{Hi, guys! This is my first novel-type thing on my new account:) and yes it is a Dan Howell Fanfiction.

There may be mention of: Drugs, alcohol, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and actions, rape, and possibly more throughout the story. If these subjects are triggers for you, STOP READING. It's not worth it.

Anyways, please enjoy, comment, like, etc.

-A. Elizabeth}

Ever since I was young, any time I met someone who wasn't from California, they made the same basic assumptions about life there. That we all live next to the beach, and surf, and know a movie star. And despite the things said in my friend Anthony's old YouTube video, this is simply not true.

Anthony is a few years older than me, and I guess you could say he's pretty famous? Or, at least, he's a part of something pretty famous. Except all him and his friend Ian do is make stupid videos that are mildly funny. I never really got into it. We'd met through some mutual friends, and since I'm kinda mature for my age and he's kinda immature for his age, we got along pretty well. Hard to believe I've known him since he was a dorky high school senior from Sacramento, California, with dreams of making it big.

We hadn't talked much since he'd moved to Los Angeles. I was still stuck in the capital, awaiting my chance for greatness. That's why I was caught a little off guard when I got a text from Anthony out of the blue.

"Hey, you busy next weekend?" it read. I quickly responded.

"I'm never busy, I have no life. Why?"

"Well, there's this YouTuber gathering thing, and I was going to take Kristen, but it's still kind of awkward after the break up. Could you by any chance be my plus one?"

The question and all its possibilities excited me. After all, while I wasn't too keen on Anthony's channels, I definitely wasn't immune to the YouTube bug. I'd grown up watching Shane Dawson and Fred and CapnDesDes. It was an integral part of who I am. So, really, my answer was a no-brainer.

"Sure. When, where, what clothes?"

"Um the 20th at 6pm at the Roosevelt hotel in LA. It's a retro Alfred Hitchcock-type theme. So anything that works with that."

"LA?! How the fuck am I supposed to get to LA. You do realize that not everyone makes a million dollars a minute, right?"

"Chill, Ash. I'll get you a ticket and pick you up at LAX." This kind of shocked me.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you spend money on me."

"You aren't making me. You're one of my closest friends, I haven't seen you in years, and I have money to spare. Maybe I can even get a tax deduction for this act of charity."

"Fuck you," I replied, knowing that he'd know I meant it endearingly.

"Love you to. So are we on?" Sighing, I figured I didn't have much of a reason to say no.

"We're on."

{Wow, that was horrible I'm so sorry. Btw, the bad grammar and spelling in the texts is PURPOSEFUL. Because most people don't text with perfect grammar and spelling. Any other mistakes are because I'm a flawed human.}