I was super low on funds and couldn't rent a car or take a cab to get to tonight's venue. Hitchhiking was out of the question because of the little mishap last time I tried. I figured since tonight's show was only about three hours from last night's show, I could stowaway in the tour bus. Not only would it be a free ride, but I would also be in the same cramped space as Clayton Holmes Aiken. The plan was flawless.

I was tipped off to which hotel Clayton and his gang was staying at by an acquaintance of mine who happened to work there. I arrived early this morning and hung around out by the front door. It wasn't long before Jacob, one of Clay's back up singers, came out. I cornered him and asked him when the bus would be arriving to take them to the next city. He was hesitant to give up the information. He said they were having problems with fans sneaking on to the bus. I asked him to excuse me for a minute.

I ran around the side of the building and came back wearing a tool belt. No one ever questions people in tool belts. I walked back over to Jacob. "It's very important that I know when the bus is arriving. I am scheduled to do some repairs before you guys take off."

He admired my tool belt and directed me to the back parking lot of the hotel, where the bus was scheduled to arrive in 45 minutes. Jacob left to go back into the hotel room and I sat down against the building to wait. I kept one eye on the street and the other on the door in case Clayton happened to step out for some fresh air.

I dozed off while waiting and had a dream about Clay running off and marrying Ryan Seacrest. I was forced to attend the wedding as the flower girl. The sound of the bus driving up woke me from my nightmare. It pulled up a few feet away from me and parked. I waited until the engine died down and the bus driver had walked inside the back door of the hotel.

I snuck over to the door on the side of the bus and put my ear to it. When I didn't hear any noise coming from inside, I pulled the door open and stepped inside. I quietly shut the door behind me. I tiptoed through the bus in case someone was in there. After a quick search, I found it was empty. In the middle of the bus there was a row of bunks. I peeked inside one. It was empty. I pulled open the curtain of the one above it. It had an empty Krisy Kreme box and a bible in it. There was also a large stack of DVDs and a flatiron. I picked up the flatiron and held it delicately in my hand. It was the piece of equipment that styled the very strands of Clayton's mane. I tried shoving it in my pocket, but it wouldn't fit.

I heard the bus door open. A male voice was speaking and I heard Clay giggle in response. "Oh John!" I tossed the flatiron to the floor and jumped inside the bottom bunk. I pulled the curtain shut and held my breath as their footsteps approached the bunks. "Hey, what's my flatiron doing on the floor?" I heard Clay say. The other man bent down to pick it up. Through the edge of the curtain I could see the face of Clay's hairdresser, John Dahlstrom. I prayed he couldn't see me. "How am I supposed to fix your hair for you if you're throwing this all over the floor?"

"I didn't put that there!" Clay shrieked. I heard the flatiron being tossed into the bunk above me.

I could still feel them standing next to the bunk, but they both had lowered their voice to a whisper. I held completely still and strained my ears to hear what they were saying. I couldn't make out anything but Clay's giggles. John said he had forgotten something and had to go back inside to get it. After he walked off the bus, Clay jumped into his bunk. He sat on the edge and swung his feet into my bunk. His size thirteen's collided with my face. I bit my lip to keep back a howl. He removed one of his shoes and threw it into the bunk. It hit me in the lip. I grabbed it up and started shoving it in my pocket. Before I could get it in, his other shoe came flying at my left ear. I held back my tears as I grabbed his other shoe and tucked them both under my arm. Those giants would never fit in my pocket, so I had to carry them if I wanted to keep them. Next the flatiron came soaring into the bunk. I stifled a yell as it hit me in the nose.

After the pain had subsided, I plugged the flatiron into the wall so I could spruce up my look. After the bus got rolling I would crawl into Clay's bunk and introduce myself. But I had to be presentable. I didn't even know how to use the flatiron. In fact, I'd never even heard of one until I had discovered Clay. But I could figure it out.

I heard others getting onto the bus. I curled myself into the corner of the bunk and kept as quiet as I could. A few minutes later the bus started up and drove off. I fell asleep and the wretched dream from earlier continued.

In this dream, Ryan forced me to come along on the honeymoon, which took place at a salon where the three of us had our eyebrows waxed. Who spends their honeymoon getting their eyebrows waxed?! As soon as the salon stylist put the hot wax to my face and ripped it off, I awoke with a start. I was laying face down on top of the heated flatiron. My forehead was scorched.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position and screamed when I set my hand down on the flatiron. My hand quickly flew over my mouth. I prepared myself for Clay to rip open the curtains and throw me on my ass, but he didn't. Oh how I would have enjoyed it.

I climbed out of the bunk and headed towards the front door. I opened it and stepped down off the empty bus. It was nighttime and I was in the middle of a parking lot stocked full of tour buses.

So much for that plan. But at least I got a free ride.