Ryan stared at the two guys in front of him as if they were crazy.

"So let me get this straight," he said slowly, trying to understand what Anthony and Ian were doing at his house on Sunday, their only day off. "You both want a break from the show so you can get a fresh start. Maybe even get up to number two on Youtube."

"Yeah," answered Anthony.

"And," Ryan continued, slightly massaging his temples, "you want to go to Melka?"

"Malta," corrected Ian.

"Whatever," Ryan rolled his eyeballs towards the ceiling, then to the spread of breakfast in front of him, and finally, they rested on the guys again. "But why do you want to go to an island you didn't know existed - heck, I didn't know it existed - on such short notice?"

Ian looked nervously at Anthony and the latter took the lead. "We just felt like the pressure on us has been a little too high, especially since 'Food Battle' was released. So why not go on a vacation? Not to mention, by doing this, we'll be going somewhere no one in the states has been."

"Yeah," agreed Ian. "It would surely be a great experience."

Ryan glanced warily, first at Anthony, then Ian, and back to Anthony. After ten seconds of silent torture, he said, "Alright, you can go."

The guys yelled in joy and were jumping around the room like two-year-olds when suddenly Ian stopped and looked at Ryan. "Wait a second, what's the catch?"

Ryan grinned. "Two conditions. The first condition is that you shoot daily vlogs."

Ian nodded wildly, his bowl-cut hair bouncing all over the place. Anthony, however, replied, "And what is your other condition?"

"You two are in charge of making all the arrangements. No help from your parents whatsoever. After all, you ARE adults."

"Deal," replied both guys simultaneously.

They said their farewells to Ryan and were just about to leave the room when he called out, "And, Ian, try not to land another camera into a pool or the sea."

"Ay ay, Captain," saluted Ian.

They rushed to Anthony's car and made their way back to Ian's house. They were silent for the better part of the ride, until Anthony asked Ian, "So what can we do about the arrangements for the trip?"

"This is just a wild guess," replied Ian sarcastically, "but why don't we ask the ones who posted that video for their help. They seem perfect since we already know that at least two of them are fans and they also happen to live on that island."

"Great idea," muttered back Anthony. "There's just one tiny little flaw in your plan. How are we supposed to contact them?"

"I don't know. Maybe there's such a thing called the Internet."

"Oh yeah? And what if they don't believe it's really us? What then?"

"We can just play it by the ear," replied Ian matter-of-factly. "It's what we usually do anyway."

Just then, Anthony pulled up by Ian's house.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the e-mail waiting to be read on my Gmail account. Yet there it was; a letter from Smosh themselves. I honestly thought that I'd fallen asleep and was dreaming and I hadn't noticed, but after pinching my arm, I knew with full certainty that Smosh, or someone joking around with their name, had contacted me.

I was afraid to open it as I thought that it might be them sueing me and my friends for creating a video about them without any copyright. I sighed in disbelief. When had I become such a paranoid fan-girl? So I clicked open the mail:

'Dear Live in Malta,

This is Ian Hecox from Smosh. Anthony and I have watched your segment on us and we honestly loved it. We liked it so much that we decided on viewing your other videos and found they were equally as great.

As you probably guessed, however, I'm not sending this e-mail simply to compliment your channel. Anthony and I have lately decided on going on a vacation and after seeing your videos, we have chosen to come to Malta. Now you may be asking yourself what we want from you. It's simple really. We need to know where we could stay and where to go in the three weeks we're planning to come.

We would really appreciate your help. Please reply soon.

Ian Hecox'

My first reaction was joy that they had decided not to sue us. Then came the surprise that such skilled Youtubers had enjoyed our videos. However, after that, I got suspicious about the authenticity of the e-mail's sender. Despite my inner voice's protests, I sent them back a reply.

Just as I hit send, I realised just how tired I felt and I fell asleep.

It had barely rung four o'clock in the afternoon when Ian found a reply to the e-mail he had sent just five minutes before.

"Hey, Anthony," he called, "they replied."

Anthony immediately raced from his guest room and made his way to the kitchen. He gruffly demanded, "What are you waiting for? Open the reply."

Ian obliged and read the e-mail aloud:

'Dear Ian,

I am glad that you have found our channel so amusing. However, I'm afraid that I cannot help you with the organisation of your trip. Don't get me wrong, I would love to help, but I'm sure that you can understand my situation: I am being sent a message from people I don't know and through no fault of yours or mine, I believe that there is no way I can verify your identity. I apologise but that's all I can say.

Yours,

Nathalie.'

They were silent. Anthony stood up from where he had been standing and glared at Ian. "I told you they won't believe it's us."

"Well I'm not ready to give up yet," said Ian obstinately. "What was her name...Nathalie. Hmm..."

Ian clicked his mouse a great number of times and typed a lot too, so Anthony couldn't help but sit down again and ask, "What are you doing?"

Without looking up from the screen, Ian replied, "I'm simply checking which girl this Nathalie is. Maybe we can find a way to convince her that we're really us. And...I got it." He turned his laptop to face Anthony and pointed at the curly haired short girl in the video who seemed no older than sixteen.

"That's weird," said Anthony in a very soft voice. "How come she has access to the channel's account and e-mail? The others are obviously older than her."

"One of two reasons, I guess," answered Ian whilst scratching the back of his head. "Either the other two are too stupid to handle responsibility or she is the editor and creator of the channel as well as the most cynical of the three."

"I'd place a bet on your second deduction based on what I've seen on some of their videos," agreed a grim-faced Anthony. "So now, all we have to do is try to prove our identities."

"You make that sound so easy," whined Ian, "but had that been the case, the e-mail would have been enough."

"But you see," slowly unravelled Anthony, a sly grin on his face, "the videos they posted show that she has only recently become a fan of ours, which means that whereas that e-mail would have worked on most fans, it had little chance of persuading her. So, using our heads, what's the one thing that can be shared by the internet and is certain to convince a cynical teenage girl?"

Just then, it was like a bulb had lit inside Ian's brain, "We post a video?"

"We post a video," confirmed Anthony.

Emails and Emergency Meetings

beep! Beep! BEEP!

My hand slammed down on my alarm clock. I wondered for the thousandth time why my mother insisted on me waking up at 7 o'clock each and every morning, even now that it's summer and after aceing my O levels. I groaned as I got out of bed thinking that someday, if I'm lucky enough, I'll manage to hit the alarm clock so hard that it shatters to pieces. A girl can dream...but some dreams can never come true.

Suddenly, my thoughts raced back to the previous night's mysterious e-mail from Smosh. I still couldn't decide if that had been a hoax or not; after all, my friends have been known to play practical jokes like that on me. This could have been another one of their ploys to make a fool of me. Anyway, after the e-mail I sent them back, I'm sure that had it been really Smosh, they wouldn't have dreamed of asking me a second time. I sighed. I guess I have a habit of pushing people away before I can even get the chance of knowing them properly, but there is nothing that can be done now.

A thought struck my brain at the speed of lightning and I was suddenly thrown back by the urge to check if the people who sent me the e-mail the previous night had sent me another one. So I grabbed my tablet and took it over to my desk and switched it on. Wonder of wonders, there was no e-mail waiting in my inbox. Feeling somehow disappointed, I logged into my Youtube account and saw that Smosh had posted their behind-the-scenes video of their latest 'If -blank- were real'. However, as soon as I clicked on the link, I did not find what I'd expected.

Upon starting, the video was very much the same as usual. As the traditional ending came, though, the video did not end but kept on rolling with an added segment. Intrigued, I saw that Ian and Anthony were at Ian's place and I was pretty much amazed at what they said.

"Hey guys," started Anthony. "This week we decided on adding a little extra footage to the usual behind-the-scenes video."

"Apart from you being a great audience, the real reason why we are shooting this is actually split into two," explained Ian. "First of all, we are planning on going on vacation in a week's time to the wonderful island of Malta. But don't worry about missing any of our videos because we'll be taking daily vlogs so we'll be able to show you how awesome a Mediterranean island can be."

"However," continued Anthony, "that brings us to the second reason for this video. To go on this holiday, we need some help from two Youtubers from Malta; one in particular."

At that point my jaw could have easily detached itself from my skull and I wouldn't have noticed in my amazement.

Ian continued, targeting his speech to me, "Yes, it was really me when I sent you the e-mail and if you could, both Anthony and I would very much like your help. Will you give it to us?"

At that point, both guys looked straight through the lens of the camera, as if looking straight at me, and they both directed their best cute puppy faces, the blue of Ian's eyes and the brown of Anthony's piercing through the screen...

I shut the tablet and dumped it on my bed. Quickly, I got dressed in a green t-shirt and a pair of shorts, I brushed my hair and grabbed my messenger bag which was full of notes for our channel, a small wad of cash and my mobile. My mum heard me packing but I had no time to explain. So I said I had to rush out as I was meeting Marcia and Vanessa and I left without another word.

Running to the bus stop up the street, I quickly dialled Marcia's number and she picked up with a groan just as I found a seat on the nearly empty bus which had stopped at the most appropriate time.

"Marcia," I said, ignoring her sleepiness, "I need to speak to you as soon as possible. Meet me in Valletta at our café in fifteen minutes. It's urgent."

As soon as I'd arrived at Valletta, I'd gone quietly over to my favourite café and I ordered some breakfast. Just I wolfed down the last bite from my ice cream pancakes, Marcia showed up in the seat in front of me.

"OK," she said without any greetings whatsoever, "what's up?"

I wasted no time in telling her all that had happened from the first e-mail to the video. Marcia listened to me rambling and going through all the details until I had finally stopped talking. She then asked, "So what's the big problem? Why don't you just help them out?"

I stared at her as if she just said the dumbest thing in the world. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No, actually," she replied calmly. "Explain to me what the big deal is."

I took a deep breath in to calm myself down, but somehow I couldn't quite manage it. "You want me to agree to help two guys I barely know and who are both at LEAST twelve years older than me so that they can come to Malta."

"I still don't see what the urgency is."

"What if they are molesters or something!" I exclaimed.

"Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen from a visit to Malta? They're just coming for a vacation here and need some help."

"But that's another thing," I protested, knowing I was losing the fight I hadn't realised I had started. "Why would they ask ME to help them rather than a tour guide, or even the internet?"

"Because," declared Marcia with a small smile, "even though you're not an adult yet, you have the maturity of one, and so you're up for responsibilities, but also, being a teen grants you the ability of showing them new places which interest the younger generation. Unlike when you're on one of those tours meant for old people or very dumb ones."

"You're right, I guess," I admitted, finally calm.

"Aren't I always?" She winked at me. "Now what do you say to spending a morning window-shopping now that we're here?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "Just give me a second, OK?"

She nodded and went to pay for my breakfast. I instantly drew out my mobile from my bag and sent a quick e-mail.

It was midnight, and Anthony and Ian were still awake, wondering if the video they'd posted was enough. Suddenly, there was a loud ping. Ian nearly jumped out of his skin, as he had nearly fallen asleep from exhaustion. Anthony pulled the laptop towards him and read the only e-mail in the inbox:

'Dear Smosh,

Alright, I'll help you. What do you need?

Yours,

Nathalie'

It was a very simple message but it was enough. They were one step closer to going on a vacation away from their stressful lives, and they could make a new friend while doing that; if she gave them the chance...