Chapter 1
"i can't believe I'm doing this!"
(Ready, Set, Go!--Tokio Hotel)
Graduation was a bummer. Everything was going fine. We stood in lines on either side of the gym in out blue silk gowns, waiting for out names to be called. Finally my name was called.

"Maggie Clearwater." I walked slowly up to the front. The principle gave me the rolled up diploma and shook my hand. It all felt like a dream. I smiled as the school photographer, and my mother, took pictures. The isle cleared as I was motioned to walk down it, so the next person could receive their diploma.

I slowly walked down the isle, still watching my footing. It was a miricle that I hadn't slipped or fallen yet. I wasn't voted 'Most Clumsy' for nothing. It was turning out to be a pretty ok day, until I found myself looking at the floor. I was rapidly getting closer to it, and I could feel the air pass by me as I fell. The impact of the floor hit me almost suddenly, I let out a gasp.
I heard the silence. Everybody was staring at me as I got up. I felt the blood run to my cheeks as I hurried down the hallway and out the gym. I trotted down the hall, glad to be out of there.
I took my hat off and shoved it in my locker. I sighed. High school done. Now what?
I wanted to be a professional cook. I have worked many places before, but nothing was quite what I wanted. This is because I want something that is very hard to find.
My mom always told me, "Cooking and music isn't something you find together in a job, Maggie, it's one or the other."
I knew she was right, but I was still looking for that perfect job. As I walked home, I placed my headphones in my ears and turned on my favorite band, Tokio Hotel. 'Ready, Set, Go!' started to play and I danced to it as I made my way home.
I opened the door and right away tripped over the door frame. I caught myself just in time.

"Careful, Maggie," my mom said as she walked over to give me a hug," you did it! You graduated! How does it feel?"

"Humiliating."

"Oh, hunni, it wasn't THAT bad…I have something to cheer you up. Come on." She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. My headphones flying along beside me, screaming Bill's voice. Mom shoved a newspaper in front of me.

"What's this?" I asked, looking at her.

"Here." She pointed to a classified ad, circled a dozen times in red marker. I started to read it:

WANTED

Full time cook

Willing to travel

To cook for German band

Tokio Hotel

843-9734

I screamed out with joy. I jumped up and down and hugged my mom.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll phone right away. Oh I'm so excited. I hope I get the job." Mom handed me the phone. I took it and sat in one of the dining room chairs and pulled the ad close. I punched in the numbers and waited. It rang once. Twice. Click.

"Hello?" a voice asked from the other side of the line.

"Hello. I'm calling about the ad you placed for the cooking job."

"Yes?" they asked as if asking, 'and what do you want?' I cleared my thorat to speak, trying to think of an appropriate thing to say. Thankfully, the other person spoke first.
"What is your name?" they sighed.

"Maggie Clearwater."

"Age?"

"I turn eighteen in two weeks."

"Can you cook?"

"Very well."

"High opinion of yourself, I see."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Uh-huh. Well, you're a bit young, but you're the only one we've been able to find. Can you leave for travel in two days?" Two days was short notice, but I really wanted this job.

"Yes. That is fine."

"Come by the studio tomorrow and we'll give you the details."

"So…I got the job?"

"Uh-huh…"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," but the lady had already hung up. I clicked off the phone, unbelieving that it was that easy. I turned to my mom, "I got the job."

"That easy?"

"I guess…"

"That is great, sweetie, when do you start traveling?" She looked at me. I looked back at her, thinking back to what the lady had told me.

"Two days." I remembered, thinking of what I was supposed to pack.

"That soon?" Mom looked disappointed, maybe unsure if she should let me go through with this.

"Well, the lady said that they were looking for a while…"

"Well, ok. I'll help you pack."

"I'm going to wait until I get the list of stuff I need tomorrow."

"Ok. Where are you meeting them?"

"The studio."

"Oh, ok."

"Hey, mom, I'm going to call Emily, ok?"

"Ok." I reached for the phone and dialed a familiar number. Emily answered.

"Hello?"

"Emily, your never going to believe this!"

"What is it now, Maggie?"

"Guess who I got a job cooking for?"

"Johnny Depp?"

"No. Guess again."

"Stephen King?"

"No…silly."

"Well, then, who?"

"Tokio Hotel…"

"NO WAY!" I held the phone away from my ear as I heard her scream.

"Yes, way." I laughed when she had finished screaming.

"Oh my god! Your getting me an autograph."

"Am not!"

"Fine, then. How did you manage to sink a job like that?"

"There was an ad in the paper. I phoned in and got the job right away. I leave with them on tour in two days."

"Wow. Right away. That is so awesome. I can not believe it."

"Well, believe it. It is true."

"Your so lucky."

"I know." I spent that night telling my friends about the sweet job I had just scored.

"So your seriously going to be traveling with Tokio Hotel?" Frankie asked. Frankie was my best friend. We did everything together.

"For the thousandth time, yes." I laughed.

"Wow. You go, girl."

"Thanks," I looked at the clock. Whoa! It was already three-thirty in the morning, "Frankie, it is late. I should get SOME sleep."

"Alright. Sleep tight, sweetheart."

"'Night."