"I know," he said. "We're not recording tonight."

"Oh," I said. "Then what are we doing?" I asked.

"Calc final?" he said.

"WHAT?!"

"No, no, no," he said. "Is the Calc final what's making you edgy?"

"Oh," I said, relieved. "Yes."

"Tonight you're going to do a small photo shoot for promotional stuff...possibly the covers and inserts, which reminds me I need thank yous by...Thursday, if you're going to make any," he said. He was so in control a that moment it was scary. He stopped, opened a door and went through it. I assumed that I was to follow, so I did. It was a studio, but not a recording studio. It was more like a gymnasium, although not near as large. He was talking to a person who I guessed was a photographer (either that or she was carrying around a camera just for the hell of it). "Kat, go through that door," Tim said, pointing to a door in the corner across from me.

I went through it, and who should I find positively swimming in clothes but Morgan Timberlake. "Morgan!" I cried.

"Oh hello Katherine. So good to see you. I thought it was you I would be assissting tonight," she said.

"What're you doing here?" I asked.

"What exactly do you think I do all day while Justin is out and about doing his producing and Jessie and Rachel are in school?" she asked raising an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged. "I guess I never really thought about it."

"Well, I'm all around town at all the studios, stylist-slash-makeup artist-slash-anything else that you can think of," she said. "How do you think I snagged Justin?"

"Hm. Guess I never really thought about that either," I said truthfully.

"You don't think very much do you?" she asked curiously.

"Not if I can help it," I said. "So what exactly is it you're doing here tonight?" I asked.

"Tonight it's my job to make sure that you look good for your promotional pics. And if I do a good job, I might get to stick with you," she said.

Just then we heard a crash from another, smaller room and a yell. "Oh yeah. Kat, that's Mindy. She's going to be doing your make up and hair for tonight," Morgan said.

"Ouch," the voice said.

"You okay in there Min?"

Mindy came out of the room. She had stunningly beautiful dark eyes, and was fairly tall and very skinny. Yet she was covered head to toe in about 30 different shades of purple, green, and blue. "You know it's a bad day when the cosmetics turn on you," she said sadly.

Morgan sighed. "Min, get yourself cleaned up. Kat will be ready in about ten minutes," she said. I love how in control this woman can be. "You know," she said turning to me, "I think some of these clothes are older than you are," she said. I looked around and realized that she might be right.

We were kind of going for three different looks. Namely, athletic (to show that I was tought), preppy (to show that I was innocent), and sexy (to show my true side--haha!). What I find interesting was that the athletic get-up showed more of my stomach than the sexy ensemble. The athletic outift was pretty much black windpants and a red midrift top. The hair went up and makeup was understated.

I swear that Morgan was going insane, dressing me up and holding things up to me like I was her living, breathing Barbie doll. But whatever. I was having a lot of fun. It was like playing dress up, only about ten times better. And knowing that these pictures would soon be seen around the United States and even further was rather exciting.

I was in my preppy/innocent outfit (really tight jeans and a semi-tight sweater and my hair down) when I thought that I was glad my dad had chosen not to come that night.

I ask you this: I'm seventeen, and if my dad has a problem with guys hitting on me, what kind of reaction do you think he would have if he knew that the female photographer was checking me out.

He would probably have a heart attack.

Seriously, she was. I could tell. She watched what she was doing a little too closely, and when she was directing me to turn this way then that way, she stuttered and stammered and gave Daffy Duck a run for his money. I almost lost it when she gave the classic direction "Make love to the camera!" I think at that point Tim knew. I gave him my pathetic "Help me" look, but he only shrugged his shoulders.

But at any rate, the sexy outfit had to be my favorite of them all. Morgan and Mindy were awfully proud of their "little miracle" as they called me. The outfit consisted of black velvet pants that clung tightly to my skin, where the hell Morgan found those I will never know. And the tank top that I was wearing was the coolest piece of clothing I have ever seen. It was light, sky blue with patches of white in cloud patterns. And it was sparkly. When both were on my body, the pants were low enough and the top high enough to leave something to the imagination. My makeup and hair matched perfectly with frosted eye shadow, sparkles, and loose curls.

If my father had been there I'd be in one of those convents along the Mississippi river that makes chewy carmels in a second.

Thank yous aren't hard until you sit down to write them. I tried to do it Wednesday during study hall, but I used it for a naptime instead. So that's what led me to sitting at my kitchen table Wednesday after school.

But once I got started, it just kind of flowed.

Wow. To think that this all started with watching a group that I don't like win the most prestigious award for music (the grammy, people, the grammy).

I want to thank a lot of people to start. I want to thank my two best friends, Melissa and Jessica. You may be younger than me, but you are the two coolest girls I know and you got some moves.

Thank you Tim. You're the best manager in the biz, but don't ignore your wife! You two have a child on the way, and family comes before work.

Of course, BIG thanks to Jive for taking me on, the big risk that I was. Hopefully this will be worth it in the end.

Thank you to everyone who bought this album. May you enjoy the fruits of my labor and not use them for those hunting-clay-disc-thingys.

Thanks, family and friends. Morgan, you've always been like my mom...don't stop now. All my aunts and uncles--blood relation or no. You guys are the best anyone could ever hope to get stuck with.

While we're on the subject of family, let me say thanks to my dad. For everything. You've been here right from the start, even before Tim, even before Jessica, through this whole crazy process. It can't be easy, so thank you. You stuck it out in the recording booth as both a producer and a vocalist. Way to go. Thank you for putting up with me and taking care of me for seventeen years. I know that wasn't easy, but we've been through a lot together. Later dayz, daddy. I love you.

But lastly, Him, through all things are possible, and drew me from the dust and breathed life into me.

Let me tell you, it wasn't easy to write all that. I did about four drafts before I decided that I was finally done. My pen had run out of ink anyways.

I finished my album the next day. Tim said he was going to release my single on May 16th, which was the same week of my finals. The album was slated to be released the Tuesday after school let out. Isn't that neat? Yeah well anyways, the week of finals, people kept talking about my song. Except they didn't know it was me. I mean....well, this is a conversation I heard.

I was walking along to face my dreaded Calc final, when I heard two freshmen talking. "Have you heard that new song?" a blond with braces asked her friend.

"What new song?" she asked. "It's really poppy sounding...like my parents listen to. Can you believe that?" Miss Blondy said.

"Oh I think I have heard that one," her friend said a bit excitedly. "I like it."

"It's okay. Do you think you're going to buy the album?" she asked.

"Eh. Maybe."

I almost wondered if they had staged that for my benifit. Because it was hella cheesy and sounded like an infomercial. But whatever it was it gave me a huge ego boost. I'm surprised there was room for me in the classroom.

It was at that moment that I had to walk into the class and engage upon the most horrifying experience I have ever had. Better known as the calc final.

I passed my finals. I passed those suckers with flying colors. I can't believe it. And my single was the buzz around school. I would hear people jamming to it at stop corners. And half of them didn't even know it was me. I had lived in such anonimy (?) at my Orlando high school that it was ridiculous. But the people boppin' their heads to my ill tyte sound was only a small percentage. A person who was particularly in love with my song and yet was not aware that it was my song was my friend, Candace.

"Have you heard that song yet? It's a really great song," she said.

"I have no doubt," I said, keeping the smile off my face. But barely. Candace was raised like myself, in the ways of the music of the turn of the century.

"It's totally cool! You would not believe it. This chick has such. A. Voice. I mean, I don't think I know anyone who could sing like her," Candace said. This was scaring me a little here.

"No one?" I asked.

"I don't think so," she said, putting her bookbag in the back of her car. "I'll see you later Kat," she said.

"Bye," I said.

I was a little surprised that Candace didn't know it was me, us being friends for as long as we have been, but oh well. She would know soon enough.

Speaking of soon enough, I had graduated. I had stood up there with the other one hundred some in my class and accepted that diploma when they had called my name. I listened to the valedictorian make their speech. I listened to the band play. I listened to the principal talk about how we were the future, and then we did all the picture stuff with the parents and each other.

And then it was time to party.

There were the parties that our families gave, the ones that relatives came to.

And then there were the parties that we had out in the middle of pastures. It was on the way to one of those parties that MY song came over the radio again. I almost had to pull the car over to the side of the road because Candace was BATW (bopping at the wheel). The three others in the car decided that the song wasn't that bad, and I said it also, deciding right after a brush with death was not the best time to tell them that I was on the radio.

We finally got to the party that was held just outside of Orlando, and the first thing that happened when I got in the door was the music stopped. But it wasn't because I had walked in, it was because Jim Kaiden had just come in the door dragging a pretty red head behind him.

"Where you two going?" Jim's friend Brent asked, a cigarette hanging from his lip. (He honestly thinks that looks cool.)

"Betty and I are going to the bedroom," Jim said proudly, almost like a kid who did something all by himself. While his friends cheered and patted him on the back. I looked at Betty. She looked pretty doped up, but I was pretty sure that she didn't have any say in where she was going.

I followed Candace and the others (who shall be referred to as Sharin, Hayley, and Mary, mainly because those are their names) into the kitchen, where they grabbed something to drink. I never drink at these parties because I don't want to wake up with Jim beside me and all my clothes off.

The radio was playing in the kitchen. Surprisingly so, the radio was playing my song. Very loudly.

"I sing this!" I yelled to Candace.

"What?" she yelled back and she took a sip of Pepsi.

"This is my song. I'm on the radio," I said.

"You're on the radio?" she said. Duh. It was quite obvious that those Pepsis had been previously injected with something. Looks like I would be driving tonight.

"Yeah. I sing this. I got a CD coming out next Tuesday," I yelled at her.

She laughed at me.

She didn't believe me. Hmph.

So I went onto the back porch, that observed a decent sized yard and a pool. There were a lot of people swimming, and not all of them were wearing the appropriate attire. Bathing suits that night ranged from jeans and a t-shirt to nothing at all. I sat there for a good twenty minutes when a bunch of the skinny dippers declared they were thirsty. A minute later they were streaking past me, their man and woman hoods exposed for the world to check out.

"You know your life is going to pot when..." I started, not really intending to finish my sentence.

"When what?" a voice answered me.

Jim stood there. The most disgusting, vile person on the planet, was standing there next to me.

And I told him he could sit down. And he accepted, but not before zipping his baggy jeans and buckling his belt. All I could do is roll my eyes and look away. "I know I'm not exactly your most favorite person in the world, but I'm sorry," he said.

THAT made me spin my head. "For what?" I had not spoken to this guy unless absolutely necessary for ten years, what could he possibly have to apologize for?

"For what I said...you know that first day of Kindergarten?" he asked me.

Oh I definitely remembered. Our first 'assignment' was to draw and color a picture of our family doing an activity. I had drawn myself and my father, and he had called me stupid for forgetting my mother in the picture. I had informed him that I had no mother, she left. Then he furthered the arguement by saying it was probably my fault.

God he made me so mad.

"Yeah," I said slowly.

"Well, I'm sorry for what I said," he said.

"Wait a minute," I said. "That was eleven and a half years ago. Why are you apologizing for it just now?" I asked.

He ran a hand through his dark, slightly touseled hair. "Well, I never really said I was sorry, and...I don't want you to go through life being mad at me," he completed.

Mad at him? I was only mad at him for a few days eleven years ago. I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at her.

"I'm not mad at you, but your apology is accepted nonetheless," I said.

"You're not?" he said. "I just thought you were, because you like, never really talked to me. Even though we have the same friends, and stuff...we never talked. That's why I wanted to ask you to prom," he said.

"Really?" I said. Maybe, push aside his sex driven lifestyle, this guy wasn't so bad at all.

"Yeah. Friends?" he said, sticking out his hand.

I took it. "Friends."

That Tuesday, my album came out. It sold pretty okay it's first day; about five hundred copies. But something that was more of a haphazard come by, like people were just combing the Sam Goody, found my CD and bought it. But do you want to know the weirdest thing?

There were other pop acts coming up. There was a brother-sister act of Amanda and Alex Lachey. A boyband too. Called So 'n So. Not exactly the best name that I could think of, but if you can make money off of it, who am I to argue? So, my CD didn't sell as well as I would have liked it to. But God works in mysterious ways.

Almost all great rages get started in Europe. Paris, London, and Berlin are the fasion and music centers for the world. We are constantly waiting to see what comes next from there.

I sent a CD to my pal from London who I had met at an International Young Peoples convention in Georgia a few years back. I went because I did well in school and went to represent my middle school. Anywho, we kept in contact, and I sent her a CD, even though the album was being released in some places in Europe too. About a week later, I got a letter that read:

Dear Kat,

Hey. Longtime, eh? It's great that you have your own CD! And under Jive too! That's awesome work there chica! But check this out.

I played this CD while my friends were here, and they love it! They wanted to know where I got it, and they all want one now. Isn't that crazy? I think it's insane!!! I told them to look at some of the record shops, and now they all have a copy, and it's our fave!! It's getting major air play from the radio stations. Congrats Kat! You're on your way!

Love, Katia

This was it. I could feel it. This was what dreams are made of.