By the time I pulled into Matthew Hamming's mansion, it was already dark. I was hoping the car ride would soothe him enough that he'd pass out, but he only became carsick and threw up as soon as he stepped out unto his driveway. And then, get this, he immediately tried to coerce me into woo-hooing in the shower with him. I stomped his foot and told him to go brush his teeth, shower, and freshen up; that I needed to use his other bathroom to gussy myself up. This satisfied him, and he stumbled inside with me following behind him. Once he veered off to one bathroom, I called for the butler. She immediately woke up and , still in her sleepwear, came to meet me. Surprisingly, she was not too annoyed.

"Camilla Fortescue at your service," she moaned, rubbing her eyes. She jumped when she heard Hamming's off-tune crooning in the shower. "I see you've brought Matthew home. The hot tub's in the back, there's a shower in each bathroom, each bedroom has a double bed, there's a nearby park with a treehouse, the nearest bar has a photobooth, and the last girl left a time machine that you guys can try. Matthew asks me to tell all his visitors that there's a shaving kit in the downstairs bathroom, and he strongly suggests that—"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" I cut in. "I just brought him home! I mean, do you see how drunk he is? I was afraid he'd kill himself trying to drive and –"

Camilla put a hand on my shoulder and shook her head knowingly. "There's no shame in hooking up with the biggest star in town, sweetheart. Just don't get pregnant or have any diseases and there won't be a problem. And don't worry, Matthew's a pro at pulling out if you're not on the pill, but he refused to wear a condom and 'stymie his manhood girth.'"

I shook my head. This was apparently a normal routine for him, and she wasn't going to believe otherwise. I pulled out the keys and placed them in her hand. "Can you keep these? I kind of don't want him to kill himself and I'm the last person he was seen with."

Camilla nodded and blinked her sleepy eyes. "I can whip up a nice Romantic Drink if you want."

"That would be marrrrvelous, Camilla. Merci," boomed Hamming from behind me. I turned around and was greeted by his bare body in all its hairy glory. It was clear that Matthew had doused himself with a little extra cologne, as well a little oil on his impeccable abs. I believe he'd taken a pill, too.

"Alright. I'll be right back," said Camilla dryly, as if seeing the nude body of an Adonis was an everyday thing for her. In fact, it probably was.

"Wow, Matthew! I didn't know you'd be so, umm, prepared!" Try as I might, I couldn't help but talk straight to his erection. What was with these Bridgeport guys and being stark-naked?

He grinned mischievously, holding his arms out to showcase his package. "You like? Maybe you could join the party." He waggled his eyebrow.

"Umm, nooo, maybe, umm," I stuttered. It's really hard to focus when you're being bombarded by million-dollar nudity. "Maybe you could go relax in the bed? I'll be right there in a moment, just gonna, umm, prepare myself to join the party. You know, shaving kit and all." I smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, go ahead, it's no shame. I too, decided to give a little trim. Can you tell?"

I almost looked back down, but then I caught myself. "Yes, yes, very nice, now go get in the bed, okay? I'll be right up. Don't come down looking for me. I'll come to you." He nodded, proud to have impressed me, then sashayed away. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and took a seat on the cushy couch. My plan was that he'd get in bed and eventually doze off, forgetting what even happened. Either way, once I left, it was Camilla's problem. Maybe she could get some action, if she hadn't already. But that was now beside the point. I had a new challenge: to get out before the pap found me. Camilla, I knew, would be an expert at sneaking his various one-night stands out. I went to find her by the bar.

"Well, usually, the girls want to be seen," said Camilla, still mixing the drink. I told her that she didn't have to, that I was leaving, but she'd insisted on making one for herself just because. "They like having the paparazzi find them with the biggest male star in town. They want the star points."

I shook my head. "Well, I don't. I just want to get out of here and meet my real flame for a date." As I said that, I realized that the movie was probably out of the question now. I also remember Shug's offer from earlier. Maybe Griffin would be interested in that. "Can't you help me sneak out?"

Camilla nodded. "There's always the oddball that's ashamed; no offence to you. I completely understand. Just tell them that it was me that actually drove him home, that you were just the stand-in butler that was taking care of the home. It's a weak excuse, and there's probably pictures that will beg to differ, but there's enough people in high places willing to vouch for him, not to mention the complete and utter frenzy that Matthew will go into when he's sober enough to be ashamed. They won't push the story. Go ahead and leave." I thanked Camilla, gave her a hug, then took her advice and quietly evacuated the premises. Surprising, there wasn't a single reporter or photographer out there. They probably expected me to leave tomorrow morning, rather than make my mad dash within an hour of arriving. I didn't dwell on this too long, though, because I was eager to get home and wash off the filth I'd acquired in the last few hours. Once I'd made it home and done all that, it was time to call Griffin. I dialed his number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" said a rather impatient man. "Zayn?"

I couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice. "Hey Griffs, I was wondering… Did you want to go out, umm, I mean, on a date?" He grunted. I'm assuming that was an inquiry to where we'd be going. "I met Sugar Bijou today, and she said we could go to the Tom Wordy concert with her. It'll be fuuunnnnn." I let my voice hang at the end, trying to sound relaxed, instead of insanely nervous, which was how I felt.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. Finally, with a sigh, he spoke. "Alright. I shall attend."

His apparent indifference toward my invitation bothered me. "You don't sound too happy. Do you not want to go?"

At this, his voice pepped up. He must have sensed my disappointment. "No, of course I want to go! Don't fret. I'll meet you at the theater in a few minutes, okay?"

Now I smiled. Maybe it was all in my head. "Okay! Can't wait." He gave a deep, rolling laugh, said he'd see me soon, then hung up. I squealed.