What are the CHANCEs? (A Greyson Chance Fan Fic) [EDITING/ON HOLD]

Chapter 11

           I’ve got a couple hours before my parents come home and I’m officially prohibited from anything fun. And no fun for me really just means no internet. I walk over to my desk and flip open the lid on my laptop. I click Gmail as usual, not really expecting anything important. Oh hey, look at that, if I give these people my credit card number, I could get a free credit report! Man, what a steal. I chuckle to myself and shake my head, hitting the delete button. I wait for the next email to open, but it never does. I sit there for a while before getting frustrated and typing in youtube.com. Right as I hit the enter button, the email loads. Wait, hold up… did… did that email address say what I think it said…?

            I hit the back button in a rush. C’mon, c’mon, load already! The page finally loads and it’s all I can do to not start screaming in excitement.

From: theellenshow@gmail.com

Hi Alex! I saw your videos on YouTube and was amazed! The show is starting up again after we had been gone for a break, and I would love to have you on sometime! I would have had one of the show’s producers call your home, but we couldn’t find your number. Does next Monday work? We will pay for you and a parent’s ticket, of course.

Hope to hear from you,

Ellen DeGeneres

            Oh my god. Screw the not screaming thing. “I’M GONNA BE ON THE ELLEN SHOW!!!” I scream out as loud as I can. Oh my god. My brain can barely comprehend this. I’ve dreamt about it for so long, but I never even considered it actually happening. I send her a quick reply thanking her and telling her that I’ll gladly come. Oh my god, what am I going to wear? What about my hair? I should get a haircut, maybe even dye my hair before I go. I don’t even care if my parents refuse to let me go, I’m going either way. Who cares if I live halfway across the country from LA? I certainly don’t.

            I lay on my bed for a couple hours, just fantasizing about how it will go. Hm, maybe I’ll even get to dance with her. I don’t know how I feel about that… I’m a horrible dancer. I’m gonna be nervous as fuck being the introvert that I am, but I don’t care, I’m not going to let fear take over such an important thing in my life. Monday is only a week from today. One whole week of apprehension, and then it’ll be the big day. I don’t even know what she will want to talk to me about, but I’ll wing it.

            Before my parents come home, I come up with an amazingly devious plan. I call it: Operation Kiss up. I make my not-so-famous-but-still-delicious lasagna and clean as much of the house as I can with the time that I have. It isn’t until 8 pm when I hear the garage door opening. Only about an hour from now, I’ll have to ask permission for one of them to take me to LA.  That would mean one person would have to take off work, and if there’s anything my parents love more than me-and trust me, there’s a lot of things- it’s work. This is going to take a lot more than one night’s dinner.

            I’m sitting at the dinner table with everything all set when my mom and dad burst through the door. Automatically I can hear them on their phones making work calls. I sigh. Ah well, it’s not like I thought I’d have their full attention anyway. They walk through the door and stop what they’re doing when they see that I’ve already set the table and made dinner.

            “Er… do we want to know what happened or…?” My mom asks apprehensively.

            “Not yet, no. Come on, just take off your jackets and enjoy dinner,” I say smiling.

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“But why!?” I yell, forming even more tears in my eyes. They’re starting to burn from all the crying.

            “We’re both in the middle of very important projects. Neither of us have time to take off to take you there,” my dad tells me without any emotion.

            “Then let me go by myself! Please! We won’t even have to pay for the plane ticket!” I plead.

            “Alex, we can’t send you all the way to California by yourself.” My dad puts his lips in a thin line.

            “Mom?” I begged for some backup. She hadn’t said a word since I had brought it up after dinner.

            She stayed quiet, looking out the window. I sighed, turning back to my dad. “Please daddy,” I implored, using my daddy’s little girl voice. Of course, that only worked when I was like eight, but hey, I’m desperate. He still shook his head no. “Please, it’s not like I’m not responsible enough to be by myself. I’m already alone for most of the day anyways! What difference would a couple days alone in a hotel room make?” If innocence won’t work, guilt is the next best thing.

            My dad glanced over to my mom, growing annoyed of me. I really don’t care, this is too big of an opportunity to miss out on. “Plleeeeaaasseee!!! I get straight As and I never act up or do drugs or anything.” I put on a fake pout. “If you loved me as much as I love you, you’d let me go.” Finally my mom turned away from the window and looked back and forth from dad to myself.

            She sighed and spoke up for the first time. “I guess I can try to get Monday off, but I can’t make any promi-”

            “THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!” I scream and hug her. “I’ll go print out our tickets!” I run to my room.

            “I said no promises!” My mom yells behind me, but I ignore her.

            I kind of wish I had someone to brag about this to, but that’s kind of hard when there’s no one to tell. I print out the tickets that were sent to me through email and make sure to put them somewhere safe. I log onto twitter and type out “Hey guys, guess which lucky duck gets to be on The Ellen Show on Monday!?” I hit enter and smile to myself. Instantly people start sending me nice tweets back like “Congrats!” and “Lucky!” This makes me smile even more. Sometimes I forget that I still had my old viewers who had been watching my videos since before I was viral. Ah, those were the glory days. Those people were also the nice ones that had defended me when the video had gone up.

A couple minutes later, @TheEllenShow retweeted me and adds in a “:)”

So, it’s official. Alex, that girl that went viral, is going to be on TV.

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Hey you.

Yea you.

You should leave me a comment.

That little voice at the back of your head?

Yea, it's telling you to do the same thing.

How do I know?

Hush child, don't strain yourself. Details aren't important.

Just scroll down. Ah, yes, like you just did a couple seconds ago.  Good, good. Now click inside that big empty rectangle. Aw, doesn't it look lonely? You should add some letters, you know, give the ol' thing some new friends. 

What's that you say? You don't have an account? Tisk tisk tisk. I thought you were better than that. Excuses, excuses. What are you still doing here?! Run along, go make yourself an account! Oh, you've made one now? Good. That empty rectangle is starting to get depression. He saw that you left and felt unwanted. Go on, give him what you came for! 

Ok, so you typed your comment? Good, good. I'm sure that little ol' rectangle appreciated it as much as I do.

Oh hey, see that vote button on the side? I heard it's been talking crap about you. You oughta show him what's up. Beat the crap out of it with your mouse. Or mouse pad/screen if you're on a laptop or mobile device using the app. Don't worry, I don't discriminate. 

Oh and that fan button on my profile? Rumour is that he's got a crushy-crush on ya. He's pretty trustworthy, if you ask me. You should totally jump on it, if ya know what I mean.

Good, so you've done all that already? No? Well fuck you too man.