Okay…in this story, Amity Park is near Hollywood. And not everything is researched. And I'm sorry if it's choppy or something. This story is AU and for fun! Enjoy :)

I apologize if characters' personalities are odd. I tried to adjust them as best as I could and even then I may have failed. Also, sporadic updates. Inspired by the song that plays on the credits of the movie "Mulan 2".

And by the way, this story will switch between Sam's point of view and third person perspective. The latter will happen when Sam's not around.

Disclaimer: I'm not male and over 20. Therefore Danny Phantom and affiliated characters, logos and such are not mine. *sob*

I ripped off the shoes as soon as Valerie closed the door behind us. Finally. "If I have to wear one more pair of these absolutely ridiculous platform shoes to another red carpet event, there is going to be blood," I muttered darkly.

"Not according to your contract with White Stag," Val reminded me.

I laughed. "Forget the contract. They can sue me for all I'm worth. I refuse to wear another one of these absurd shoes again!"

"Yes! We shall burn them all in a bonfire to celebrate their riddance!" Valerie announced dramatically.

I shrugged, losing interest in the conversation. We were talking about shoes. "No, I don't think I can do that. Not unless they were bio-degradable." I kneeled on the ground to shove the accessories under my bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

My cell phone rang loudly, and I jumped, hitting my head on the frame. "Ow!" I yelped, pulling my head out from under my bed. I looked over at Val, who had the offending piece of technology in her hand. I flipped my dyed hair out of my face so she could get the full force of my glare.

"Put in on vibrate next time," she advised, trying not to laugh. I swiped it out of her hand and answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Hullo. Whoever this is, please tell me it's important, because you just gave me a sizable bump on the back of my head."

An accented giggle came over the phone. "Oh, Sam."

I coughed.

Paulina is usually not someone I would get along with. No, if I had met her in a schoolyard and I was just a regular girl, I probably would've told her that if she were a puddle it wouldn't be deep enough to get my feet wet.

And I don't think she would've understood what I meant, either.

But the thing is, we're not regular girls. We – being me, Valerie Grey, and Paulina Sanchez – are 16 year old national celebrities. Paulina's a Latina beauty, a model and small time actress that can hit plenty high notes and starred in a few operas before she climbed the metaphorical ladder to success. Valerie and I are singers and actresses, though Val is higher up on the list than I am, for which I am grateful for. I've seen the way she's been chased by crazy fanboys and the admiring fangirls who want to be just like her. It is NOT pretty. And not a spot I would like to occupy.

Paulina, on the other hand, relishes it. She was built for this life, just like my parents. It was my parents who had us meet in the first place, making sure I was at the same social event she was. So how are we friends?

Let's just say that with a very unlucky situation with a crazy party, a tiny closet, too much peanut butter and a flying cupcake, you kind of stick with that person who was in that situation with you for life. Paulina may be shallow and sometimes mean, but we have each others backs.

Which is good for her, because I am not a person you want to be enemies with.

"Yeah, Paulina?"

Her simpering laughter once again created a tinny whining in my ear and I held the phone a little away from my face. "I just decided I wanted you at an event with me."

"I dunno if I'm up for it, Paulina. You know I don't like –"

She interrupted me. "Sam, you absolutely have to! Both our mamas would be truly upset if you turned me down. It's a red letter event!"

And I don't have a say in the matter. I sighed. "A what?"

"I don't know." Another giggle. "Just something fancy and important."

Valerie gave me an amused look and I just turned away. I really didn't want to go. And Paulina was right – my mother would not be happy with me. Not that I cared too much, but when my mom threw a fit the paparazzi was all over it and I was once again the rebellious spoiled star child.

I really hate the continuous spotlight.

"Please, Sam?"

I saw Valerie shaking her head vigorously out of the corner of my eye but I only said, "Fine. I'm not staying for more than an hour." If that.

She squealed and I was suddenly glad I was not next to her for the surely bone-breaking hug she would have awarded me. "You're the best! I'll see you in ten."

My jaw dropped. "Ten minutes?"

A giggle. Beeeeeeeep.

My face fell into an arrangement that would be associated with the word 'misery'. Valerie shrugged when I looked at her, and walked over to my bed to get the shoes I'd shoved under it only minutes before, holding them up. I took them harshly in an attempt to show I was still spirited but she wasn't fooled.

"You need a vacation."

"I know. But you can't vacation from a celebrity status."

Valerie's face was suddenly mischievous and I frowned at her. "Just get ready," she ordered me, sweeping to my closet. She tossed dark skinny jeans and a short lavender dress onto my bed. "Neutral. Paulina can deal if it's not elegant enough."

Valerie doesn't have much patience for Paulina. I can't really blame her.

The flashes would blind a normal human being.

I'm a normal human being, by the way, but I can pull off wearing shades at night, so I was able to survive as Paulina gripped my arm to pull me out of the limo and down the red carpet. "Why are we here again?"

Paulina sighed as though truly saddened by my ignorance. "Sam. It's the MTV Movie Awards!" The Latina expertly darted around a reporter who had broken through security bounds, causing yours truly to teeter dangerously on these - ridiculous - shoes as Paulina continued to lead me to the building. "And you've been nominated for your performance as –"

No. You did not drag me here for this.

"– Jenny Greenley in Teen Idol – oy, chica, I'm still jealous of you for that," she giggled. "Anyway, your mom wanted you here, so I –"

Urgh, traitor.

"– naturally got you here. Besides, you'll enjoy yourself for once, Sam! Always hiding out in your place, no wonder you're so pale."

"Because your skin is so flawless, Paullie," I said dryly, feeling bitter.

Wait. "Never mind," I snapped, when she looked at me amusedly. "I cannot believe you took me here! I'm fine with coming to support my friends, but for me? You know I hate this – "

"But you're going to win this time," she insisted.

I rolled my eyes at her. I never win. I love acting, but the parts my mom gets me, allows me to audition for – they're horrendous and I only agree on small parts. Jenny was a main character that I could stand but one could so easily tell that I could be so much more.

Biting my lip, I wondered. Could someone tell? It's not like they've seen my best. "How do you know?" I inquired of Paulina, deciding to humor her.

The tall girl simply tossed her hair. "My sources are very reliable, hun."

I bit back a sigh.

"Samantha Manson!" she gasped, pointing at the platform heels I had on. "You have to tell me where you got those absolutely sexy shoes!"

Let the torture begin.

It turned out, I did win.

For Best Chemistry With A Supposed Love Interest That Was Not Really A Love Interest.

Who knew they even had that award? And for the record, it's nearly impossible to not have chemistry with cute guys who insist on being mannered, nice, and chivalrous like my co-star Carter Howard.

Although I tried really hard not to. I even went to the point of hitting him and yelling at him for opening the door for me (and it was quite a lengthy rant) just to try and get him to buy the witchy persona the media had forced upon me.

Carter merely thought I was amusing and invited me out to coffee. Boys. Though he's not that bad a guy – he went on stage and accepted the award without me. The only pictures of me anyone got were those of me arriving and leaving.

Which reminds me. I left two hours ago.

I'm not home yet.

"Paulina, why are we at the Nasty Burger parking lot at two in the morning?" I said icily, rubbing my feet. I'd taken the shoes off but my feet felt murdered. Not that there was any evidence. I'll get you, Platforms. I'll get you.

"We're waiting for Danny Phantom." Her tone was hushed, eyes wide.

I glanced at her, realizing I was treading in dangerous waters. One always was when Paulina was focused on her obsession. "The ghost boy?" As far as I knew about him, he had white hair, a simple uniform, and was always saving Amity Park – with much damage to the city.

But you don't say anything against Danny Phantom near Paulina.

"Yes, the ghost boy! His patrol always take him here." She looked absurdly hopeful. "Eventually."

"Paulina."

"Yes?"

"When was he supposed to be here?"

Her hopeful expression did not waver. "Forty five minutes ago."

I sighed, rubbing my temples for the suddenly blooming headache. I had to be up in six hours. "He probably got involved in a fight and then went home to sleep."

Paulina seemed offended. "Ghosts don't sleep!"

"How do you know?" I raised my eyebrows at her.

She looked stumped. "Because, erm, they're dead?"

I gave her a look and she slumped in defeat, telling the chauffeur to drive us home.

As we pulled out onto the street, however, I was granted with a squeal from Paulina and I looked out the window to see Danny Phantom himself flying leisurely past. He looked tired.

I leaned back in my seat, a smug smile on my face. Ghosts SO sleep.