The sun shone brightly through my pink tinted window. I sat up and waved at the little bluebird on my windowsill, wondering if he could see me. A sparkly pink alarm clock by my bed read 9:26 a.m. I was really glad it was Saturday. I turned on my iPad and opened up Gmail. There was a message from Adam: meet me at starbucks at 10:04. VERY URGENT. J
Are you kidding?! That only gives me 48-no, 38- minutes to get a shower, get dressed, do my hair and makeup, and arrive at the local starbucks' in secret. What could be so urgent that I had to be there at exactly 10:04?! After all, it was Adam Levine. It had to be for the show. It was always for the show. And nothing could go that wrong with The Voice, could it? I was going to have to spend my birthday dealing with a huge problem. Great.
I jumped into the shower, still thinking about what Adam had to say. I put shampoo and conditioner in my hair at the same time. I didn't have a choice. When I got out, I threw on a white tank top and a black pencil skirt. I grabbed a bright purple sweater and applied a huge amount of my Lancôme mascara. I pulled my curly blonde hair up in a messy ponytail, hoping that a blue and white flowered ribbon would hold it in. To complete the look, I slipped on some purple pumps and staggered out to the white stretch limo waiting in my driveway, carrying my black Versace bag.
"What's up, Christina?" the driver said to me. I leaned back in the seat and took my shoes off, then grabbed a bottle of water and turned on the TV.
"Oh, not much", I replied halfheartedly.
Despite him being my driver, he can always sense what I'm feeling. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"Spill."
I figured there was no use in arguing. "I think there's something wrong with the show. Adam sent me an e-mail saying to be at starbucks at exactly 10:04. He said it was really urgent", I sighed, "and now my birthday won't go perfectly like I had planned, and it'll affect the whole future of the show."
"Ahhhhh…" he said, pulling up to starbucks. "I think it'll be fine, ok? Just trust me. Nothing can go too wrong with a hit NBC TV show."
"OK, thanks." I said, putting my purple pumps back on my feet and grabbing my bag. I tried to open the door, but he beat me to it. I stood up and smiled at him. "Thanks, but you don't have to treat me like royalty." As I straightened my skirt and walked away, I could feel him staring after me.