Sweet, delightful LA, with the most beautiful weather, the most fabulous stars, the greatest celebrity spots ever, and I was here, today, walking down the street with Saki and Tom. It was moments like these that made me feel truly like the childish happy Bill my fans knew.

I inhaled the clean air of early morning and the smell of the ocean was magical. I stopped in the middle of the street and blankly stared just admiring the scene my eyes beheld. Tom wasn't so fascinated, but if you think about it, there were five things only that interested Tom: me, sex, music, friends, and sex again. I wouldn't expect him to be awestruck by the soul of a city as much as how revealing its girls dressed.

Our walk was over as Saki said he saw Paparazzi lurking at a hotel nearby. I sulkily walked back to the hotel and rested myself on the king size bed, but as boredom consumed me I went to Tom's.

"Oh my god, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh master Tom is just getting out of the shower so we can have another round, wanna join us?"

The way she said master was disgusting beyond measures. Her sticky lips and overdone make up was smothered all over her face making her look like the love child of Krusty the clown and the joker. Her attitude was even more repulsive. She might be submissive, but she is cheap. For once I was content that I got Tania.

Tom soon was out, apparently towels are no longer important seeing that he walked completely naked, with a boner and a mischievous smile.

"Ready for round two…whoa! Shit!"

And he ran back in. That was probably one of the most awkward situations we've ever had. I was deeply disturbed.

"EW."

That was all I managed to utter. I walked out and back in my room. I called room service and asked for some Pizza. Then I called Scott.

"Are you keeping her under control?"

"Yes sir, she is behaving herself. But I meant to ask you, is it OK if she spends most of her time reading? She is engulfing herself in books, and I don't know if you would permit such…obsession."

I smirked and propped myself on the soft bed stretching my back.

"Sure, but make sure that she only read cheesy romance novels."

"Yes Sir. Anything else you want to know?"

"Put dad on the phone?"

"I beg your pardon, he is busy today preparing for the debate and also he's new to the supreme illuminati and they're celebrating their new member."

"Ah! Never mind me. I'll just call him later. Make sure you do what I told you about Tania."

"Yes Sir. I will Sir."

I hung up and closed my eyes yawning. I was desperate for some sort of entertainment. I have to admit sometimes I felt jealous of Tom's cheap taste. It helped him get along with everyone, and he always had company, although stupid and shallow, they were still company. I was always more picky; perhaps a bit egoistic too. I've always thought Tom was the only friend I needed. That's why when he's too busy screwing other girls, which is 90% of the time since he hit puberty, I feel jealous and lonely. I hated those girls for thinking they can take my Tom and make him a….tool! Of course it was mutual. Tom needed to get off as much as they did. I just never thought any girl was good enough for Tom. Tom was me, and I was superior to humans and needn't their company nor their sexual favors. Narcissism is what I've been accused of constantly, but I believe I have fair reasons. Do humans interbreed with their pets? That's the simplest example I can provide.

Later on that night, we were off to some high-class, private club. Unsurprisingly it still had the typical characteristics of any other club: half naked drunk girls, a distinctive smell of booze, sweat and smoke, and great music. We sat in a far away booth and ordered some drinks. Tom decided to keep me company this time and he sat there and we chatted about back when we were kids pretending to know how to sleep and other nonsense that only Tom seemed to remember. It was then that I saw her, I believe a perfect term to describe my feelings would be "alert" the moment I saw her I know she'll end up in Tom's bed. He always gets them, one way or the other. Whether he's their type or not doesn't matter, Tom had even slept with girls with whom he had no mutual language. They were not communicating, but driven by animalistic instincts.

This one was special, just like all the rest of them. She had abnormally long hair and the flaming shade of its redness was glorious. Green wide eyes half covered by her fringe, and a small, cute, freckled nose. With Tom's never-ending hormone flood he will definitely notice her, and end up fucking her.

It was only five minutes before he saw her, and looked at her for a fraction of a second before he tore his attention back to me.

"Oh! Your beer is empty! Let me get you a second."

My beer was not empty, but he was gone before I got the chance to protest. I don't need to say much about the unoriginal scenario. It is always the same. Tom sees hot girl. Tom lures hot girl. Tom fucks hot girl. And Tom forgets all about hot girls except a vague mention of an increasing numbers of his groupies as his source of pride in interviews.

Two hours later I was tucked in bed, but I was certain that the loud moans from the room next door could be heard all the way from across the street. I closed my eyes, took one deep breathe, and wished I could be deaf or asleep. Perfection is not always a privilege. I ended up blasting loud music from my IPod and it managed to cover up the distinct tone of Tom's low pitched voice grunting and moaning.

Next morning;

My phone rang at 6:30 am. It was Gustav, he was insanely nervous.

"Turn on the TV."

I did so too bored to question him. And I was bewildered….no, I was…for the first time ever, terrified.