Hollywood

The Fan Book

I'm so glad it's finally summer. I won't have to study anymore, and I can finish up my fan mail book. So many people to send mail to! I've done it before, and I've only gotten one reply, from Bella Thorne.

But what about all the other people? Like Shailene Woodley, and Jennifer Lawrence, and Zendaya?! What about all these people I haven't sent letters to?! I can't stand it.

Every night I dream of walking on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and then bumping into Suzanne Collins or something.

All the other letters I've sent to other people probably think I'm a crazy fangirl. At least I'm not one of those girls who's trying to kick down their door in the middle of the night.

I don't want to be an actress, because your ego is everywhere. I want to be a director, and meet new celebrities, or turn the undiscovered into a big thing!

A geek isn't school popular, but later on, you'll be happy you weren't.

My brother's speech echoes in my head. It's a hearty concoction of insult and compliments.

Bren is good with morals. I think he's a CEO for a company associated with the government to make speeches... But I haven't seen him in over five years. At least he calls me on FaceTime, and posts videos of his speeches on Instagram or Facebook. I just miss tugging on the back of his shirt when I hug him.

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After a few hours of sleeping to get my mind off of Bren, mom tells me to get ready to go buy some McDonalds for breakfast. I exchange my pajamas for a pair of plaid shorts and a Collectibles superman T-Shirt. My worn navy converse sit neatly next to the door, tracking dirt on the hardwood flooring. I jump into them, and brush my teeth and hair. My green notebook sits askew on my glass desk. I pick it up with the pencil inside the metal wire spine.

When I walk downstairs, the door opens and I see a tall mass walk through the door.