I had to take a few days break from following Clayton. After staying up all night on the 9th fretting about missing another concert, I ended up falling asleep on the kitchen floor while eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich. I was out cold till 5 PM the next day. When I woke up, I was in a strange place, with no way out and no television. I think someone was trying to keep me from my dear Clayton. In fact, I heard someone say "I'm keeping her from her dear Clayton." It sounded like Maya. It sounded like Ryan. It sounded like both of them in hushed whispers. Hmmmmmmm.

Well, anyway, I escaped and high tailed it over to South Carolina to catch up on the tour. On the way through the state, someone tried to get me to eat Gumbo. Sick bastards.

My seat for tonight's show was on the lawn. Or as I like to call it, The Pauper's Gallery. Pat has refused to support my "habit" and my mother has long since cut off my access to her bank account. I also miss a lot of work to stay home and Photoshop pictures of Clay and I together. All of this has left me a bit strapped for cash.

As I stepped onto the lawn, I spotted a man walking around with a sign that said "Ticket upgrades. $10". I ran like sixty across the lawn yelling "OMG! I have to get upgraded closer to Clay!" People looked horrified and stepped out of my way. The guy pulled out a ticket and I handed him a ten-dollar bill. He yanked the ticket back. "No! $100!!"

I stomped my feet. "The sign says 10!"

"The rain washed away the other 0. 100."

"It's not raining!"

"These are great seats. Excellent seats. The best. You'll be the first Clay notices."

I fished around in my pocket and pulled out all of my cash and loose change. "I only have $85.37."

"Deal!" he shouted. He grabbed the money, thrusted the ticket into my hand, and ran off. I squealed with glee and scurried off to buy a t-shirt with the secret money I had hidden in my bra. I looked back in the direction of the ticket guy. "Sucker."

I took off my old shirt and tossed it on the head of a nacho vendor passing by. I put on my new shirt and went to find my seat. It took some time to track it down through the crazy crowd. I couldn't believe it. My seat was behind a giant pole. The only obstructed seat in the entire house and it was mine. For only $85.37. Plus the 20 I originally spent on the lawn seats. Not to mention the $15 parking!

They saw me coming. I'd been had! Clay would never notice me. He'd never be able to see my sign behind the wretched pole. The sign was a big piece of cardboard with the words "Back off, yuppie scum! He's mine!" scrawled on it in pink cake icing. I put the sign under my seat and sat down to think up a plan.

Someone had written on the pole "for a good time, call Ry. 555-SEXY" It was fresh. I could still smell the ink.

I looked at the girl next to me. She was wearing a t-shirt that said "Aiken4Seacrest".

"Ew."

She glared at me. "What?" I pointed to her shirt and shuddered. "Seacrest."

"He's walking sex!" She proclaimed.

"He's a walking bag of tricks and lies! That rat tricked me into having sex with him in the back seat of his car." He glare turned to awe and she moved closer to me. She excitedly rambled off questions. "Did he smell like heaven? Was it rugged? Is he hung like a horse?"

"Ew, ew, ew." I responded. I copied the number off the pole and gave it to her. I told her to call him and pretend to be me. "Ask him to meet you out back for a secret rendezvous just like the one in his car the other day." I pulled out a bottle of Love's Baby Soft and sprayed her with it. "By the time he realizes you're not me, it'll be too late."

She grabbed my perfume bottle, dumped the whole thing on her head, and ran out the door. Once she was gone, I moved over into her seat so I could see the stage. It was a better view but I still needed a sure fire way to catch Clay's attention when he finally took the stage. I removed my shirt and wrapped it around my head. I stood on my chair and sang 'Bump 'n Grind'.

It wasn't long before Clay's security guard came up to me and said, "Let's go, ma'am." I thought he was there to bring me backstage to Clay. "Let me just get my stuff." He stopped me from picking up my sign. "Clay has asked that all topless girls be removed from the arena."

"Clay saw me?!"

"No. Somebody else saw you and reported it to him. He reported it to someone else who in turn reported it to me. He said he never would have come to Greenville if he'd known he was going to be violated."

"He thinks that's being violated? I'll show him what being violated is!"

I was thrown out of the arena on my rear. The girl with the Aiken4Seacrest shirt was outside. Her shirt was on backwards and her hair was messed up. She was leaned back against the building, smoking a cigarette with her shoes on the wrong feet. I heard a girl weeping softly in the distance. I asked her what it was.

"Ryan. He's crying. He found out I wasn't really you, but it was too late."

I went home laughing, despite my sorrow over being kicked out of the arena.