Okay guys. So I realize I haven't written in a while. Lo siento, readeros. Read on! OH. ALSO. So, there's this story that I was reading, and it's called Perfectly Imperfect, and it is somewhat similar to my story. But they are different. Or they will be if they aren't already. Anyway. Now you can read on. :)

8:00 AM

"Tori! Look at my new shoes! (Google Prada leopard print open toed wedges)"

"I can't, Trina! I'm a little busy right now!" Well. Sort of. I was looking through my extensive closet for something appropriate for my coffee date with Beck today. Which is at 2. Yes, it's very sad.

Hey! Don't judge me! I don't get to meet guys like I used to. And there's no way I'm gonna date those stalker freaks who propose to me on a bi-weekly basis. Unless they're extremely attractive. Which they usually aren't. Anyway. Back to my point. I usually don't have time to meet people, or go to a bar on a Saturday. I had to postpone like, seven interviews just to get a few hours with Beck. Of course, Tiger Beat and J-14 aren't really on my "Must Be In" list. But still. Beck's important, right? I mean, we're catching up, not just going to the park. Well, knowing Beck, we very well might. Gah.

8:30 AM

I don't think I can do this. Beck was the hottest guy in high school, now I'm pretty sure he's the hottest guy in the world.

God, Tori, chill! He has a girlfriend, that Bev girl. You're just catching up, not going on a fancy dinner date. It doesn't matter at all. So quit freaking!

10:00 AM

Will it never be two?

I decided on an outfit (.com/pictures/VJ5nKBLwNID/Variety+3rd+Annual+Power+Youth+Event+Arrivals/me0eifwsWRL/Victoria+Justice ) that is 'young and hip.' You know, I haven't chosen an outfit in five years. I have a personal stylist who picks everything that I wear, from my bra to my headbands and earrings. I have a personal makeup artist who enhances my 'perfect' cheekbones whenever I have an interview or an appearance at some stupid awards show. I have a publicist who arranges all those interviews and stupid award show appearances. I have an agent who gets me meetings with top record producers- well, used to. I stick with Andre now.

Andre. I hate saying this, or even thinking about it. Andre's in love with me. I don't want him to be, he's my best friend, but there's nothing I can do. I expected him to date Cat, but Cat lives in Paris and New York now, while Andre's still in L.A. With me.

I mean, I love Andre. He's such a great guy, but we were meant to be friends, collaborators, colleagues. Not a couple. I don't think he understands that, though. And, before you ask, no, we haven't done the whole 'friends with benefits' thing. I considered it, but I don't want myself to fall in love with Andre. If we broke up, what would happen to our friendship? We'd hate each other, and I wouldn't be able to live without Andre as my best friend.

He's the only reason that I'm so successful now. Without him writing my songs, my song quality would go down the tubes.

Whatever. I should quit obsessing about this date. Or whatever it is.

1:45 PM

"TRINA, I'M GOING OUT. DON'T THROW A PARTY!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

She's so stupid.

I hopped in my Mini Cooper Convertible and drove to the coffee shop where we agreed to meet. It's this great little artisan shop downtown that showcases local artists work, and the staff don't go crazy every time I walk in. Plus they're super nice, and their coffee is absolutely divine.

"Oh, hey Tori! What can I do ya for?"

"Hey, Jesse! Nothing just yet. I'm waiting for a friend."

"Ooooh, got a hot date?"

"Not quite. I'm catching up with an old friend from high school. Back when I had a life."

"You have a life! You travel all around the world to perform for your adoring fans."

"Well, yeah, but this is my first date since I was eighteen, and it's not really even a date!" He chuckled at that one.

"Whatever you say, Tori dearest."

Jesse is the barista, and I met him after my third week of coming here, which was about three years ago. He's adorable. And no, he's not into me. The dude's gay.

"Ahem. I think your date's here." Oh, God.

"Hey Beck!"

"Hey Tori." He looked around. "This place is... nice."

"First time here?"

"Yup."

"Yeah, it's a bit of a shock. But the coffee is fantastic. I promise."

"I hope you're right." He said with his melt-worthy smile.

"She is." Jesse gave me a slight eyebrow waggle as he said that.

"I think you're a bit biased, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I was a customer before I was an employee."

"Cool, man. Uhhh, can I get a regular iced coffee?"

"Sure thing. Tori, an iced white mocha latte as usual?"

"Yeah, thanks."

We walked over to a table near the back of the shop, and sat down.

"He thought you were cute," Beck said.

"No he didn't."

"Yes he did."

"No, Jesse thought you were cute. Trust me on this."

"Oh. Okay. Gotcha. So how's life, Ms. I make friends with gay baristas?"

"It's actually really boring. I mean, making music is fun, but I don't get to get out much. It's pretty sad, really."

"Really? I would have thought you go to parties all the time."

"Well, I do, but they're not fun parties. They're basically a bunch of talentless famous people who like to talk about all their awards."

"And you don't like anyone? They're all shallow?"

"Most of them. But Matt Damon's nice. So is Bruno Mars. J. Lo is an attention seeking bitch. Carrie Underwood is a sweetheart. But Miley Cyrus is a whore, and Selena Gomez might be the most shallow person I've ever met. Not all of them, but a hefty majority are shallow and annoying."

"Huh."

"So how's your life been? What've you been up to?"

"Um. I just got paid. A lot. So I resigned from the garage. I bought Bev and I an apartment, and I bought her a new car."

"Wow, that was nice of you. So, is, uh, Bev okay with us hanging out?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't she be? It's none of her business. I mean, if I told her I was hanging out with you again, she'd flip."

"Oh. I don't want to get you in trouble with your girlfriend, though."

"My girlfriend? Ewwwww. No. No no no no no no no no. Bev is my little sister! She'd flip because she idolizes you!"

"Oh."

About three seconds after that, we both burst out laughing.

"Beck! Beck, you're crying!"

"You are too!"

"TORI KEEP IT DOWN. WE HAVE CUSTOMERS WHO DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU DIE OF LAUGHTER."

"SUCKS, JESSE!"

"I haven't laughed this hard in years."

"Me neither," I said wiping tears from my eyes. "I'm sorry, Beck, I have an interview in Westwood in fifteen minutes. I gotta go."

His face fell.

"Well, let me walk you to your car?"

"Absolutely."

We walked to my car in silence, with our arms linked.

"I- I had really good time," I said.

"Me too." He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. "Tori... I..." He stopped.

"Yeah?"

"I gotta tell you something."

"Go ahead." He's gonna tell me he can't see me again. He's gonna say that he'll see me at work. He's gonna-

His lips gently pressed against mine.

"When can I see you again?"

"As soon as possible," I said breathlessly. I pulled him back for another kiss before I sat in my car, and drove off to my interview, my heart beating a million miles a minute.