Yeah, I'm A Maslow. So?

Getting Ready

"Mum!!! I can't find my blue shirt!!!" I yelled from my room.

"It should be on your bed," my mum shouted.

"It's not!"

"Well, then, I don't know!"

I sighed as I rummaged to the pile of clothes on my bed. It was so last minute. I don't get why the guys can't just go on their own. I mean, why drag the family down too?

Where the hell is my blue shirt? I need it and it's busy hiding somewhere. What kind of shirt does that? Oh wait, most shirts do!

"Oh, blue shirt, where are you?" I called out, hoping by some miracle that it'll just come to me, folded and ready to be packed.

No such luck!

Suddenly the door opened and Carlos' head peered in looking around my room, curiously. Well, this is his first time anyway so I'm not really surprised.

"Yes?" I asked, slightly annoyed.

"Your mum said you needed help," he said.

"Shouldn't she be sending James up instead?"

"He's still busy packing," he told me.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my luggage. I muttered to myself, "How many hair sprays does he need?"

"So, you want me to do anything for you?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to answer but then he added, "That's related to packing for tomorrow."

"Aww....no massage or piggy back rides?" I pouted.

"No," he chuckled, before looking at my stuff.

I pretend to sigh sadly before saying, "Well, you can help look around for my blue shirt. It's, well, blue and -"

"Is it this one?" he asked, cutting me off, and showed me a blue shirt.

I grabbed it and asked him, "Where'd you find it?"

"In your bag," he said, grinning.

I looked at him, surprised, before turning to stare at my blue shirt for a while. I heard him chuckled again.

"Oh well," I shrugged, putting it back in my bag and zippin it.

I sat on my bed and gestured him to sit with me.

"You didn't forget anything else, did you?" he asked, sitting down.

"I don't think so," I answered. "And even if I do, I'll just buy it at the shops nearby."

"There are shops there?"

I nodded.

Then, silence fell over us as we sat there figuring what to do and say next.

"How long do you think it'll be?" I finally asked. I usually ask this to James but since he's busy.

"How long....what?"

"How long do you think this whole thing's going to be?" I asked.

He seemed hesitant and said, "I don't know but I'm pretty sure it'll be over soon."

He gave me a small smile before getting up and leave.

Some answer that is, at least when James answer, it's more like 'give it a week or two' or 'think of what it'll be like there'. His worst would probably be 'everything'll be fine'.

This wasn't the first time James has been bombarded by fans. It happens a couple times before. Apparently, some fans are crazy enough to follow him home. Except this time, it's a bit different since his friends were there too and it was when we were at the studio. So crazy fans, multiplied by four, chasing them.