I was quite upset over having missed Clay's opening show on Tuesday, but as luck would have it, the show turned out to be cancelled. If that's not a sign from fate, then I don't know what is. I was determined not to miss tonight's show. Since it was my first Aiken experience, of course I was stoked. I went to great lengths to make sure nothing happened that would cause me to miss the concert. I checked and double-checked the date on the ticket. I even called the arena seven times to make sure he was playing there tonight. Rather than trusting that blasted Mapquest, I got directions from a local cabbie. I was up bright and early this morning. In fact, I never went to bed last night. I stayed up till dawn watching reruns of "Law & Order:SVU", and shaving layers of hair off my legs.

When the sun came up, I went to the local mall to buy a new outfit. I couldn't very well show up in my work attire, which I was wearing last night when I hopped a plane and flew across several borders. Even if Clay worshipped McDonald's, he certainly wasn't going to fall head over heels for a girl wearing a McDonald's uniform. Especially one that was 2 sizes too big and covered with Nair and leg hair.

On the way to the arena, I crashed into a median while trying to open a Tabasco Slim Jim with my teeth. Since the company I rented the car from, Not Luxury Inc., had a policy of "You break it, you bought it.", I ditched the car on the side of the road and hitchhiked the rest of the way. As soon as I stuck out my thumb, a black Porsche screeched to a stop at my side. The driver leaned over the passenger seat and opened the door. There was a pile of 90210 Barbies on the seat. He tossed them into the back and motioned for me to get in. He had a hat, sunglasses, and a face full of stubble. He also had an oddly colored mustache that appeared to be held on with scotch tape. His voice was deep, but almost sounded disguised. My mind shuffled through recent episodes I'd seen of 'America's Most Wanted', but nothing rang a bell. I looked him over as he drove. His appearance was disheveled, but in an attentive way. It was odd. It was familiar. I asked him about it. He shoved a Twinkie in my mouth and put on 'I Swear' by Nick Lachey.

"Isn't this the same song as 'I Do' by 98 Degrees?" I asked after I had swallowed the mess of Twinkie.

"No!" He answered angrily.

"Yes it is. Listen." I went to rewind the CD, but he reached out and slapped my hand before my fingers could touch the CD player.

I kept my hands in my lap and asked him to drop me off right in front of the arena. When we arrived at my destination, he pulled over to the curb. As I reached for the door handle, I heard the automatic door lock. I tried the handle but it wouldn't open. When I asked him what the deal was, he just smiled. He insisted I return the favor of the ride by letting him make sweet love to me in the backseat of the car. I refused. I was already running late, plus I didn't even know this man. But after he suggested that the after-glow might entice Clayton, I gave in. He was oh so gentle. And rough at the same time. A familiar cologne kept wafting up my nose.

After we finished, I got out of the car and hurried away. As I walked towards the building, I turned and looked back at the car. The license plate said "C-CREST". "Oh my God!" I yelled out loud. My stomach prepared to dry heave when I heard the sound of Clay's voice coming out of the arena. The mere sound made me dizzy. Then the thought of meeting Clay while I was covered in the sweat and lust of Ryan Seacrest made me want to puke. I turned to walk away from the arena and stumbled down the curb. The black night became blacker.

The next thing I knew 'When You Say Nothing At All' was being sung into my ear and I was lying flat on my back in an empty parking lot. Empty except for Ryan Seacrest standing over me. Ryan looked down on me with concern in his eyes. "I was just passing through the neighborhood and I saw you lying there."

I looked around the parking lot, bare except for the black Porsche that had dropped me off. I looked from the car to Seacrest and back to the car again. Then I remembered what had happened in that car. I screamed at the top of my lungs. Ryan was startled to his feet. "You sick son of a bitch!" He backed away from my swinging fists.

I suddenly realized what that empty parking lot meant. The show was over and Clay was gone. I had missed the show yet again. If that wasn't bad enough, I noticed my new shirt was covered in footprints. Those jerks couldn't even step over me to get to their cars.

I cried and cried. Ryan tried to hold me. I slapped him. I let him drive me back to my hotel, crying all the way. He cried too because I wouldn't let him touch me, talk to me, or look in my direction. Back at the hotel, I wept through 5 episodes of 'Law & Order: SVU'.