The Prince and the Popstar

The Prince and the Popstar

Chapter 1

"One Frapucchino-Latte, hold the whipped cream." Rowan De La Rosa instructed her assistant Frank.

"Yes of course miss." He leaned over the counter and started placing the order in Italian. Rowan sighed and headed toward the door of the café. 10 minutes into the heart of Rome and already she was feeling pressure. No time for anything. This was just another stop on her two-year world tour. Here she was in Italy, the home of Pizza, the Pope and of course, Prada but Rowan had been traveling away from her home in LA for almost 3 months and she was very homesick. She missed her mom and the nice home she had bought for her after she made enough money. As America's favorite Popstar, Rowan produced record after record; found she needed a break so her manager set up this world tour. You would think that a girl who had worked her whole life for this would be so bored. She stepped out into the sunshine, her latte and Frank in tow.

"You have two hours to explore the city before the Press Conference and your concert at 8:00 on Sunday, miss."

"I know Frank and please don't call me miss!"

She was still worn-out from her concert last night in London, England. She had loved London and wished she could have stayed longer. She looked up at the sky and there, staring at her was a huge, electronic billboard with The words smiling down on all of Rome. There were words flashing across the screen about her concert that night. She was so distracted by this huge billboard she stopped walking and in an instant she heard a huge crash. She looked up from the ground where she was laying to see a tall, looming boy of about 17 looking down at her, a frown on his face.

"I am so sorry!" Rowan exclaimed, seeing as she spilled her latte on the poor guy's leather jacket. "I was distracted by that big billboard." She pointed to where she had seen her face but unfortunately for her, the sign had changed into an ad for mole removal! Flustered, she tried to explain but he held up his hand.

"I get it, it has happened to me too," he said, his evident European accent in a daze. Rowan pondered that for a second, wondering if he meant the mole removal or the changing of a billboard sign. As she was thinking to herself she caught herself staring at him. He was taking off his hat and shaking his hair out. He looked so familiar, as though she had met him before. But how could she have? Then it hit her. He reminded her of Ronny Diamond when his highlights shone in the sunlight. Ronny was the love of Rowan's life at this time last year. They had met two years ago when Rowan toured the U.S. with Ronny and his band, the Vipers. Rowan was a newcomer and had a hot single rising on the charts. The two hit it off immediately and were seen together throughout the US. They quickly became Hollywood's IT couple. That all changed when Ronny dumped Rowan on national TV, saying she was using him to boost her career, (which at the time was blazing hot!) Unfortunately for him, America sided with their favorite Golden Girl and he quickly dropped out of Hollywood's radar. Rowan had never forgiven him and hasn't had a date since.

She then thought she should introduce herself to him before he leaves.

"Hi, my name is….," she stopped mid sentence. Should I tell him I am a famous Pop Star, she asked herself. He didn't seem to know, but what if he did? What if I told him a fake name and he thinks I am a liar? These thoughts were pouring into her head. She looked up into the sunlight and looked up at the billboard that had brought her to this mess. It was an ad for Wendy's restaurant (in Italian of course, but she knew the face!)

"Wendy, my name is Wendy." she stuttered at long last. The guy laughed.

"Sorry, my name is….uh Ronald," he stated in a hurried manner. Rowan felt a pang of sorrow. Ronny!

"Excuse me, Miss, but we have to get going to your meeting." Frank announced to a startled Rowan. She had forgotten he was there. Thank goodness he is so formal, Rowan thought to herself, or he might have used my real name.

"Excuse me, Wendy, right? It has been nice talking to you. Here's my number." He handed her a slip of paper with his cell phone number on it. "See you around." Then he was gone.

Chapter Two

After he had given this Wendy his cell number and fake name, Michael started running in the same direction he had been when she bumped into him, or was it him into her? Anyway he was running, running away from his bodyguards.

"Can't I go outside without a bodyguard?!" Michael had asked his mother only minutes before. "I'm almost 17 for goodness sake!"

His mother, Her Royal Majesty, the Queen of Castria, had looked at him in a disapproving way. He always complained about the bodyguards.

"You do not act like it. You know better, Michael, you are the only heir to the throne of Castria, you need to be safe!

Michael's mother, the Queen, was always looking after her son with much protection. He was the only Heir to the throne of Castria, a small European nation of about 3,000 people. His family was staying at the St. Regis Grand Hotel in Rome for the weekend for the large Royal Ball to be held in the Vatican on Sunday Night. His mother was a former Debutante who had won the heart of Michael's then-young father, the Prince of Castria. They were married soon after and had Michael. 12 days after Michael was born, his Grandmother died, thus his Father became the King of Castria and his Mother, the Queen.

"Dad?" Michael asked his father who was reading the New York Times.

"Listen to your mother, son," his father said, not looking up from the paper.

Michael believed he was too old to have a chaperone at all times. He found it wasn't fair that he never could be truly alone. He had been planning his escape for months. The bodyguards are off duty inside the hotel but then his parents watched him like a hawk. He had to have the right opportunity. When his mother started helping his father put his tie on, he knew this would be his only chance. Then, in seconds, he had fled from the suite.

"Michael, come back here this instant!" He heard his mother screaming as he ran out into the lobby of the second floor and towards the staircase. He could hear the footsteps of the guards running toward him. He ran as fast as he could until he was out of the hotel and onto the cobblestone streets of Rome. It was so crowded he knew he didn't have to run as fast, even though he could still see his bodyguards running out of the hotel. That was when he ran into Wendy. He had made up the name Ronald because he didn't want her to tell anybody where he went. Now, he didn't know where he was going.

Chapter 3

"I wanted no whipped cream you idiot!" Those were the words Rowan heard as she walked into her manager's suite. Oh No! Rowan winced. It was Bridgett McCoy, spoiled daughter of her manager, Benny McCoy. It was Benny who had started Rowan's career that fateful day, 2 ½ years ago. Rowan's mother was a cleaning lady at the McCoy's LA estate. Benny was the President of McCoy Records and Rowan was helping her mom clean that day. Rowan started singing along to the radio, a favorite pastime, when out came Benny from his studio. He turned down the radio and listened in amazement. This girl had the voice of a super star! In a matter of days, Rowan was in the recording studio in that very house.

Everyone benefited from Rowan's success, everyone but Bridgett that is. She was very jealous of all the time her dad spent with Rowan and not her, so she made a plan. She recorded her own album without her dad's permission and put it on the market. Unfortunately for her, it bombed. One reviewer said her voice sounded like a train wreck. Her parents interpreted it as a cry for help, so they gave her everything she wanted, including a Paris-Hilton's dog sized Chihuahua she named Muffy. It was her who was yelling at her assistant, Mark.

"Get me a new latte!" She yelled to him as he was scrambling out the door, narrowly missing Rowan was coming in

"Rowan!" Bridgett exclaimed her teeth clenched into a forced smile, like she did every time she saw Rowan, "Daddy has some bad news."

She pointed down the hall towards the office area. Rowan nodded and slowly started walking in that direction. Worried thoughts filled her mind. When she got to the door of Benny's office, she heard him talking to someone on his cell phone.

"I told you Frank, Rowan will not find out we took her profits and put them in our bank accounts!" Rowan gasped. Her manager and her assistant were taking her money from her! She placed her ear on the door so she could hear well.

"Yes, of course. I will tell Rowan that the tours been cancelled and I will lock her up in my closet and she can't do anything about it…. What!! Yes of course it will work. She will be sued for not showing up at her own concert tonight!!"

Rowan's thoughts zoomed around her head. She knocked on the door. She heard Benny stop talking and snapped his phone shut.

"Come in," he said in an eerie sort of way. Rowan slowly walked in. She was scared but she had a plan forming in her brain. Benny looked nervous.

"Sorry kid, tours been cancelled!" he told her in an unapologetic manner.

"What!" Rowan acted shocked and upset, which was pretty easy since she had just learned her manager was a lying thief.

"I need to show you something," Benny continued, leading her to his spare closet. When she got there, he quickly pushed her inside and slammed and locked the door. Rowan started screaming, but Benny told her no one could hear her. Then she heard him leaving. Rowan looked around the closet, becoming a little claustrophobic. Then she reached for her cell phone.

Chapter 4

Michael was traveling by bus when his cell phone rang. The name ROWAN started flashing across the screen. I don't know any Rowans, Michael thought to himself.

"Hello," he spoke cautiously into the phone.

"Ronald," a familiar voice was on the other line, "I need help!"

Wendy! "Wendy, are you ok? This phone said the name Rowan on it." "Oh. Rowan is my uhh…friend! I need help. This um man locked me in a closet in our hotel and I need to get out or I will be sued!!"

Michael was shocked, "Why will you be sued?"

"Long Story."