I won't say I love Tom Felton, because that's just stating the obvious...

"Beep, beep, beep, beep..." went my alarm clock; I groaned and considered throwing it, nope not worth the effort. I contented myself with hitting it repeatedly until it shut up instead, remember you have to get up, you're doing this for Chloe, I kept reminding myself that fact as I staggered out of bed and flung open my curtains, staring out at the cold, wintery, typically British day. Its 4:30 in the morning and I must like my best friend much more than I realized to be doing this for her, I mean I don't even want to go to this God forsaken première thing, and I don't care about the book signing-its going to be a lot of annoying actor prats who imagine that just because there hot, there better than us average mortals. It's the fault of girls like Chloe who idolize them so much they begin to think they are gods! But still because I love Chloe (despite her fan girl obsessions) I'm going with her to London at 4:30 in the morning, god I hate mornings...

I hurriedly walked to the bathroom, peeling of pyjamas as I went, leaving them on the floor to be picked up at a more holy hour.

When I reached the bathroom I stared at myself in the mirror and moaned, what had happened to it? Last night I went to bed with perfectly straightened hair, and now I wake up like this. My long dark brown hair was messy and dishevelled and my chocolate coloured eyes were misty with sleep. My skin is alright, but as for the rest...I decided that for the hair there is no option but to start again, I turned on the shower and waited the usual five minutes to get some warm water.

I stepped into the shower and began washing my hair, and (because I enjoy it and no one can stop me) I began to sing, using the shampoo bottle as a microphone, however after a few moments even I realized that singing in the shower should only ever be attempted in films. While conditioning and cleaning my thoughts began to wander, what if there are film directors there? I've wanted to be an actress all my life and what if this is my big break? It's not fair, I bet half the actors in that film don't know or care about how lucky they are, I would give anything to be in a film, anything! But there are people who are crap actors who get the parts anyway, however in Harry Potter most of the male leads a pretty good (especially Alan Rickman or at least I think that's his name, he is one of the best actors I know, along with Johnny Depp and Jeremy Sumpter) and I think that Rupert Grint is really nice, I once read an article about him in a dentists office that said he wouldn't want to go to LA because of scary celebrities like Paris Hilton (and honestly, who can blame him?)

Suddenly realizing my hair is clean, I grinned and turned off the shower and got out. I wrapped a towel round me and did my hair in a turban, ignoring the fact I was dripping everywhere. I walked over to my iPod docking station and pressed play, the one of my favourite songs began to play 'High school never ends' began to play, I grinned to myself, people can say what they want about 'bowling for soup' (I do think the names kind of strange but anyway...) but in my opinion there is nothing better to sing along to, nothing, but mind you my music taste is very individual I always know what I like and what I don't like.

I half-danced half-walked over to my wardrobe and pondered what to wear, difficult one, what do you wear when you're going to meet a load of actors who probably fancy themselves? I grabbed my dark jeans (they look stylish but they're comfy) and chucked them on my messy un-made bed (opps big guilt trip, I promised Chloe my place would be clean and tidy, I had better dream on...)

Next I sorted through my stuff until I found my red T-shirt with the slogan 'Drama Queen' on it in black italic, throwing that on the bed I glanced round and saw my black leather jacket hanging up, perfect! I took it off the hanger and carefully put it on the bed (it's not my fault, I love that jacket!), now, shoes...

I found my black boots with the scary heels (useful if anyone tries to shove in front of me and little-miss-obsessive, Chloe) and put them by my bed, then I pulled on a bra and a pair of pants and the rest of my things. I looked at myself in the mirror, my turban had fallen off at some point and my hair was curling round my face, great. I think my hair hates me, it honestly does, I mean when I want straight it bouncy and curls are everywhere, but when I want curls? It looks like someone's ironed my hair!