Before Dusk knew it, almost two weeks were gone. She'd recorded two consecutive shows to save time, managed to pass a Science test, been up way too late surfing, and just living in general. Now, D-day was almost here. She hated to admit it to herself, but her stomach swooped every time she thought about it.
Sitting on the plane, playing with an empty Mars bar wrapper, she smiled absently at the clouds. She managed to establish eye contact with one of the flight attendants, and asked; "How much time is there left?" I sound like a kid, she thought. Are we there yet? I gotta go to the toilet...
"About forty minutes, honey." The flight attendant spoke in as thick as a Southern accent can be without actually qualifying as a drawl.
I can't believe my stomach feels like this. Why am I so nervous? Probably because I'm going to get to meet real celebrities for once. She rolled her eyes at herself. Yeah, right. You don't believe that yourself.
"Who's picking us up?" she asked, as she and the crew were waiting for their luggage. "I'm assuming they won't."
"Thou assumest correctly, oh fair fusspot. Their record company decided to give us access to a van for our full stay here. They really want this sort of promotion. You're bigger than you thought, kiddo."
They managed to pile themselves and a whole lot of equipment into the dark blue van, and were soon on their way to a vacant house near the Hanson's, owned by the record company, that would be substituting as a hostel during their stay.