At 2am

Chapter 1: My bitch, The Garden

Okay, there have been stories ,fan fiction some might call, telling about a normal girl meeting a rock star or a hot Hollywood actor and then they fall in love. But then the story takes a really bad turn because reality got in the way and then they both realize that they're worlds are far different from each other. But in the end, love prevails and they both live happily ever after. That happens in those fan fictions, right? But not in mine, because it certainly isn't fiction. Until he said it was.

This is about my story. The story where I met the last person I would expect to meet in my entire existence. But it doesn't start from there. It started here.

*A year ago, Manhattan*

Wow. Dad was right. It's really nice driving around the neighborhood on a Sunday morning, instead of just getting cooped up in my room all day. Just looking at people talking, jogging or walking their dogs even makes me want to drive slower to get a better look at everyone. But no, I can't drive slower. Let me rephrase that. I shouldn't drive slower. Know why? Because I'm not inside my car just to go lollygagging. Heck, why would I even be outside just to go lollygagging?

So here's the "sitch", I'm on my way to a party. A grand birthday bash to be exact. No, not to attend but to organize it. Yeah yeah I know what you're thinkin'. Why would a grand birthday bash be given to the hands of a nineteen year old girl? That's what I'm thinking too! I'm just laughing at myself right now. Okay. But seriously, I was just in this situation because of a promise I made. The promise I made to a 12-year old. Six years ago.

She's my cousin, Patty. We made a deal that she wouldn't tell Aunt Lydia that I broke her 96-year old terracotta vase only if I plan her 18th birthday party. And who am I to turn that proposal down? Patty has a pretty big mouth so I just shut the hell up and said yes. You're probably thinking why of all the things she should've made me do, why would she pick the one that I would enjoy doing? Yes, I do enjoy planning. That's why I took architecture. But she knew that I wouldn't enjoy planning HER birthday bash. Cousin rivalry. Period.

So I'm here stuck in a mini van with a planner, a phonebook, 273 RSVP's, 11 boxes of balloons and a phone with 13 missed calls and 58 messages, all from the birthday girl. But first, I'm gonna refill some gas first. And answer her calls when I'm at it.

"How much?" the gasoline boy asked.

"Full tank please."

"Will do."

Okay, time to face the wrath of "The Patty". Right when I pushed the green button on my phone, I didn't even had the chance to say something.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU AMY! I'VE BEEN CALLING FOR THE PAST TWO HOURS AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN PICK UP ONCE! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT TIME IT IS? YOU ONLY HAVE LIKE 6 HOURS TO PREPARE THE VENUE! AMY! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING!?"

And that, ladies and gentlemen ,is Patricia "Patty" Winston. Charming, isn't she?

"Well, it's nice to hear from you cous! Seems like you're in a chirpy mood."

"I'm not kidding Amy! If you're not here for the next 10 minutes I will totally ring Aunt Lydia! You know how she is with her precious collec-"

"Okay fine! I'm just refilling gas, okay? I'll be there, I promise. And what did you say? I have 6 hours to prepare? I for one think that it's saying a lot. I mean, 6 hours? Am I decorating the whole White House or something? "

"Just shut up and drive, got it? "

"Roger that Rihanna."

"What did you just call me?!"