"Ashley! Get your lazy ass outta bed!" My manager shouts as she runs passed my room with a basket full of dirty laundry. I can hear her talking to my maid, telling her that she needs the clothes washed ASAP. I stick my head out from underneath my So Cal Hanky comforter and glance over at the black alarm clock resting on top of my light brown nightstand. “Wake up!”

"Madison!" I groan as I throw the comforter off of me and sit up, rubbing my eyes. Madison comes running back in, free of the basket, with two Starbuck Mochas in hand. “It’s ‘Miss Davies’ to you, for one. And for two, it’s not even eight in the morning. I can’t be up this early.” She hands me one of the Mochas and I take a few swallows of it taking note of the fact that she’s out of her pajamas and she’s not even dressed up. She’s just in casual clothes. She’s wearing black Pinstripe Dickies jeans, a cami Hurley tank, white Vans slip-ons completed with a black and white star headband. I raise an eyebrow at her and she shrugs. I rarely see her out of her suit; she takes her job very seriously. Even when I went out and bought her clothes, including the shoes and top. “Why are you dressed so…not you?”

“Well, for one, I’ve called you ‘Ashley’ ever since high school and just because I’m working for you, now, that does not mean it’s going to change. I don’t give a shit if you’re paying me.” She smiles at me and I roll my eyes but smile at her. As much as she and I didn’t get along in high school, she’s my best friend now. One of the few people I can trust, who isn’t only after my money. She’s genuinely a friend. "And for two, Ashley, you have to meet with that writer, something Carlin or other. He’s doing that book about how you became famous and life before and after, remember? And I’m dressed so…’not me’ as you put it because he said to dress casual."

"Yeah, so? I’m not meeting him until like eleven, right? And how come you listen to a stranger but not to me?"