The studio was pitch black. I could hear the breathing of about a half a dozen other people in chairs watching the show. The host, Chase Vanderyacht, is around my mother's age and I believe they even went to the same school.

The man has ginger hair and surprisingly pale skin. He is dressed formally with a red tie and black blazer over his suit. He walks slowly towards the mic at the center of the stage.

"Please welcome Blessed and Cursed's one and only Lauren Tanner to the stage!" He announces, waving his arms in a grand motion.

The theatre erupts into cheer and my mother enters, smiling and wearing a very tightly fitted little black dress with gold jewelry and matching black and gold heels. When she moves to sit down, she staggers a bit. Now if this wasn't my mother this person might just be stumbling because of her precariously tall heels but my mom is a natural in heels. She's drunk.

Crap, I hope she doesn't say something that will ruin my life. But she probably will.

Chase smiles at her as he shakes her hand. She smiles back and sits down.

I turn to Alex.

"Why is she drunk?"

Alex rolls his eyes. "I told her it wasn't a good idea but she didn't listen."

I snort. That was my mother for you. The classic Lauren Tanner if you must.

"So, Lauren," Chase begins. "It's a pleasure to see you again. How is life?"

"Well. It's going well," she replies, an overly enthusiastic smile on her face. "Busy and happy. How about you?"

"Good. Work's been demanding lately and since my wife and I recently had a baby boy I've been on late night duty a lot. What kind of projects have you been working on lately?"

She smiles at him. "Blessed and Cursed mostly. But I have a few things in the works." She gives the camera her most secretive smile.

"Lauren. Your killing us with suspense. Give us a tiny hint. Please." The man man shows her a pleading smile so fake I feel my cheeks hurt just looking at her.

"And..." She gives him a drunken look.

"And what?"

"I've been spending a lot of time with a very special someone. It's very intimate and loving."

"Well then," says Chase. "It sounds like it's pretty serious. May I ask who it is?"

Eww. Why would you ask that? I don't want to dive into my moms nighttime/bed life anymore than the people who are sitting next to me.

"Alex Turner."

All eyes turn to Alex, whose face turns bright crimson. He face palms, shaking his head.
"God, Lauren."

Then I realize what this means.

I stand up and run for the ladies room. You know when I said that neither of the people next to me wanted to know about my mother's intimate sex life. I take that back. Considering it was Miles and Alex, who apparently have both spend some time screwing my mom. Which is disgusting at the very least.

I dash down the aisle, into the hall where the bathrooms are. The swinging door bangs loudly as I bursts through it, then slide inside the closest stall. I sit down on the closed lid of the toilet seat. Why did my mom have to say that. My body shakes from head to toe even though it's over 90 degrees outside. This can't be happening. My mom did not just say she was actually doing it with Alex.

Alex.

His name flares up anger inside of my tight chest. I can still feel my heart beating in my stomach and my throat is dry. I'm sobbing and the Kleenex in my hand is soaking wet and shredded into tiny white fluff. If this was true then why didn't he try and stop my mother from saying personal details about their relationship?! It must be true because my mom is always more honest and sincere when she's drunk, for she doesn't have the mind or willpower over her tongue. The few things and times when my mother has given me sage advice was under the influence of alcohol. I doubt she would lie now.

"I hate Alex!" I shout, my voice echoing through the empty bathroom. "I hate him. I hate my mother. I hate everyone."

More hot tears stream down my cheek. I am so tired of everything and everyone. I am sick of my mother's mediocre parenting skills. I am sick of Austin. I am just sick of everything. My anxiety, the spotlight my life. I wipe away the tears  and close my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep because I awake in a very strange but very soft cozy bed. I open my eyes, blinking away the tiredness. I glance at the clock. It reads 10:56 am.

I look around, trying to figure out where I am and how I got here.  Removing the silk sheets dropped over me, I run over to the window and gaze out over a grove of palm trees and expensive shops. I grab a robe before I notice I'm in a nightgown that isn't mine. I open the door and step out into a shaft of dusty sunshine. Looking around, I spot Miles sitting at a kitchen table island bar with a Starbucks cup and a scone.

"Miles Lachowski , where the hell am I?" I demand.

"Woah Sweetheart," he says, raising his hands in a sign of defense. "You aren't going to even say good morning first?"

I grunt.

He sighs, then sets dish his coffee. "You're in my Los Angeles apartment. After the whole disaster you feel asleep so I brought you here with a little help from a friend of mine. You've been asleep for seven hours."

I stare at him on shock. "Why....?" I stammer.

He smiles. "I've made a little, well, agreement with your mother."