Dougie Poynter groggily awoke to the sound of his answering machine beginning to click as his phone rang, ready to take a message. He cleared the food and magazines away from him as he tiredly stood up from his couch where he'd crashed late last night once he arrived home. He looked over the messy coffee table, through bills, tissues, cups, and magazines for his house phone.

"Mr. Poynter, this is your credit card company calling to inform you that your payment has past the final date. Your card has reached its maximum spending limit until your bill is paid. Thank you and have a nice day."

Dougie finally found the phone as the woman's voice cut off. Angrily, he chucked it across the room at the wall.

"No, I hope you have a nice fucking day." He swore as he made his way through the mess that was his house. He needed a painkiller for the monster of a headache that was starting to form inside his skull. It wasn't until he had the pill and a nice glass of water that he noticed the clock on his wall.

1:35

"Fuck!" He yelled, realizing that he was already thirty-five minutes late for work. Hadn't he set his alarm clock?

He glanced over at the piece of junk to see it lying on the floor, off. He angrily spat at the electronic as he pulled a hoodie on over his head and ran out the door. He'd have to speed to work in order to get there in a decent amount of time…

Dougie pulled the door of his car open hopping in quickly until he realized the nice bright pink piece of paper folded under his windshield wiper.

"No fucking way." He said as he stared at the paper, shocked. He hopped back out of the car and pulled the paper out.

Charge: Illegally parked Vehicle.

Fine: Tire Boot

Dougie stared, confused by the ticket. What on earth was a tire boot?

And then he saw it. The bright yellow lock covering the front right tire. His car wasn't going anywhere anytime soon thanks to the wonderful tire boot.

"Could this day get any better?" He asked himself, completely stunned. How was he supposed to get to work now?

He suddenly saw the local city bus pulling by, stopping to pick up a man across the street. Dougie took a deep breath and ran over, pulling his wallet out along the way.

He paid the toll quickly, moving to the back of the bus. When was the last time he actually took the bus anyway? Way before he got his car. Probably even before that, because he had lived with one of his band mates who had his own car.

Dougie pulled his mobile out of his pocket, meaning to text in an excuse for his tardiness. What would he say? 'Sorry, I have a serious hangover, my alarm clock fell and broke, my credit card just maxed out and I have a ticket fine the size of Jupiter.'

That would totally make everyone happy.

Dougie just slid his phone back into his pocket after checking the three missed calls from his best friend and band mate, Danny Jones, probably calling to see where he was. Dougie decided it was best to just wait till he got to the studio to tell them how his morning went.

Twenty-five bumpy minutes later, the bus finally pulled close enough to Dougie's building for him to hop off. Once his feet hit the pavement, he broke out into a sprint towards the studio. He was going to be in so much trouble, it wasn't even funny. Not even with his manager but with his band mates. They were totally depending on him to show up, on fucking time.

He ran into the building, past the wary looking receptionist, down the hall where he knew his band mates were waiting for him. The red light was lit above the door that had MCFLY written across the white board hanging on it. Were they recording? Weren't they supposed to wait for him?

He knocked on the door, hoping someone would hear and let him in. It took a moment, but eventually the red light turned off and the sound of the door unlocking met his ears.

"Doug's here!" A voice called before the door even swung open. He ripped the door back to see one of his band mates, Tom Fletcher, on the other side.

"I am so sorry I'm late! You would never have believed the morning I just had." Dougie sighed loudly as he made his way into the room where the rest of his band, his manager, and their producer were sitting. "My answering machine woke me up this morning because my alarm clock broke last night saying that my credit card's maxed out and I got a parking ticket complete with a wonderful tire boot. I took the bus here until I can figure out how to get it off." Dougie gave his excuses quickly, hoping that they would buy him some time

"Dude, that sucks so bad!" Danny, the most un-serious of all the band members, laughed as Dougie finished his story.

"I told you to keep up with your bill, mate. See what you get?" Harry, their drummer, said from his spot on the couch, though he smiled sympathetically at Dougie.

"Yeah, but if he had paid his bill he would've never woke up this morning. He would've missed practice all together." Tom reasoned, always putting the band first.

"Would you believe that you're not able to pay your credit card bill with your credit card? I tried one time, but they sent it back. Bummer." Danny said, shaking his head so that his curly brown hair fell into his face as the rest of the room laughed at him, thankful for the break in the serious tension.

"Alright guys, I think that's enough for today." Fletch, their manager, said as they started to put away all their instruments. Dougie set his bass back on the stand as he wrapped the wire up and set it on top of the amp. If only he could keep his flat as organized…

"I have some fan mail for you guys. Answer them if you have a chance, yeah? Maybe just an autographed picture or something." Fletch said as he handed a wrapped bunch to each of the guys. Dougie took his decently sized bundle, weighing it nicely in his hands.

He had always appreciated fan mail. It would always make his shitty days better to go back and read how sixteen-year-old girls wished they could marry him. It sounded conceited but how could he not respond to the nice ego-boost?

"Alright guys, I'm heading home. I've got bills to pay and people to call about a tire boot." Dougie laughed as he exited the studio, fan mail in hand. He wasn't sure when the next bus was scheduled to come, and he hoped it wouldn't take too long. It was pretty cold outside for March.

He stood out across the street from the stop he got off at, hoping to catch a bus going in the opposite direction. Luck was finally on his side as the bus pulled up to him within fifteen minutes. Maybe Karma was starting to turn around for him.

On the bus he decided to read a letter or two, maybe help his mood get even better. The first couple he read were the basic marriage proposals or girls seeking rumor squashing. One letter was really for Danny, though that normally happened. He was considered the biggest playboy our of the four band mates. The girls he went after responded quite well to him for some strange reason…

A couple letters worried Dougie, as they were girls who had claimed to have slept with him and were looking for something more. Sure Dougie was sometimes a bit like Danny, but he remembered almost every girl he'd slept with. All of those letters had to be bullshit, which obviously annoyed him. Why would they go and do that? Didn't they have lives?

One letter caught his eye more then the others. The way it was typed made it seem professional, yet the words sounded teenage-like. It was so interesting he couldn't stop reading it.

"Dear Mr. Dougie Poynter.

How are you today? I know it's pretty cold outside. It's said to be like this for a couple weeks. We can never escape this crappy England weather, can we?

God, listen to me, talking about the weather. So cliché…

Anyway, I guess I should explain what this is really about, huh?

My English teacher is ancient. Seriously, he's from the time when e-mail was nothing more then just an idea. Probably not even an idea… just a dream Like hover cars... He thinks that the wonderful art of letter writing is being lost in the horrible modern world so he told us to get a pen pal. He said to choose a friend who's out of town, or a family member. I don't have ANY.

Seriously. I've lived in London my entire life, and so have my parents. All of my cousin's live here, and I've never gone away to camp or anything so I don't have any friends outside of these borders. Technically, you're inside the borders too, but whom else will I write to? Everyone knows me and would be like "Why would you write me a letter if you could just walk across the street and ask me?"

So I guess that's why I chose you. I mean, I like McFly and everything but I've never been to a concert or seen you guys live. So that counts as people I know but don't see very often. Right?

Guess who my second choice as my pen-pal was? The Queen. Yep. And you know what? I bet she wouldn't even write back to me. That's why I chose you instead.

But… I mean, you don't really HAVE to write back. If you don't want to. I would totally understand. I mean, you're a busy guy right? Living the life of a celebrity with the fame and fortune and all that jazz, right? I'm just a nobody, eighteen-year-old girl who has no idea what I'm going to do with my life! Why reply?

Alright, I'll let you go now. I kind of get what Mr. Hill is saying about letter writing now… I have no clue how to do it.

Talk to you later… (Or maybe not?)

Sincerely, (Mr. Hill made me right that…)

Mariah Christine Anderson (But you can just call me Riha, if you write back.)"

Dougie laughed out loud a few times as he reread the letter. This girl… this eighteen-year-old girl… wanted to be his pen pal? What on earth would the guys think if they ever found out?

She wouldn't be mad if he didn't reply. She mentioned it quite a few times in the letter that she was okay with it. This Riha girl could just write the Queen instead.

Dougie rolled his eyes at the thought of writing a letter for school. He was so thankful that because of McFly he was able to leave school early. A total dropout, yes, but it was still a great excuse. He made out extremely well, too.

Maybe he could write the girl back, just once, just so she wouldn't get in trouble with her teacher. It wasn't her fault that he assigned lousy homework. She should at least get credit for trying, right?

Dougie looked up just in time to see the bus pulling up near his flat. He quickly pushed the button and hopped off once the bus came to a stop. He ignored his car; trying to think of a way to remind himself to get it sorted out later, and walked into his apartment. He had bills to pay…

Once inside he threw his hoodie down and tried to find the special pieces of paper. Most were located opened and forgotten on his coffee table, sprinkled with bits of crumbs and beer. He was such a slob…

As he sat down on his couch with bills and checkbook at hand, he noticed the pile of fan mail next to him. Would it be so bad to put off the bills for his fans? They would highly appreciate it. And who would suffer if he didn't pay his debts? Only himself. So it was really his choice…

Dougie moved the bills off his lap and picked up the letters instead. Riha's was on top, patiently waiting for him to respond. He saw a yellow pad of A4 paper underneath the table with a pen. How lucky was that? Dougie picked it up, and began answering Riha's letter first.

"Dear Riha,

Sorry to hear just how much your homework sucks. If I were you, I probably would've just ignored the assignment all together… that's probably why my mom let me drop out of school so young. I was bound to fail anyway.

I liked you letter. I was reading it on the bus, so whenever I'd laugh, random people would turn around and stare at me as though I was insane. It was kind of embarrassing, but I think more entertaining then anything. I could write about it in a song now, couldn't I?

I'm actually pretty pleased that you chose to write to me over the Queen. It boosts my ego a bit, though Danny would probably argue that I have the biggest ego in the world. But it's nice to have the biggest something for once, isn't it?

Sorry about that joke. I'm not sure if it's school appropriate. Does your teacher screen these letters? If he does… well tell him that he assigns shitty homework.

That's like a double whammy. I just swore AND said that he's a bad teacher all in one. If he has a heart attack, tell him I take it all back and that I love him. I can't have a dead guy on my conscience.

I think that proves my ego just a bit more, doesn't it?

Anyway, if you're going to do this pen pal thing right, you're going to have to hear about my day or something, right? Today kind of sucked, but it's been getting better. You know just like… you wake up and EVERYTHING that can go wrong actually does? That was my day today. Technically, I need to be paying bills right now but I'd rather answer these letters instead. Yours is the first, if that some how makes you happy. It wasn't the first I read, just the first I actually cared about to answer.

And now I kind of proved my jack-assness, right?

Sorry about that.

SO MY DAY TODAY (Sorry, I had to get my attention back to what I was saying. I get distracted kind of easily…) started badly. My credit card is temporarily unusable, my car is probably being towed as we speak (or as I write?) and I'll probably need to buy a new phone and alarm clock. But… shit my credit card is maxed! It's just a lovely cycle, isn't it?

Oh well. Tomorrow will probably be better. I really should go pay my bills now; otherwise they'll hunt me down and strangle me like they do when they don't get their money. I kind of like this letter-writing thing now. I mean, I was a bit skeptical in the beginning but this isn't that bad. You can keep writing me as long as your teacher says you need to so you don't fail. That would suck!

Alright, peace out girl.

-Dougie

Dougie happily sealed up the letter in one of the previously stamped envelopes Fletch had given him, and addressed it back to Riha's school. It was actually a decent ending to a pretty shitty day.