After finishing taking pictures of a newborn, I sit down at the computer and plug in the memory card to start editing photos. At least that was my last booked photoshoot of the day.

I've been working part time as a photographer at Pelgram's, a department store in the mall, for almost two years. It's not the most exhilarating job, but I am able to work on my camera skills. It's never super busy either, so I can even work on some homework if I have down time in between shoots and editing.

Once I spend time adjusting the lighting and adding the photographs onto the Just Born! cards, I send the final product along to the client.

Finally, I'm able to sit back and relax a bit. We do allow walk-ins, but people rarely show up. Not too many people are wanting to get their pictures taken in a clothing store. Just in case they do, I'm not able to put away my equipment until the end of my shift, so I have about an hour to kill.

I take another two Advils to help combat the headache that is still lingering from this morning's hangover. I'm not usually one to get absolutely trashed each weekend, but I knew going into last night that this horrible feeling the next day was going to be inevitable. At least it didn't catch me by too much of a surprise when I woke up with my head pounding.

And I didn't throw up. Always need to look at the positives in life.

For the first time since lunch, I pull my phone out of my bag and see a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey, are you free tonight?

Unknown number texts and spam calls are really getting out of hand. No, you can't steal my information. I'm really getting sick of these. I'm surprised this one didn't start by saying he was my long lost cousin in desperate need of me to send him money while he's stranded in the Sahara Desert.

As I go to delete the text and block the number, a small feeling of intuition (or more like hope) makes me stop and think about the possibility that this could be Bawdy.

My heart rate increases at the thought of the possibility. Could he really have taken the time to text me? Am I dreaming?

I decide to hang onto my small ounce of hope and respond. Maybe it's someone whose number I never saved. They must not have been that important then.

Gianna: Hey, sorry, who is this?

Unknown: How many guys did you give your number to last night. Thought I was special.

I haven't given my number out to anyone in months besides to Bawdy last night. My worries start to creep in, and I imagine him just taking off the bracelets and throwing them away like the useless plastic they are. Someone else could have found them and is messing around.

Gianna: That didn't answer my question.

Unknown: Bawdy, babe.

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks. This is just too good to be true. I'd feel even more special being called babe, but that seems to just be how he addresses all girls. Probably another reason why everyone is obsessed with him.

As someone who can worry myself sick, I can't just jump up and down and accept that this is really him. I wish that I had more trust in people, but I've been deceived one to many times in life.

Gianna: Prove it.

Bawdy(?): I didn't take you as the commanding type. Will this do?

Attached with the message is a picture of him holding up his wrist with my bracelet on. Just my bracelet on. The other ones are no where to be seen. His hair looks messy, and it looks like he's still lying in bed. It is almost 5:00pm, but I doubt he even made it home before the sun went up.

Every ounce of me wishes that I was lying there with him. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Just because he texted me doesn't mean this will ever turn into what I want.

I wonder if he just does this with girls he meets all the time to give his fans hope that this could happen to them. Although I don't think I've heard much gossip about him getting specifically with a fan, I have seen him pictured time and time again with different girls in tabloids.

Gianna: You remember me?

For all I know, he could have just picked one phone number to have fun with.

Bawdy: Toilet paper and tits. How could I forget.

Well, fuck, that's not the first impression I wanted to make. I mean at least he must have thought I looked good to have the latter part of the memory.

Gianna: Wishing the first part didn't happen, but seriously I loved your show and getting to meet you so much.

Bawdy: And I'm very happy I got to meet you. Now, are you free tonight?

Gianna: I am.

Bawdy: Well, I'll see you tonight at party a friend of mine is hosting. Here's an invite to show.

A bit bold of him to tell me that he'll see me there before I agree to coming, but I kind of like the idea of him making decisions for me. I wonder how dominate and demanding he would be in bed.

But, first, the party. My imagination really likes to get ahead of reality.

Gianna: See you later :)

Is a simely face good to add? Do rockstars text like that? I really hope he doesn't think I'm lame already.

*****

Pulling up to the address a bit before 11:00pm, I take a deep breath.

"I still can't believe you pulled this off," Kennedy says as we step out of the Uber.

Luckily, the invite said it was good for one admission and a plus one. I'd cling to the wall, filled with nervous energy if I had to enter this alone.

We make our way up (escorted) to the penthouse and walk into a sea of people. Immediately, I recognize music stars and models and some of the most gorgeous people I've ever been in a room with.

I look down at my short satin black dress paired with my knee high boots from the night before. While my dress is probably worth a fraction of everyone else's, I know it does fit me well, showing off my small waist and exposing a bit of cleavage with its sweetheart neckline.

"There're so many people. I don't even know how I'll find him," I shout into Kennedy's ear.

"11:00 is probably too early for someone like him anyways. Let's grab a drink and take a lap."

Sipping on our cocktails after making small talk with a guitar player, my eyes finally catch a glimpse of Bawdy. He's wearing a short sleeve black shirt with graffiti printed all over it. Even from a bit across the room, I can still make out the outlines of his muscles fighting to break free from underneath his shirt.

He doesn't notice that I'm eating him with my eyes, because he appears too busy with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with long blonde hair who desperately needs to get her roots touched up. On the other side of him, a girl standing at least six feet tall in her heels is leaning close to talk with him as well.

"Watch out that you don't start drooling," Kennedy says with a laugh as I try to break my attention away from him.

"Well, looks like I have some competition." Some tough competition. Those girls tower over me, and their makeup looks flawless.

It's not like rockstars are inviting me out every (or any) weekend, so I really can't ruin my only potential opportunity.

"Should I go over there?"

"Try not to throw yourself at him when you do."

I down the rest of my drink and start to walk with Kennedy close behind. I'll try just passing by and see if he says anything.

Walking by, I catch his gaze. I slow my steps, but I don't want to intrude on a conversation. Even though he invited me, it doesn't mean that he didn't invite all these other girls or this could be an important conversation.

Without stopping, I lightly smile as I walk by. His eyes follow me for another second, but then he returns his gaze to the girl he has his arm around. She giggles loudly and puts her hand up to touch his around her shoulder. Okay, so maybe not some important business conversation.

Once I've moved enough past him, I turn to Kennedy, feeling a bit frustrated. "Dude, what am I even doing here. Why did I think he'd be waiting with open arms for me."

"If you want to make it happen, then you're going to have to get his attention away from them."

As I try to think of a plan, we grab a shot off a serving tray. I thought these parties usually have servers with champagne, but it looks like this party called for shots. Kennedy and I cheers, and I gulp back the mixed shot. Honestly, it just tastes like apple juice. Maybe there's not too much alcohol even in here.

Never being one to turn down free alcohol, I end up taking another two shots with Kennedy. And then another two by myself. Maybe a miscalculation about the no alcohol thing, because after about 20 minutes, I'm certainly feeling it more.

To my defense, I was thirsty, and it was the most accessible thing to drink. And it tasted like apple juice.

In that time, Bawdy was still surrounded by girls and was starting to look particularly close to the girl he has his arm around.

At this point, I'm feeling a bit let down. Although my own fantasies are the reason that I'm feeling upset.

Kennedy must be able to see that I'm staring at him like a lost puppy, and she offers, "Iris said she's at a club just down the street with some of the guys if we want to join."

There's no point in me staring hopelessly all night and risking seeing Bawdy make out with some random bitch. Sure, he owes me nothing, but I still find myself being internally disappointed.

"Yeah, why not. We might as well not waste the night, and at least we can say we got invited to a celebrity party."

"And that we were bored and decided to leave."

As we start making our way over to the door, I notice Bawdy and the blonde bitch walking closer to us. She's all over him. Wrapping her arms around one of his, holding on for dear life and continuing to giggle obsessively.

Without much thought, I turn and quickly kiss Kennedy. Nothing crazy. Just a friendly little kiss. It's usually our way to get out of talking to guys by pretending we're dating, but it is only a maneuver we use when we're either desperate or drunk. And I'm falling into both of those categories at the moment.

Kennedy rolls her eyes and grabs my arm to lead me towards the door. I make eye contact with Bawdy as it appears he stopped right in his tracks. The lighting isn't the best, and my eye sight is probably playing tricks on me, but I'm pretty sure I see him raise an eyebrow at me.

Not really remembering the walk down the street, we enter a club called Fishscale. Iris flags us down quickly, and we join her on the outskirts of the dance floor.

Iris is one of Kennedy's childhood friends, and we've became good friends too. She's also majoring in photography, and we've taken some classes together.

She goes to give me a hug, and I almost tumble on top of her.

"Woah, what have you guys been up to tonight?"

"Chasing dreams," I reply as I regain my balance.

She looks slightly confused but knows not to question drunk me too much. I barely know what I'm saying half the time. "I'm glad you two could come. You remember my brother, Kevin, and that's his friend Thomas and his girlfriend Tracy."

I smile and wave knowing how low the chances are that I remember these two new names.

Iris grabs mine and Kennedy's hands and leads us out onto the dance floor. We're having a good time. The music is good. The lights are cool, but I still wish one certain rockstar was with me.

As one of my favorite remixes comes on, I pull out my phone to take a video and notice a new text.

Bawdy: Where'd you run off to?

I immediately forget about my plans to record the song. Why is he texting me when he has blondie to keep him company?

As fun as it would be to get with him, I also know that I am the jealous type and seeing him constantly surrounded by girls begging for his attention wouldn't sit well with me. At concerts or work events I guess I could understand, but seeing him out at a party with other girls all over him really left a sour taste in my mouth. I need to keep reminding myself why we'll never actually get together.

Gianna: Having some fun.

I reply and attach a shaky video of the DJ playing and flip the camera to me dancing. Apparently recording and moving my body at the same time is too difficult, and I slightly trip backwards onto Kevin who puts his hand on my back to stabilize me. I end the video as he is leaning towards me and he asks, "You good there, Gianna?"

"Yep, thanks," I laugh as I send the video without much thought. If this is the end of something that never began, at least he can have a memory of what he's missing out on.

I put my phone back into my purse and try to focus on the music, clearing my mind.

My eyes find themselves closing slightly as I sway back and forth to the song that started playing. I'm not paying too much attention to what's going on around me, but all of a sudden I feel a large hand on my shoulder.

I turn and my eyes widen as I realize who's here. Bawdy. With his hand on my shoulder.

"Huh?" Is the best way I can even begin to ask why and what he is doing here.

People around us start staring and taking pictures, obviously recognizing Bawdy.

"Who's the guy you ran off to?" He asks in a low growl.

The guy I ran off to? I try to piece together what's going on and then realize that Kevin was definitely in the video that I sent him. But that still doesn't fully explain why he's here or why he'd care.

"That was jus-" I get cut off as he spots Kevin standing basically behind me and turns to approach him.

"No way, Bawdy, I'm a huge fan!" Kevin says excitedly.

Bawdy doesn't reply with any amount of excitement. "She's clearly been drinking. Keep your hands off of her." He pushes his hand against Kevin's chest, sending him stumbling backwards.

Kevin looks as confused as I feel. "That's just my friend's brother. I'm so confused how you even knew where to find me. Were you looking for me?" I try to say although it's hard to get close to his ear with how much taller he is than me.

"Gianna, of course I was looking for you. I saw how quickly you had those drinks at the party and then you just ran, or more so stumbled, out of there."

He was worried about me. I swallow and reply without hyperventilating at this interaction. "It was hard to think you'd want to talk with me when you had girls, especially that one, all over you all night."

There's no way I'm having this conversation with him. I look around nervously and realize that we're creating a bit of a crowd as people want to catch a look at Bawdy.

"I couldn't just throw a drink on her and kick her out the second that I saw you." He laughs. "Honestly we reacted almost the same way seeing each other with someone, and we haven't even had a proper conversation. But the girl was way more interested in knowing who you were after she saw you kiss your friend. I don't think she's been into guys since elementary school. Just a friend, babe."

My head is spinning. I doubt I could take this conversation sober. Being drunk is making this all feel like a fever dream.

I try to think of a response, but I start to feel a bit overheated, and I realize that my head is just spinning. The room is too. No, that can't be right. It has to all be in my head. The lights are bright, and it's hard to keep my eyes open fully. They must have turned up the bass. I can feel it beating through my bones.

Kennedy must notice my eyes rolling to the back of my head, and she grabs my arm. The room starts to go black, and I only feel muscular arms against me as I lose consciousness.