I went to bed once I got home, and then I talked with my dad about absolutely everything, and nothing at the same time. Because I was leaving the next day. After my TRL appearance, absolutely nothing was sane anymore. My video debuted at number three, and was bouncing back and forth between two, three, and four. So 'N So was standing in my way of the number one spot, dangit.

Anyways, like I said, I was leaving the next day. I went and did some TV shows, and other appearances across the country. And so, when I laid my head down on my pillow at my house on June 28th, I thought I'd never been happier.

When I woke up and went to the kitchen that morning, the first thing that entered my mind was a shower and food. I was totally oblivious to the fact that a cake sat on the kitchen counter, and there were about four colorfully wrapped package on the kitchen table. When I was in the shower, I had the creeping feeling that there was something going on. When I poured myself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice, I was trying to figure it out. And then I looked at the Far Side calendar on the wall, and I realized what truth that had eluded me until that moment.

Today was my eighteenth birthday.

I yelled, "I am SUCH an idiot," and smacked myself on the forehead. What kind of a moron forgets their own birthday? A very busy moron, obviously. I had been so over my own head lately, I forgot one of the most important dates I could ever hope to come upon.

I decided to go along with the day like nothing was happening. I don't know if my dad had planned anything, because I know I certainly hadn't had time to. And even if I had, I'm not much of a party planner.

I had to be at the studio to meet with Tim at eleven. It was now about ten-thirty, so I decided to get going. I didn't need the added stress of being late.

When I arrived at Jive, I found that all of my dancers, even Melissa and Jessica were there. They gave me hugs and told me happy birthday. After a little talking Jacob nicely pointed out that we had work to do.

MTV had invited me and my posse up to New York on the Fourth of July to perform in a huge outdoor concert that day. It was going to be, like, an eight hour concert. I was so psyched up and excited.

But as Jacob had so kindly put it, we had some more songs to choreograph so I wasn’t doing one song over and over at this shing ding.

When we took a break, the front desk had called me, and I got one of the best presents I could probably ever hope to get...and it wasn’t the pink rose with the Happy Birthday balloon sent from my dad. It was actually coming back from the front desk with my flower and balloon.

It was a gorgeous guy.

I was going into the elevator and slammed into a hard body. I saw stars for a moment, and then I realized that someone was asking me, "Are you alright?"

I shook my head to clear my muddled mind. "Uh...I guess so...I don’t think anything’s broken."

He grinned. He was taller than me, probably about six foot two. He had a great build, and very nice brown eyes, with sandy blonde hair that was cut short. "What’s the flower for?" he asked.

I snapped out of my trance. "Oh!" I said, and pointed to the balloon. "Birthday." What was the deal? Now that I had met a hot guy I could only speak in one and two syllable words, one at a time?

"Oh," he said. "I turned nineteen a couple days ago myself."

"Congratulations," I said. Oh, so now I was sounding totally intelligent all of the sudden?

"Thanks," he said. He then stuck his hand out towards me. "I’m Bryan."

"I’m Katherine," I said, shaking his hand.

"Oh right," he said. "I’ve heard your song. Great tune."

"Thanks," I said. "What are you doing here? I mean, do you work here?"

He grinned again, this time slyly. "I guess you could say that," he said. "I better be getting back...they’ll send someone out to hunt me down otherwise!" he quipped.

"Yeah, me too," I said, stepping into the elevator. "Bye."

"Bye," he smiled, and the elevator door cut us off. As the elevator took me up to the next floor, I couldn’t help but feel my knees shake a little.

Turns out, my dad did plan a little something. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet. But there was some people there. There was my dad of course, Justin, Morgan, Jessica, Rachel, Aunt Heather, Uncle Jeff, Melissa, and Tim and his rather pregnant wife, Alana, were there. She was about my height, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was a charming lady and Tim was just overly sweet to her.

Due to Rachel’s insistence, we had cake and ice cream first, then we decided to open presents before going swimming.

I’ve never really been a huge believer in giving presents for birthdays, because I’m not really a materialistic person, but I also figure if someone wants to give you something, whose going to stop them?

I opened the first package, from my dad. In it was a cell phone, the Nokia kind with the different colored press on covers (yeah, we still got those; they kind of came in style and never went out).

"I couldn’t get ahold of you in New York," he said. "Happy Birthday," and with that gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks dad," I said. I probably should have got one myself. I’m starting to come into that money--not enough for a car yet, but it’s getting there. I should have known that they would want to get ahold of me. Dur. I’m a blonde on the inside, I swear.

Morgan handed me a bag, and grinned evilly. Warily, I took a moment to listen for a ticking sound. When I heard none, I carefully looked into it. Moving aside some of the tissue paper, I saw-oh God. And just as slowly as I had opened the bag, I quickly closed it. "Morgan," I admonished her quietly.

She laughed. Justin smacked her softly on the shoulder. "What did you do?" he asked her.

My face was turning red, I was sure of it. Rachel and Jessica gave each other high fives. "What do you two know about this?" I asked them.

Rachel put on her innocent face, and Jessica laughed. "They helped me pick it out," Morgan said.

"What is it?" my dad asked, reaching for the bag.

I held it on the other side of my body, but still he reached for it. "You can’t see it!" I yelled.

"Why not?"

"You won’t want to see it in the bag, much less on me!" I said.

"No, no, let me see it," he said. I flinched and handed him the bag. It was a pair of black leather pants, and a halter top that was barely there made to look like the american flag. In it, Morgan had included a note that said You wear this in New York next week and you’ll be a smash! She of course failed to mention after I came off the stage how my dad would kill me for wearing this.

"Oh. My. God," he said.

"Dad?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

He took a swallow of his water. "Yeah...I’ll be...okay."

"Josh, constume decisions are still pending," Tim assured him. "Here’s your present," Tim said. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," I said. It was a mailing envelope, big enough to hold a regular sized notebook piece of paper. I opened it up by sliding my finger under the not totally sealed flap. I pulled out a couple of pieces of paper. At first I didn’t get it. "Contracts?" I asked. "Tim, what did I do now?"

"Nothing!" he said. "Look at the signatures. They’re actually copies."

Copies. And I saw the signatures. "AAAHHH!!!" I screamed. I ran around the table to where Melissa and Jessica were, and they couldn’t contain themselves either. They jumped up and we had a group hug while rejoicing. "You guys signed!"

"Like we would be able to resist!" Jessica said.

I felt so overwhelmed. I hugged them a little tighter to end, and then let them go. "Thanks Tim!" I said.

"You’re welcome," he said.

"OK, guys," I said. "Are we going to swim or what?"

"Yeaaah!!" Rachel yelled. She ran out the sliding door onto the back porch and down the steps, stripping off her clothes as she went. I reached around the corner and turned on the lights, because it was getting dark.

"Slow down Rachel! You’re going to trip and kiss the pavement," she said. Rachel ignored her and kept on running, and jumped into the pool. Morgan rolled her eyes. "Kids. They never listen. Hey Katherine," she added. I paid attention to her. "Justin and I are going to...um, go. Do you mind if Rach and Jess stay here and swim for awhile?"

"Nah," I said. "You two go ahead."

"Okay," she said, hugging me. "Many more, okay?"

"Alright. Bye."

Less than a week later, I was in New York with my family and friends, and getting ready to go onstage. Morgan was trying to convince me to wear the leather pants and the top, meanwhile I was trying to get out of it. "Morgan...it’s too hot to wear leather pants," I complained.

"Oh rubbish," she said. "It’s never too hot for leather pants. You’re just too scared," she said.

"No I’m not," I said. "I’m just...okay, maybe I am a little scared," I admitted.

"Told you."

"Well, not only that, my dad is here," I said. "And shaking and doing my thing in front of him is going to be nerve wracking enough, wearing leather pants would just make it worse."

Morgan looked at me. "Honey, that is no excuse and you know it."

I groaned. "What are you going to do? Hold me down and force me into the pants? Woudn’t that look a little suspicious?"

"If need be."

I practically screamed. "Morgan, if you can’t understand that, then I just...I...ack!"

"Is there a problem, miss?" I heard a voice behind me say.

I turned around and saw behind me, Bryan, from the studio a few days ago. "Oh, hello, Bryan," I said, suddenly shy and quiet. Morgan snickered and I shot her an evil look.

"Hello Katherine," he said. "I don’t believe we’ve met," he said, shaking Morgan’s hand.

"We haven’t," Morgan said. "I’m Morgan."

"What have you been up to...Bryan?" I asked him.

"Nothing. Just waiting to go on," he said.

"You’re performing?" I asked him.

"Yeah. I’m in a group. More Plz," he said. "Have you heard our song?"

I shook my head. "Afraid not. I don’t get the opportunity to hear much music except my own nowadays." I made a mental note to visit Sam Goody as soon as possible.

He smiled. "It’s okay. I know what you mean. You gonna be on soon?"

I sighed. "Yeah. Morgan and I are having some costuming disagreements."

"About what?"

"She wants me to wear leather pants."

He smiled at me. "I think you should wear them."

I started to fell weak in the knees, and I don’t think that it was due to dehydration. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"Bryan! Bryan Spears!!" A guy almost on the other side of the backstage area yelled. "You’re wanted for once."

"Hey, that’s why you looked so familiar," Morgan said. "Is your mom-"

"Britney?" Bryan finished for her. "Yeah," he said.

"Tell me Bryan," Morgan said, getting closer to him. "Your mom’s...well, y’know...are those real?"

"Morgan!" I hissed. "Bye Bryan. I’ll be sure to catch your performance," I said.

"I’ll be looking for you," he smiled, and walked away.

I turned to Morgan. "My GOD could you say anything more mortifying?" I asked her.

She raised her eyebrows, and then spoke. "I’ll be sure to catch your performance," she mimicked in a high falsetto. "Puh-LEEZE." she said.

"Oh shut up," I said. "Give me those pants."