I was scrubbing the counter in the kitchen rather furiously, trying to keep my mind off of my frustrations. I got everything ready for a good cleaning: huge spray container of 409, about four different assorted sponges, and one old rag that I was now currently using on the counter. Most of the time, I hated cleaning, but I need to distract myself. I can't let my mind wonder, I might day dream. I might think of the face that haunts me every day. The face that's on the cover of every magazine, that's on every entertainment show, the face that belongs to a boy that I can never have. The face of one of the three amazingly talented Jonas Brothers. Whenever my mind strays, Joe Jonas comes to mind. I know that it's just so stupid to think of a stranger like that. I know nothing about him. But at the same time, the music they write gives us an idea of who they are. And I've listened to their music so much.

I love that band so much that I can't help but dream. My daydreams are so potent that at some points I forget that I'm even dreaming; they can feel so real. Then the moment I wake up, and take myself out of that dream world and am sadly thrusted back into reality, a silly form of sadness comes over me. The sadness that comes from knowing that beautiful dreams, no matter how amazing they may be, are nothing more than just dreams.

The speck of dirt that was lodged in the corner of a crack on the counter just refused to be lifted, no matter how furiously I scrubbed. Tired of the stubborn dirt, I dropped my towel and went over to the refrigerator for a water bottle. Once I opened the fridge I was greeted by a large chocolate cake: rich and brown, baked by my mother yesterday, with its carefully placed icing still in perfect condition. Almost on cue, my stomach growled. It looked so good and I was very tempted to eat a slice. I rubbed my tummy in hopes of quieting the urge. I know I can't have that cake; I'm already a little chubby. I can't afford any extra calories. In my mind, I think that maybe if I was thin and beautiful than my chances with Joe Jonas would be higher. That somehow it would bring us just that much closer. But of course, I know that the only way to get close to them is to be like the creepy fans and stalk them, hunt down their home and just walk in. But I'll never be like that. I refuse to be a crazy loony fan that is more than willing to climb over a barbed wire fence to get to them, one that would just walk into their home, unannounced. Never, I'll never be like that.

My stomach grumbled again. I was hungry, so hungry. But I knew that if I ever wanted to be even close to Joe's league then I must become pretty. No, more than pretty, I need to be perfect. Perfect girls don't eat cake. I slammed the door quickly, trying to forget about the food. Hunger was something that I just needed to get used to. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of jiggling keys by the front door.

"Ally, I'm home," shouted my dad from the door, his loud voice echoing across the hallway into the kitchen.

"Hey dad?" I said suspiciously. My dad never announced his arrival from work. He seemed way too excited to be home. Something's up. "How was work?"

"Oh ya, work. It was fine," he said, as if he totally forgot where he was far the past six hours. As he placed his briefcase and coat on the kitchen table, a large excited smile lit across his face.

"Ok dad, what's up? You're way too happy."

"Why can't I be happy?" His smile grew an extra few inches, "what's so wrong with being happy?" I just stared at him in suspicion; he's acting way too weird. "Ok, fine," my dad finally confessed, " I was going to wait until dinner but clearly I'm terrible at hiding things. You know how you always said that you wanted to work in the film industry and what not?"

"Yah? Why?" I asked, still compelety unsure of what was going on. I did mention to my parents a few times about how I want to be a film maker when I'm older; but still, I had no idea what he was going at .

"Well, me being the amazing father that I am got you a job. But, not just any job. I got you a job on the Hannah Montana set!" His face lit up, and his smile grew so large I was afraid it was going to fly right off.

"Wait? The Hannah Montana show? As in the insanely popular show on Disney?"

"Yep!"

The moment I heard that confirmation, I couldn't help but smile just as wide as my dad. Wow, Hannah Montana, that show is so amazing! And, I love Disney. If I want to work for that company someday, than this is the best opportunity!

"Wow dad, wow!" I was totally speechless. All I could do was just give him a huge hug. This job could be my ticket to not only potentially meeting the Jonas Brothers, but also launching my movie making career. Of course, I'm only 17, but it's good to start somewhere. "Thank you so much dad! You don't even understand how much this means to me."

"I know honey," he whispered as he stroked my hair. He was still in my grateful embrace. My dad was always the compassionate one. He loved to make people happy, and was the only person I knew who could get insanely excited when he saw someone smile. I love my dad.

After another moment of hugging, I finally released him. My heart was racing from the news, and it took me a second to calm it. "So what's my job? Am I a director's assistant? Or no, even better, a producer's assistant? That would be so perfect!"

"Umm, not exactly honey," His smile quickly deflated. "It's something a little…smaller"

"Oh, of course. I'm probably like an intern right? Fetch coffee, alphabetize papers. I could totally do that…"

"Um, no," he interrupted, " not exactly."

"Well than what am I?"

"You're a….well," he turned his face away from mine, looked as his shoes, and finally muttered, "a janitor."

"A what?!" I shouted in disgust. I was so not expecting that.

"A janitor. Now I know it's not perfect but…"

"A janitor?" my mind was still trying to comprehend the word.

"Yes, honey, I'm sorry but it's the only job I could get," he said as he held my shoulders, trying to put on a reassuring smile. "My buddy Jim Keen from work is a custodian and his company also works on neighboring film sets, so I asked him if he could pull some strings. So, now you're the new employee of 'Keen Cleaning Company'" He said that last bit with a forced enthusiasm, smiling at me in hopes of that same expression being reflected off my face. It didn't work.

"Dad, I…" I muttered. I felt so bad for not being excited. I hated it when my dad was disappointed, but a janitor? I'm never going to get any respect from these actors if I'm the one mopping the floors. I sighed and decided just to practice my acting skills. "I'm still excited dad." I said, forcing my lips to curve into a smile, "See dad, I'm smiling." He didn't seem convinced, "Trust me dad, it will be awesome. This is really great."

He seemed more reassured now. He gave a final smile and kissed my forehead before he took up his things and headed up the stairs to change. As he left, I let my face muscles relax and returned to the natural frown.

"This really sucks," I thought as I returned to the half cleaned countertop. "No Ally, you have to be grateful," I said to myself, "Your dad gave you this great job on an amazing show, and yes, you'll be cleaning bathrooms, but… Oh it's no use." I sighed and banged my head on the wall in defeat. There was no use in sugarcoating it. I was working as a janitor, nothing more.

I decided that it was just best to forget about it, and continue cleaning. I grabbed the damp rag off of the counter and put more detergent on the surface. Might as well get used to cleaning and scrubbing now, since that's what I'll be doing for the next few months. Complete humiliation, on the other hand, might take a little longer to get used to.