asked out of curiosity, having no clue as to what my words were directed to. 

"My frozen water bottle," I answered as I screwed off the cap and placed the opening on the place on my tongue where the burning tea hit first. The sensation across my tongue is coming from there so if I treat it from the source this tingling will hopefully be gone soon. 

"Why do you have a frozen water bottle with you?" She continued. 

"It was in a liquid form but it froze," I defended, my voice sounding off because of the bottle being pressed against my tongue. 

"Why does your voice sound different?"

"Because I burnt my tongue," I informed. 

"Well that wasn't too smart of you," She muttered. 

"Hey!" I replied quite loudly, almost shouting. I got glares all around from pretty much everyone on the subway. "You've done far dumber things than this."

"You have a point there," She gave in. "But in my defense at least half of them were dares from you, Miranda, or the both of you." 

"That's a lie!" I accused. "I've only dared you a handful of times and those were cheeky things that you brought up in the first place so don't you dare try to push that over onto me." An elderly couple a few rows ahead of me turned to face me and I was prompted to lower my voice. Okay, maybe I am being a little louder than necessary but come on, can't they just turn down their hearing aids down or something? That thought might have been a little bit rude, but yet again nobody ever accused me of being a nice person. 

"Oh, sure you haven't dared me to do anything," She agreed sarcastically. Something that you should know about Jessica is that she has a Ph.D in sarcasm and a Bachelor's degree in putting people through a guilt trip. Many people have fallen victim to it, but thank goodness I'm not one of them.  

"Why do you not have anything remotely delicious in your snack cabinettes?" Jessica whined, obviously not impressed by my selection of snack foods. 

"You're not raiding trough my snack cupboards again now, are you?" I questioned even though i already knew that the answer was yes. Why would she be complaining about me not having anything appealing according to her appetite in my kitchen if she wasn't digging through the shelves? 

"No," She lied, her mouth now full of something. Oh no, she's hit my hidden candy stash. 

There is a reason behind everything here in this world, and more specifically reasoning for why I keep my candy hidden. I keep my candy kidden because there will always be people in this world, much like my friends, who will actively dig through every nook and cranny of your house to find a single piece of chocolate if they suspect even slightly that you have some sweets stacked somewhere. I've learned from my mistakes in the past and I've learned to hide the candy and to change spots frequently because if you do not, these people of the earth who are candy hunters will find your stash, and they will deplete your whole catalog. 

"What are you eating?" I asked sternly, not being afraid to push as hard as necessary to get the answer and to leave with as much candy left as possible. 

"Nothing," She continued, off to a start on a lying streak. Jessica has a lot of these, but everybody knows that every word she speaks is far from the truth, except for her. She thinks that if she believes that what she's saying is the truth then others will as well. Well, some people never learn I guess. 

"You're lying to me," I informed. "You've found my stash of candy now, haven't you?" There was a slight shuffling sound that could be heard then the line went dead. 

"Looks like I'll be out of candy when I get back home," I confessed, knowing that this would hold true when I walked through the front door. I took my phone back out and tried to call again but I was sent straight to voicemail. I then tried calling my home phone and see if she'd be dumb enough to pick up there, but she didn't, so I resorted to sending her a text to pick me up at the subway station. If she was out and about and wanted to bring me to a club, she could come and easily pick me up at the subway station. 

Hey! Since you're out and about anyway how about you come pick me up at the subway station? Slowly working my way off the subway right now. 

~ Alex

P.S. Get your head out of my candy drawer!

I got an almost immediate response out of her, but not a text, but rather a call in return. 

"I'm not in your candy drawer!" She attempted to persuade even though I knew the correct answer was otherwise. 

"Yeah sure," I replied sarcastically, using her signature trait against her.  "If you're not in my candy drawer then I suppose that my stash will be fully stocked when I return home at whatever ludicrois hour in the night it'll be when you've decided you've had enough of the club, or too many martini's, and need to get some sleep." 

"Okay fine, I've had some candy from your stash," She confessed. About time she did so. 

"A ha!" I shouted, no longer afraid of the ugly glares that my mini out bursts would win me. People were now too focused on their next destination and paid little to no attention to their surroundings. 

"Okay, I'm waiting near the parking lot," I informed. "Where are you now?" 

"Not very far away," She answered, this not helping me very much. "I'll be there in a minute or two."

"What song is playing on the radio?" I asked, this question being way off the current topic. "It's sounds very familiar but I just can't put my finger on the title. It's on the tip of my tongue!" I was almost the master of song titles so for me to not know the song right away even though I know it is an embarrassment. 

"I drop your troubles off at the conveyor belt. I give you a ticket to forget yourself," Jessica sang out, very very pitchy as well as not keeping one single key but she was just aiming for the words. 

"At the baggage claim, you got a lot of luggage in your name," I continued. "That's Bagagge Claim by Miranda Lambert!" I exclaimed, more excited than words could describe. I had finally gotten the song. The line went dead after that. 

After the line went dead, I heard a honk of a horn and immediately knew that it was Jessica's queue to me that she had arrived. I ran through the nearest set of doors much like a kid after a winter seasons' first snow. I know I most likely look like an idiot through the passersbys' eyes, but do I look like I really care? I do not care what these strange people who I've never met think of me, because it's unimportant for me to know what they think of me. 

"Ready to go?" I was asked as Jessica started the car back up and got back onto the road. 

"Ready as I'll ever be," I responded. "What trash club will I be dragged to on this fine night where I could be binge-watching Once Upon A Time?"

"Sycamore, and it's not a trash club," She defended. "If it was a trash club then why would Dalton Bentley go there every Friday night?"

"So the only reason why you're going to this club in particular is for the sole purpose of hopefully bumping into this rising celebrity?" I asked even though I already knew that the answer was yes. The answer is almost always yes to these questions that I ask. I start to wonder why I even bother asking half the questions I do when I already know full well what the answer is. "He's probably has a boatload of security around the place. We'll be lucky if you can even get in."

"I have connections you know," She stated. Jessica has connections to pretty much everybody no matter how obscure they may be. However it does come in handy more often than not. "So prepare to have the time of your life tonight."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Bad Press: Chapter 2

The cold and crisp breeze hit me hard as soon as I stepped out the front door of the building where the practices were held. I don't really know why I was surprised by the cold air since it is a normal thing for the beginning of October. Maybe it was just the swift change in the weather. It was a fair climate when I left my quaint little house at about 12:30 but now it's very, very chilly. Too chilly for the little material I was wearing. The warmest piece of apparel I had put on this morning was my wool socks and those are doing diddly-squat for the rest of my body. Oh so cold. 

"Where are you, apple?" I questioned as I took my sack and proceeded in rummaging through it in attempts to find the piece of fresh fruit that grows on trees. The practice had taken quite a large toll on my hunger and it was now relevant for me to get something down my throat before I was dragged off to the club. I'm hoping that I can get home with enough time for me to cook myself a half decent meal before I was forced to leave. I hate club food, and you'll never be able to get me to consume a single bite of it. They call it food but I wouldn't even see it good enough to be fed to starving dogs, and they'll eat just about anything. 

One time Jessica tried to get me to eat a plate of nachos at a club one time and she ultimately regretted it in the end. The food made me a little queasy and after about 10 minutes of Ginger Ale being walked right to me, I projectile vomited all over her. Everybody learned a lesson from that little mishap. And to think I predicted that that would happen in the end. I laugh at the mere upbringing of it but Jessica, not so much, we all just get ugly glares from her. I ruined her favorite, and most expensive, party dress. Serves her right for trying to feed me club food. Jessica would just be an outright idiot to try something like that again. I don't think she wants to lose yet another party dress. This did happen about a year or so ago but I don't think my stomach's tolerance of club food has grown any, of anything just the opposite. 

"There you are," I exclaimed as I pulled the apple out of my little sack. "About time I was able to find you," I added before taking a bite out of it. I pulled out my bottle of water to get something to drink only to discover that it was frozen through and through. Looks like I won't be drinking that then. The water almost most likely would have been too cold for me to want to drink anyway. I took out my phone from my pocket to check the time to see that it was approaching five o'clock. Jessica has the tendency of claiming me at 6:30 and the subways don't start up again until fifteen past six, so looks like I'll be eating at a cafe tonight. I don't have a problem with that. 

The streets oddly weren't as busy as I would have originally expected then to be. Yes, it's a little colder than one would think for this time of day but it's early evening on a Friday. I seriously thought there would be a lot of commuters going home from a day of work or housewives or homemakers they prefer to be called leaving to have a girls' night out. Looks like I was wrong about that. 

As soon as I caught sight of my favorite cafe, I broke out into a full on sprint. I desperately hope that they have the heat on, but with how busy it usually is this time of day and with how cold it is, it would be dumb of them not to have the heat on. The thought of the warm space is already heating me up from the inside out. I already know exactly what I'll be getting and the thought of that is also warming me up as well as putting my taste buds into a mad frenzy. 

I almost slid off the ice that had began to form on the paved asphalt as I continued to run towards the cafe that I wanted to be inside of as quickly as possible. I had devoured the apple right down to the core quite quickly but it wasn't enough to even subside my hunger for a short amount of time. I guess the smell of different foods all around me doesn't help very much either. 

"This feels oh so nice," I muttered under my breath as I stepped through the doors of the little restaurant. There were only five or so people standing in line to order so that was good. The less time I have to wait, the better. 

"Hello Alex," The cashier greeted. "What can I get for you?" He asked. I knew this cashier fairly well. His name was Jackson. I'd been here so much when I first moved into town because I was living in a motel until my house had the closing and because of that, I had to go to eateries for every meal. I fell in love with this restaurants paninis so I came here all the time. I had little conversations with Jackson every time I dropped in to pass the minutes while my order was being fulfilled and we became good friends. We rarely ever associate anywhere other than here when he's working, but we're still good friends. There have been a couple times when he's finished his shift where he sat himself across from me at the table and we had a conversation while I ate. 

"Oh, the usual," I replied, not being able to help but allow a smile to spread across my face. It's been about a week or so since I've been here or seen Jackson so it was a pleasant surprise to see that he was working his shift now. 

"Tomato and parmesean panini with a cup of green tea and bag of kettle cooked chips it is," Jackson concluded as he hit a few buttons on the cash register. "So how's life been?" He asked, noticing that there was nobody in line behind me.  

"It's been treating me pretty well," I answered. "The play we're performing in community theater is almost ready for an opening night so that's good. Starting to get annoyed of that play but the only part of community theater I don't really like is the apathetic director of ours."

"Who's the director, Mr. Cavalier?" Jack asked. "He used to be a happy person you know."

"So I've heard," I commented. "The senior members of the club have told me this time and time again but I won't believe them until I see proof."

"He used to be happy then some bad stuff came his way and he's been a somber man ever since," I was informed. Those words have made me now feel some sort of empathy towards Mr. Cavalier. "How's life been for you?"

"Not that bad to be honest," He answered. "Gotten a bit of a raise and got a new apartment."

"That's nice," I said, staring down at my hands for a split second before bringing my attention back up to Jack. 

"What do you do for a living?" He asked, me never having told him the answer to this, yet again, he's never asked. Actually, nobody's ever asked me where my money came from, and I'm somewhat glad for that. 

"Well..." I trailed off. 

"I have a feeling that this is going to be a long story," He concluded. "Lucky for you, my shift finishes in just a few minutes. Here's your order and I'll be joining you as soon as I can." He added as he handed me a plate that had my order on it. 

"Thank you," I thanked before venturing off to the other end of the building and sat down at a table that was by a window. I took a couple bites of my grilled sandwich and a sip of tea before being spooked slightly. 

"Nice to see you again," Jack stated as he sat in the chair across the table from myself. "So, what do you do for a living?" He inquired, repeating his question. I ignored him for a fair bit of time, enjoying the bite of the tomato and parmesean panini still in my mouth before giving him a blunt answer. 

"I used to be a YouTuber," I shared. "I still get checks that are usually enough for expenses but sometimes they're not so I go busking every so often to make ends meet, or to have some extra spending money." 

"You used to be a YouTuber?" He questioned, not sure if he had heard me correctly. I nodded slightly as I took another sip of tea. 

"I started a channel with one of my friends and we became quite well known for our silly videos, which were mainly our own takes on popular radio games on the BBC, but we did a couple of other cheeky things that were our primary source of attention. We had a bit of a fall-out so that account was deleted but before doing so I posted a video to direct the million or so subscribers to my solo channel and I was a hit right away. After about a year of making videos and raking in the money, I had a realization that this isn't what I want to do with my life, so I posted my final faewell video and was done with it. I'm thankful that people still watch the dumb videos and that nobody knows my real name, or my name at all."

"Incredible," Jackson replied, highly intrigued by my story. "I have a couple questions though."

"Will I have the right to refuse to answer them if need be?" I asked, clueless as to what kind of questions he would ask. I most likely would answer his questions but I just wanted to be able to have that offer at my disposal in the case that I may need to use it. 

"Sure," He answered. "My first question is whether or not Alexandria Blake is your real name."

"Indeed it is," I smiled, happy that this question was very simple. The next one can't be that bad. 

"My next question is whether you have any tips to being a success," He continued. "I've been trying to have some fame but I haven't gotten any notice whatsoever. 

"I'm sorry to hear that but in all honesty, it's not all it's cracked up to be," I replied. "But if you want it that badly the key point is to be different. The only way to get any notice when there are so many YouTubers out there is to be different. Do something that will get you noticed."

"Thanks for the tip," He thanked. I was hinting at a bit of sarcasm but I wasn't sure if there really was any so I didn't bother to bring it up. 

"What kind of videos are you making?" I asked, wanting to get some idea as to what he was trying to achieve with his videos. 

"Oh, nothing very special, just playing some silly games, recording them, and posting them," He informed.

"Ah, there's your problem right there," I pointed out. "If you don't believe in your own videos then they're not going to get any lift. You're also not putting effort into your videos so that's why nobody's watching. Why would somebody waste their time watching a ten minute long video of you playing a pathetic game with your friends when they could be watching Tyler Oakley's latest upload?"

"Then what do you suggest I do?" He questioned, not snappish or anything even though that's what I expected. 

"I suggest that you try something different and put effort into your videos. Take something that you're quite talented at and use that to your advantage, whatever your special talent may be," I suggested. As soon as the words flew out of my mouth I knew immediately what his talent was. he can sing, and damn can that man sing. He can't just sing, but he can sang. "Meet me tomorrow afternoon at Dumond square and bring your guitar."

"Why?" He asked. 

"Just do as I say," I answered. "I have an idea that I believe will work, I just need to test it out and see if it'll work the way I expect it to."

"Why does this plan require me meeting you at Dumond Square and bringing my guitar?" He continued. 

"Because it does," I snapped back before shoving the rest of my panini in my mouth rather ungracefully. I don't really care whether my current style of eating is graceful in the viewpoint of others or not, I just want to get the food from the plate to my stomach. 

"Sheesh, okay then," He responded. "Should I expect to be playing Secondhand Serenade?"

"Wow, you know me almost too well," I replied, giving him yes for an answer but it being more in a terms of having to dig through the words, but not too hard though or then you wouldn't get the answer. 

"I'll practice up then," He informed. "See you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow,' I returned before picking up my tray, dumping the trash into the specified bucket, then exiting to make my way home. It was now six o'clock and I needed to get to the Subway so I could get home in time for Jessica to pick me up and drag me off to the club. 

Bad Press: Chapter 1

"And, scene!" The director and organizer of the play shouted when the few of us on the stage came to the end of the current scene. "Nice job everybody. That'll be it for the day." 

"Thank god," I muttered under my breath as I took a leap off the makeshift performing area that is dared to be called a stage. It was a wooden thing that you'd swear would break whenever you hit the surface with the back of your shoe. At least seven times today I swore I was going to fall right through. I bet that if I did the director would feel no grief. 

Mr. Cavalier is one of those people that you'd put a million dollar bet down that he either has no heart or has a stone in place of it. He's a good director and all, a great one at that, but it would have to be the end of the world to get any kind of emotion other than anger out of him. He only has two moods; angry and apathetic. If you ever meet him and see him in a mood other than those two, please take a picture or even a video and send it to me. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if there's something going on with him that he doesn't want to show emotion. I think he just remains dull and emotionless because that's what we're all well and used to so to see any change would bring up red flags and bring up conversation, and if there's anything that Mr. Cavalier hates more than the smell of spoiled fish, it's getting in a conversation. 

Nobody knows why Mr. Cavalier hates conversation, but nobody here in the community theater group has ever been bothered to find out. The seniors of the club say that there was a time, about five years ago, where he showed a broader pallette of emotions and noto just anger and apathy, but I won't believe it until I see some proof. They used to record every performance and rehearsal back when the group was first created to have tangible proof that theater and dramatic performance was the actual point of the group. Because the town gave the group town money to start up, get props, and everything else, they've started demanding proof that showed that we were actually performing plays and other works of literature. The town has been ripped off far too many times to risk it happening again. 

A few months ago the town discovered that people were organizing the start-up of a group and because the group sparked up interest from quite a large sum of people, they were almost required to fund it to a degree. What would happen in the end is that the groups were created with an idea that would originally start off as an astronomer club or gardening group, but those weren't the intentions that were pitched to the town. Instead of doing what they said they would be, they were instead using the money for trips to Vegas, gambling all the money then going back with what they had or leaving empty-handed. The only club that actually upheld to what they firstly committed to was the Travel club and the club was mostly composed of roadies. They went to wherever their favorite music act was playing and went to some museums around the area. The only reason why ther funds haven't been terminated is because they buy the tickets with their own pocket money. Not a bad idea if I do say so myself. I would have joined that club but apparently I'm not 'Roadie Material' so I was rejected entrance. Not a very big deal, I was accepted into this club in a heartbeat. 

I've always had an interest in the arts, well at least the performing and musical end of it, not so much for the physical art end. I'm able to admit if a work is pretty or not to my own preference, but I can't value them and see how a blank canvas titled 'Snowstorm' is selling for million upon millions of dollars, and art critics eat this kind of stuff right up! in that case, I could be an artist too! I sketched a picture of a butterfly back in 3rd grade that looks better than half the stuff in the multiple museums in the area, and even a couple abroad, I've seen. I'm soo tempted to go to the one on the other end of town and put my framed butterfly sketch on the wall. 

"Nice job," Someone complimented, me not able to recognize him yet. Yes, I'm immediately jumping to the conclusion that it's a man. I'm the only female still on set so it's kind of obvious that it would be a male. 

"Not too bad yourself, Joey," I returned with the flash of my award winning smile. Joey was probably the greatest friend I had made through this club, and one of the greatest friends I had made throughout the course of my lifetime. He's one of the sweetest people you'll ever cross paths with. 

I'm very fortunate and thankful to have met Joey. I've only been living in this town for a handful of months and was new to pretty much everything. When I joined this group I was oblivious to everything and I mistakenly ran into Joey when I was staring at the ground, paying attention to just about everything but where I was going, which is never a good idea in case you didn't know that. I was a little weary about befriending him at first out of the fear that his kind manner was just a disguise and he would soon turn against me, because this had happened to me too many times to count in my younger years. I've been tricked into doing just about anything you can imagine by the guy who was said to be the nicest person you'll ever meet. I'm sorry, but I don't think a nice boy would try to persuade someone to take narcotics. Just no.

I'm confident in saying that Joey is the nicest person you could ever possibly meet because I've known him for a time period that's going on seven months and he hasn't made me to anything that I didn't want to that would have a negative impact on me in the long-run. Okay, yes he has persuaded me into doing things I originally didn't want to but that was at a water park a couples towns away. Joey wanted to go on a water slide of a sort but he couldn't go alone and he didn't want to go with a stranger, I didn't want to go on it but he talked me into it as well as throwing an ice cream sundae into the deal. I'm still glad to this very day that I decided to go on that ride. Best ride I've ever gone on and probably ever will go on. 

"So what are you going to be doing later tonight?" Joey asked out of curiosity. The both of us had made our way off of the stage that had the power to kill any of us if we stepped in any place wrong and were now in another room of the building the group had adopted for the pratices. 

"I'm not really sure," I replied. "My ideal evening would be lounging on the couch and binge-watching Once Upon A Time so I'll be all caught up for the new season premiere tomorrow night but Jessica and Miranda are probably going to drag me off to the club that just happens to be the one filled to the brim with people. So stuffed that you are confined to one tiny square on the dance floor. One step too far in any direction and you're going down."

"That sounds like fun," He commented, sarcasm oozing right out of his words. 

"Clubs really must not be your thing," I concluded even though I already knew this. "You never use sarcasm in conversation unless the topic of the chat is something you hate with all of your heart. You really do not like clubbing."

"Have I ever said that I like clubs?" He inquired.

"You've got a point there," I said, starting back up into walking in hopes to quickly find where I last left my bag that I had stuffed some food in. "In the circumstance that I do get dragged off to a club by force at the hands of Jessica, Miranda, or both of them, will you please tag along?" I asked. "I almost always get super bored but they won't allow me to leave. At least if you came I wouldn't be totally alone when they decide to ditch me and go after the first cute guy that catches their eye. Please?" I begged, desperately not wanting to end up alone after being declared a party pooper. 

"Fine, I'll come," He gave in, somewhat reluctant to it but at least he knew that he wouldn't actually have to go dancing or drinking or anything else, just stay by my side and talk. "But as long as I can bring my phone."

"You've got a deal," I agreed. I already knew what he's likely to use his phone for and it usually involves something that's also entertaining to me so I have no problem with it. Joey either watches funny cat videos, listens to music, or we take turns playing different games that are usually Temple Run or Dumb Ways To Die. His phone also had two headphone jacks so as long as I bring my own pair, I'm more than welcome to listen to his music. 

"I'll see you later tonight then," He commented, a smile coming out of hibernation. When the topic of the club coming up the smile was wiped right off his face and even more so when I asked him if he would tag along. "And if the club doesn't happen, don't be surprised if I decide to pop in and pay you a visit."

"I'll see you later to," I returned. "And thanks for the heads up. I'll be sure to pop enough popcorn for the both of us."

"Oh, don't forget this," He added as he swooped his hand across the ground to grab my little sack. 

"Thanks," I thanked before reclaiming it then exiting the building.