Disclaimer/AN: I don't own Katie, Amanda, or Jett Lucas - George does. And I don't own him, either. Now, what's the other thing that's copyrighted by LucasFilms and also not mine? Oh, that's right. Star Wars. And sorry for making Katie look like a completely spoiled jerk, but it's a little something called character development.
Also, the chapter is short because, well, it's an introduction.

CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION

My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I menacingly stared at the drivers surrounding me. Few people paid attention to my angry face, and those who did just gave me an odd look before they turned their attention back to the crowded street.

"Hello!" I screamed. "Move!"

There was nothing I hated more than to be stuck in L.A. traffic—especially when I was late for something that, according to my father, just couldn't be missed.

The ringing of my phone startled me from where I was giving an old lady the evil eye. I snatched my purse from the passenger seat beside me and whipped out my cell.

"Yes?"

"Where are you?"

"Where do you think?" I snapped. When it came to my older sister Amanda, I was usually patient. But today was another story.

"Katie, now's not the time for PMSing." She sighed. "Dad and Jett and everyone are already here."

"Well, sorry!" I screeched. "I just happen to be stuck in the worst traffic jam of my life!"

I could hear Amanda gritting her teeth. "Stop being such a drama queen and put the pedal to the metal."

"I'd rather not get into another car accident, thank you."

"Whatever. You still need to hurry."

I made a face. "I don't even see why I have to go to the stupid premiere-thing anyway."

"Katie, you know this means a lot to Dad," Amanda replied. "His DVDs are being released on Blu-ray."

"So?" I rolled my eyes and looked in the review mirror to fluff my hair. "That doesn't change the fact that they still suck. I can't believe I acted in some of them."

"Oh, the horror," Amanda droned sarcastically. "You're such a brat. Did you know that?"

"Shut up Amanda!"

"You're going to the premiere whether you like it or not. We already went over this, so I honestly don't get why we're still arguing about it." She sighed. "Anyway, see you there."

Click.

I sighed, too, but mostly to release my pent-up anger. What did the doctor-dude tell me to do again? Oh, yes. Count to ten and breathe slowly.

1, 2… God, I can't do this.

Fuming beyond measure, I gave in to the inner temptations by rolling down my window and letting loose with every four-letter word I knew.

I stumbled into my hotel room later that night, carrying two suitcases, three duffel bags, and my purse. I threw them on the floor in a heap and reached for the lightswitch.

The suite my father had picked out for me was average and plain-looking—white walls, crème sofas, maroon rugs, bedroom and bathroom to the left, kitchen to the right.

After deciding that it was hopeless to try and make it to the premiere on time, I had stopped at a bar in downtown Los Angeles to drink away my worries and wait for the traffic to dissolve. Once it did, I had driven to Hollywood and came to the hotel that the actors and crew were to stay in.

I collapsed onto one of the couches without bothering to change my clothes. Within a few minutes, I drifted into a deep sleep.