Boys...

Wait- You're a girl?

NOTE: Let's just suppose Benedict Cumberbatch is a single bachelor- shall we? For the sake of the story...

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"Um... Sorry man." I mumbled. "Why don't you guys follow me- my car's parked outside."

Saying so, I turned around and started walking. They followed me dragging their large suitcases behind them. Both of the pulled their hoods and put on their sunglasses. I snorted. Celebs.

We finally reached the car, and the both managed to not twist their faces in disgust. If they had, I would have probably asked them to find a ride all the way to the other part of America, on their own.

"Do we... Need to stop anywhere, before? I mean, for breakfast or a quick coffee or something?" I asked as I got in. They put their luggage in the trunk, and took a seat behind. I looked up from the steering wheel.

 Did they think I was driver?

God.

"Yes actually, we need to pick up two more people before we go and have breakfast or something." Said Cheekbones.

"Right." I said, and pulled my GPS. I placed it on the front screen and put in their friends' address.

"Let's go." I said. After about 15 minutes of driving, the GPS told me my destination stood at the right.

Cheekbones got out and made a quick call. Soon enough, two people from the modern house beside us- apparently our destination- came out with luggage bags as big as the two men.

They kept their suitcases on the seats at the very back and one got in behind me, with Mr.Powell and Cheekbones.

The other guy, got in beside me.

I looked at him.

Andrew Scott.

"Gay guys. " I sighed, louder than I had meant to.

"Homophobe." he said, as loudly as me. The atmosphere tensed behind but I knew I wasn't a homophobe...

"I'm not against gays- it's just that somehow all the gay guys are the cute ones. You, Jim Parsons, Troye Sivan... Damn. " I said, and he just stared. " Nevermind... Are we off?"

The approval came from Mr.Cheekbones.

I entered the address of NYC in my GPS. It showed me a long route and 72 hours as the travel time.

"Wait a minute, New York?" Asked Cheekbones. Now. I never said I was a patient person, yet I was trying. My patience was running thin. Extremely thin.

"Yes. Got a problem, Dad?"

"What?"

"Problem, Mr.Cheekbones? The way your acting is seriously getting on my nerves. I understand you are some famous guy, but here, I have no idea who you guys are other than Andrew Scott from a small Moriarty clip I saw... In a Sherlock episode. First season I think. And my vague guess is that this Rami Malek kind of guy is Bruno Mars." I said, as I turned around.

"Wait- you are a girl?" Honestly.