There she was. Even with the lights blaring in my eyes and all the girls pushing, shoving and rushing to the stage to get closest to me, I could still see her. She was the only girl in the room to not hyperventilate at the sight of me in Michigan, thousands of miles from my L.A. home. She'd always been that way, different. For the two weeks that I knew her, not once did she shriek and squeal at the sight of me.

There she was, the girl who fell into my life, and threw up all over it, well at least Stubby's shoes. There standing mere feet away from me was the girl who introduced me to myself; she showed me the person I was before Starstruck, before my albums, and before my parents turned to money making sluts. I laughed with her, held her hand on impulse, and spent some of the most memorable times of my life with her. I submerged her grandmother's car in mud and took her away from her life for hours to try to avoid the paparazzi. She even lied for me. The most candid girl I've ever met lied for me. What did I do in return? I denied ever meeting her.

Here, in front of me was the girl whose heart I broke, and who broke mine when I saw her crying in that telephone booth. She was gorgeous, with her intense eyes and full lips. How I've dreamed about those lips; how I've dreamed about her. Spending time with her, getting to wake up next to her, being able to see her smile every day. But she wasn't smiling now. She looked frightened, and vulnerable, probably because everyone was talking about her. They were whispering about how she was a stalker, she was obsessed with me. First I broke her heart, and then I slander her to the media. I insult her to the national goddamned media. What the hell was wrong with me?

It took me days to realize what the hell was wrong with me. I was starstruck; I was struck by my own stardom. I went to that dick of a director and politely told him to take his movie making crap and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. I told my money-crazed robots of parents to stop prostituting me around and to just for god's sake just let me do my own thing. Then I called Stubby and him and I were on the next plane to Kalamazoo Michigan.

And here I am. Looking at her. God she's beautiful. She's seething, ready to kill me, ready to cry. I almost turn around, how could she forgive me? I wouldn't forgive me, but I see a shine, I glimmer of hope in her eyes. She's hoping that I didn't come here to make her seem like the crazed fan the paparazzi made her out to be. Everyone in that room was thinking, "He's just here to tell her to leave him alone."

I was here to tell her to forgive me and come back to me. That was what I wanted more than anything for her to come back to me. "Jessica, Jessica Olson?" I can see her perfectly, but I want everyone to know that that's who I want to talk to, no one else. I hear a few astonished gasps and disappointed sighs. Yeah, like I would get on a plane to Kalamazoo Michigan for someone I've never met. Get real. "I forgot to say something on the interview. I mentioned that you liked me. I may have exaggerated." I see her roll her eyes; I over embellished the story. "But this isn't an exaggeration: I'm completely infatuated, enamored, and captivated by everything you do, everything you say, and everything I know about you."

I heard many sighs of jealousy, and I realized this didn't need to be a public affair. I hopped off the stage, threw the microphone down, and clamored my way though a sea of bodies over to her. As I approached her I noticed her eyes were downcast. I reached her and grabbed her hands; she still couldn't look me in the eyes. "Jessica, I…" Looking up I see the crew of Starstruck ambling through the doors. Their famously nosy interviewer pushed her microphone in my face. She ruined my relationship with Jessica once already. No way it was happening again. I took the microphone that was severely close to my face, pulled it free from her hand, and threw it on the ground. "You can leave now," I dictated to them.

Turning back to Jessica, "Jessica, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I made an ass of myself to you, and an ass of you to the world. I was confused, and I was misled. It took meeting and hurting you to realize what I really wanted. You are what I really want. I don't need another thing in the world, just your forgiveness. Do you forgive me?"

She finally looked up at me searchingly. She was nervous, and didn't answer for a while. Finally, she smiled and nodded. "Yes, yes I forgive you." She took her arms and threw them around my waist, allowing me to put my arms around her shoulders. I hear more sighs and a few claps, but I don't care. My nose is nestled in her hair and I'm breathing in her scent.

We stand like that and the music starts up again. We start swaying to the music. I pull away from her a little bit to look her in the eyes. "You're amazing, not ordinary, amazing, extraordinary," I leaned down to kiss her.

I heard a small cough. Tilting my head up, I saw it was her sister. She can wait. I take my hands off Jessica's shoulders and rest one hand on her cheeks while the other grabs the back of her neck. I pull her into a long awaited kiss. It was the best kiss of my life.

We pull away and smile at each other. I lean down and whisper in her ear, "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"Definitely," she replies.

I nod to Stubby. He's entrancing the crowd with one of his raps. I grabbed Jessica's hand; it felt as natural as the first time we held hands. I walked her out the door and out of the school. I took her to my car and I drove. One of my hands was on the steering wheel and the other was in Jessica's. We just drove and drove, with no radio on, just taking in each other. We had driven for a while, and I pulled up to the edge of a lake. We got out of the car and laid on the hood. I was on my back, and she was on her side, curled up to me. We just looked at the stars. We didn't need a fancy hotel, or a thousand flashing camera lights to be happy; we just needed each other, nothing more, and nothing less.