Tidal Waves. (UNDER MAJOR CONSTRUCTION.) Formerly known as SEPOYH.

5.

When Tony said we should be expecting Hunter and his crew, I was thinking it would be two or three cars with maybe eight people.

I was not expecting four SUV's full of people, a large van full of equipment, two nice sports cars also packed tight with people, and of course the red car driven by no other than Hunter himself.

I could barely get a glimpse of him still sitting in the driver's seat since a swarm of people came piling in to the clinic. In the front of the group was a short, plump blond man with a phone to his ear.

"Ah, you must be Tony Brighton," he exclaimed loudly. "It's great to finally meet ya! I'm Neal Ledger, also known as the agent who started Hunter Lane's career."

I forced myself not to let out some snarky comment. It was hard though since the dude was walking insult material! His New York accent was just as noticeable as the many giant rings covering his sausage fingers.

"Neal, nice to finally put a face to the voice," Tony politely said. But even I could tell he was a bit thrown off by the amount of people and the overwhelming personality of Neal.

He continued to talk with the agent, over something about the whole shoot, but I stopped paying attention to them and instead watched as the hot shot's crew brought in lights, fake plants, and a whole bunch of boxes.

"Jeez, it takes this many people to make the guy look good?" Jerry commented from beside me.

"Guess he's not as much of a sex god as everyone thinks."

He chuckled and bumped shoulders with me. "Speaking of the proclaimed sex god... here he comes."

My eyes got wide and I looked over at the doorway where two guys were walking in.

One was a guy who looked around my age with bright blue hair. His flashy top and skinny jeans just screamed flamboyant as he entered.

And of course, the other of the duo, was Mr. hot shot, America's new heart breaker, Hunter Lane.

I couldn't get a look at his eyes, since the jerk was wearing his sunglasses still. He was a lot taller than I had thought, but his clothing was just as tight as I predicted.

"What a wannabe," I scoffed while turning away and marching over to Lucy and Sandra. The two of them were holding their own conversation about him.

"I still can't believe he's here. Like actually here."

"This is the closest I've ever been to a celebrity."

I rolled my eyes at their words, "Oh please, you're acting as if he was an Oscar nominee actor or something. The guy is no Orlando Bloom. He's just some dude who can pose and make a pouty face to the camera."

"And this dude also is stunning as hell and is actually going to be in a movie, thank you very much."

I froze at the deep voice coming from behind me and watched Lucy and Sandra's jaws drop.

He was standing right there. I didn't even have to turn around to know for sure.

This was literally how bad movies started.

"So who do I have the pleasure of meeting right now? Or should I just call you my own personal critic?"

Taking a deep breath, and trying to remember what Tony asked of me, I spun around.

I was now face to face with Hunter Lane. Well, more like face to upper torso. He had to be at least six feet tall.

"My name is Ava. And this is Lucy and Sandra," I mumbled at him.