It was opulent. I will give it that. But obviously privacy had not been a consideration. In fact it seemed to be designed as a display space. Everything was glass walls and open terraces, with a spectacular view of the Los Angeles skyline. I was not familiar with the politics of celebrity, but I knew this particular suite was designed to publicly show off. To the celebrity press I guess. And I was the currently featured display piece. It pretty much demanded that I be Katherine at all times and never let my guard down. I thought for an instant, at least there's some privacy in the bathroom. I suppose I could at the very least pee standing up.... just for the sake of doing something familiar.... but even that was not to be. After my ritual disassembly, I was ushered by the team of professional pamperers.... because that's essentially what they were.... into the spacious, but private 'spa' ….calling it a bathroom would just be wrong, because while it had the basics, it also contained much much more, including private sauna, steam and jacuzzi, personal massage table and lots of other stuff I did not recognize. I was so out of my element, I just smiled and did what I was told. Until the shots. Those came as a rude surprise, but by the time I objected, the deed had been done. I was told they were a stimulant to keep me alert for the long night of studying, something to keep me calm and focused to maximize retention of all the studying, and a megavitamin cocktail like an injectable Red Bull, to boost my stamina for the long hours and little sleep ahead for the next 48 hours. I was assured by the staff that 'Doctor Dale' was one of the best in Hollywood, and a favorite of all the A list celebrities. 'Yeah. Like Michael Jackson....' I thought to myself. But... the deed was done, so I just took a deep breath and hoped for the best. I knew my handlers would want to protect their investment, so I had no real worries. At least about the short term.

Actually, within about 20 minutes, I really did seem to feel calmer yet more alert. Maybe it was the steaming bath they poured me.... slippery with sensuous oils and pungent with relaxing aromas of lavender and vanilla. I was very relaxed. And apparently quite suggestive. I barely shrugged when the 'Doctor' sat me on the massage chair and started playing with my groin. I guess I was distracted by Mina... the masseuse. She was kneading my shoulders and speaking soothingly of focusing on releasing all the tension from my muscles and paying attention to my breathing and ….I guess in hindsight.... hypnotizing me. At the time I thought it was simply a relaxation technique. And it was definitely that too. Because when I started paying attention to the outside world instead of the images in my mind again, I was extremely relaxed. And at peace. And refreshed. I felt ready to study all night and into tomorrow.... right up until the time I had to dress for the premiere.... by which time I knew with every fiber of my being, that I would BE for all intents and purposes, box-office siren Katherine Keller.

I had been studying for a few hours... distractedly nibbling on celery and sipping a kale smoothie, when I felt nature call. I excused myself and made way to the spa. Now I feel silly calling it that, since I simply had the urge to pee. I remembered my earlier passing thought that this was the one place where I could be L.C. without the ever present paparazzi getting a candid photo, so I smiled to myself and deliberately ….actually against all current instincts.... (curious, that... have to ponder that later) I very consciously stood before the toilet, sliding my designer jeans down to my calves, and slipping my palms between my hips and panties slid them down with the backs of my hands. I reached down to grab and aim.... and groped around with increasing alarm wondering why I was suddenly unable to find it! My growing distress was overridden by the insistence of my bladder as I quickly realized the only course of action to take. I dropped the seat and spun around to relieve myself. I heard it said the human mind can't entertain multiple thoughts simultaneously, but I beg to differ. At that moment my mind was an equal mix of physical relief, confusion and dismay about what happened to my 'equipment' and a concurrent 'duh!' that I should find myself sitting down, jeans around my knee length leather boots, eyeing my cerulean panties over the mound of my breasts under my cowl neck top in my peripheral vision, listening to myself pee.

The part of my brain that said 'you are Katherine now...just go with it' was perfectly at ease with the situation. The part of my mind that said 'You're L.C. As you have been for the entire 18 years of your life... until you decided to buy into this crazy charade only a few hours ago' was quietly freaking out about everything, and the missing member was the latest alarming development. Eventually, I figured 'you're both right. I was L.C. and will be again. But I'm Katherine now and there's certainly no place for that organ in her universe'. So I stopped worrying about it. The ease with which I did this should have raised alarm bells, but that would be paradoxical, so I never questioned why I never questioned it.

I spent the night - and early morning - watching her DVDs.... actually, the DVD extras, with interviews and commentary tracks.... studying her cadence... her accent.... her vocabulary and speech patterns. I felt like a pod-person learning how to be my subject. But since that relaxing massage and meditation, I'd lost all anxiety that I could not succeed. I devoted myself to becoming Katherine. The Katherine from the DVD extras and commentaries. ….the public Katherine.

I had about four hours sleep. But it seemed to be enough. Maybe it was the vitamin shot. Maybe it was the massage and meditation session. I was vaguely recalling the meditation while I was relaxing to the massage. There were specific references to letting go and becoming Katherine... to total surrender and commitment to being Katherine. I figured it was part of 'getting psyched' for the role – kind of like 'method acting'.... and I was totally OK with that. So I accepted the suggestions willingly ...no... gratefully... because they would help me commit to the role and carry it off successfully. No. More than that. I could own the part. I would be more Katherine Keller than the real Katherine Keller ever was!

It was a whirlwind of a morning. I had a sort of 'final exam' from Naomi, one of Dez's colleagues at the production company. She grilled me on all things Katherine, and I guess I passed. She nodded with a slight smile while I sat in my robe ...or was it Katherine's robe?.... enough of those thoughts... at that moment it was my robe... as I was saying, I was sitting at the suite's bar/breakfast station sipping a half-caf macchiato – Katherine's wake-me-up of choice, as I had learned from my handlers.

Naomi gave me a satisfied nod. “Good. Now we're going to do some role play. I'm going to give you the full press treatment, from fawning entertainment reporters to confrontational shock-jocks trolling for a soundbite that'll go viral. ...Macchiato?”

I nodded. “Half-caf.”

“Just like hers...”

“...Dennis told me.”

“....Nice touch. ….and the....” she waved her arm gesturing up and down the length of my body as I sat on the high stool sipping my coffee.

“The robe? I presume it's hers. Or one just like hers.”

“No. The pose. The way your legs are draped on the stool, crossed with your right foot hooking through the leg over your toes.

I shrugged.

“No one coached you?”

“... I think that's how I always sit.... well, how I would sit on a stool this high, if I were sitting here in a robe. It just seems like the way to sit. Modest but comfortable.” I unhooked my foot and adjusted to sit knees together, uncrossed... suddenly feeling very self conscious.

Naomi smiled. “Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. ….I've just never seen anyone else perch that way.”

“You do it too?” I asked, suddenly feeling a bit less awkward about it.

She snorted a laugh. “No! It would never occur to me to wrap my legs into the stool legs that way. Anyway, mine are way too short. ….but Katherine....”

I blushed. “long spindly legs.... I get it...” I smiled, hopefully not revealing too much embarrassment.

She shot me a relaxed smile. “You two seem to think alike. Your posture is remarkably similar.”

“Maybe it's not a gender thing...” I volunteered. “...just a gangly-limbs thing. I can't speak for her of course, but as far back as I can remember, I seemed to feel a bit like a daddy long legs trying to fit comfortably in furniture that was made for more.... averagely proportioned people.” I think my smile betrayed memories of my awkwardness.

Naomi smiled. “This certainly isn't the sort of thing anyone would ever discuss with Katherine, but applying it to her... it would explain a lot.” I began to sense a genuine warmth from this woman who initially seemed to be here simply to do a job.

“OK. Enough idle chitchat. Make yourself comfortable.... stop thinking about your body language. Your instincts seem really really good. If you slip, I'll tell you, but I doubt you will. Stop thinking about your posture and focus on my questions. It's time for role-play 101: hostile media relations.”

Which is what we did for the next 90 minutes. It was intense. And brutal at times. And hysterically absurd at other times. Naomi put me through the wringer. I couldn't imagine any situation with the real press that Naomi hadn't put me through. There were times I was on the verge of breaking down into tears. But she showed me how to channel that into steely resolve to NOT let them manipulate my emotions. There were other times where I was near-hysterical with the ridiculousness of some personalities and situations Naomi played out. Again, she taught me how to temper my reaction and not let on how foolish I thought a person or question was, and not to offend or insult them no matter how hard their behavior seemed to beg for it. As I went through this grueling 'charm school', I began to think about the way people described Katherine's behaviour toward them. And I think I began to see it from her perspective. Or maybe I'm just becoming full of myself.

Anyway, after a very intense morning of 'Katherine Keller' school, I was passed with flying colors – even my accent – which was what I was most anxious about personally. The 'graduation ceremony' consisted of a brunch at Vitesse. One of the celebrity hotspots my cousin Mikey would kill to visit. I must never let it slip that I was there for a very high profile brunch with not only Dez, 'my' director, but Eoin, my costar and onscreen love-interest... and if you believe the tabloids, my offscreen partner in sexcapades as well.

'Brunch' consisted mainly of Mimosas and the occasional celery or carrot stick. Apparently another Katherine Keller tradition. No wonder the poor girl was in rehab. Well, before the drink hit me, I had a lovely conversation with Dez and Eoin. This was a pre-premiere photo op for the paparazzi, who were kept across the street from the restaurant, but close enough that they could shoot to their hearts desire with their long lenses as we dined on the patio. This was also another test of sorts... as Eoin had no idea I was not actually Katherine. I was instructed on the way over that I was to play it completely Katherine. If he twigged, he would be quickly brought into the loop and there would be no danger of a leak. But if I succeeded in fooling him, our odds of pulling off this scheme rose astronomically.

Eoin was charming. Greeting me with a big smile and a warm hug. After doing the celebrity air-kiss thing, his hand lingered around mine as we sat down. It seemed like a subtly romantic gesture. Maybe these two were romantically linked. I made a mental note to panic later about how I would handle THAT. But then I noticed there was something about his touch that just wasn't ...right. It seemed intimate and discreet... but it seemed to lack genuine warmth. I began to wonder if this very subtle public display of affection was in fact, just a masterfully played act? I sat, smiled, bantered. Nursed mimosas, which kept coming no matter how slowly I tried to drink them. After a while, Dez excused himself to hit the loo. The moment Eoin and I were alone, he whispered to me while still pasting on a smile for the cameras “Jesus Christ Kat... you're the last person I expected to see! After the whole thing with your Boxter and the charges. I heard you were laying low. Isn't there a fugitive warrant out for you?”

I just smiled dismissively ...which was pretty easy after 5 mimosas, and waved my hand as if swatting invisible gnats. “S'all under control. Dez and the studio have suits on it. I'm fine. And hey, if we worried about getting press attention for our film, I think I guaranteed that we're going to get a lot more coverage.” I smiled as a wicked idea hit me. “And just in case the press monkeys already forgot about my legal troubles, this should get their distracted attention.” I rose from my chair and Eoin, well-trained in the gentlemanly arts, pushed his chair back and started to rise himself. But I was already around the table, I pinned him in his chair, straddled him like a saddle and planted myself in his lap as I wound my arms around him. Cradling his head I brought him to me as I opened wide and out of the corner of my eye saw a flurry of chaos as the paparazzi pack across the street clawed over each other to angle for the best shot. He was startled and his body stiffened as my lips wrapped around his. Looking back, I'll blame it on the mimosas, but I think I was feeling a bit cheeky and really curious about something. As he responded, planting his free hand into the small of my back and pressing me to him as he swiveled to give the press the best angle of our 'clandestine' torrid moment, I noticed that his lips remained tightly shut. Not that anyone could tell, even from the stunned tables around us, let alone across the street. Still, I now had absolute confirmation that the 'thing' between Katherine and Eoin was yet another Hollywood stunt.

After a suitable time, he pushed me away with a loud whisper. “Jesus Katherine! Be DISCREET for God's sake!” I giggled ..genuinely... he may as well have said “ix-nay on the omance-ray!” I found this supremely funny, and fought to contain myself while I tried with limited success, to wipe lipstick off his face. I think he knew there was a trace left on his face, but pretended to be oblivious. All the more for the press to seize on. I seated myself and was about to wave off the fresh Mimosa they were setting down when Eoin beat me to it.

“Thank you Garret. But I believe Ms Keller has had enough.”

I mock pouted from one to the other, then nonchalantly redid my lipstick. I'll show you short attention span. I caught a gleam from Eoin. He knew exactly how I was playing this.

Dez rejoined us a moment later. As he sat, he looked uncertainly from Eoin to me and back again. He knew something was up. I wonder if he thought I let the cat out?

“....Did I ….miss.... anything?”

I smiled like the cat that ate the canary, and eyed Eoin. He just let out a resigned sigh and replied “I'm sure you'll be able to relive the moment on TMZ....”

And in case Dez was really not picking up on it, I rose and leaned over the table, practically smashing my boobs in Dez's startled face as I dipped my napkin into my water glass and stretched across the table to daub at Eoin's face.

“...missed a spot...” I slurred slightly. I wondered if Dez knew this was all an act. By the way I was wiping Eoin's face like a toddler, and sensing what seemed like genuine discomfort at this intimate and somewhat humiliating act, I hoped he knew he was witnessing a bit of inspired improv. Fueled only slightly by a stomach full of Mimosas.

I couldn't stop giggling in the limo back to the hotel. Dez conceded that the meeting was not only a success, but the 'cowgirl stunt' had the press buzzing and poor Eoin reeling. After Dez got off the phone with him on our ride back, he shot me a wicked smile.

“That poor poor boy. You really rattled him. He said, 'look, I knew she was crazy... you warned me and everybody knows... but my god, I thought she was going to rape me right there on the patio. I think I need a raise.” Dez laughed loud and hard.

'Ah ha' I thought. As if I needed anymore confirmation. But Dez supplied it nonetheless.

“You know you two aren't really an item? ...I mean you and....Katherine and Eoin....”

“We sure seemed like an item today!” I grinned. “In fact I'll bet we're a lead item on TMZ and Inside Hollywood”

“Yes. Your affair ….their affair... it's all very scandalous and feeds the media cycle. …..But there's not really ...anything there... away from the cameras... you do know that?”

“Well, sure. No real heat with Katherine.” I went out on a limb. “...but I bet L.C. Might be able to turn his head... if L.C. Were inclined that way....”

Dez flushed and bit his lip. He stared daggers at me. Then he stared off into space for a few moments. I could sense the wheels turning. “What gave it away?”

“Well, I presumed the whole romantically linked costars thing was at least as likely to be PR, but when I got the ….notion... to play to the paparazzi and did the ...as you so aptly called it... 'cowgirl thing'...”

“Not me. HuffPo. And it's all over instagram and youtube. Congratulations. It's officially a thing now.”

“Well... whatever” I said waving my hand around, still slightly feeling the mimosas “well, when I plopped myself down on him, I felt him stiffen...”

Dez raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no! Not like that!..... in fact, that's the THING..... NOT like that. His back stiffened and he sort of froze. But..... 'little Eoin' didn't stir a bit.” I smiled wickedly. “That's what inspired me to take it further. I knew he wasn't into it, so it didn't seem real... just playing... and I hoped he'd see what I was up to and play along. Which he quickly did. He didn't even open his mouth” I laughed. “It was like he was being forced to kiss his creepy old grandma!” I couldn't stop giggling.

“You are a wicked, wicked girl!” Dez teased. Then he caught himself. He hesitated, searching my face for a reaction. All he saw was my wicked, wicked grin. I was committed to the role, and his ease of reacting to me as Katherine just bolstered my confidence.

Back to the suite, a relaxing Jacuzzi and brief nap then it was time to be fitted for the red carpet.

Another round of shots. Guess they wanted to be sure I was up for my Big Night and some serious pampering as I was prepared to meet my public.

I probably should have been nervous. Thinking back on that night, I had every reason to be scared witless. I think I was just so overwhelmed by everything, I just flew on instinct. The whole night is a blur in my memory. The red carpet. The fans. The media circus and studio politics. The schmoozing and posing with what felt like everyone who had ever appeared in a glossy celebrity fanzine. It was all so surreal and dreamlike, I felt like I was sleepwalking through it. I may, in fact, have nodded off for a moment or two during the film. It was ….long. And lavish. It reminded me a lot of the Bollywood movies that were always playing at the old video store when I was a kid. Lonnie, the owner wasn't Indian, but he was a huge Bollywood fan for their sheer audacity and enthusiasm. He turned the video store into a cyber cafe years ago, but I think films are still his passion if no longer his profession. I'd love to look him up when I get home and sit him down to watch the new Thornbirds. I'd love to watch his face as he experiences this film for the first time. It's as if someone stuffed Verdi's Carmen, Showgirls, and a Sergio Leone western into a blender then poured the slurry all over the Rocky Horror Picture show directed by the ghost of Busby Berkeley. The only things I can say with certainty about the film is that I have never, ever seen anything remotely like it.... and that it is, in its own way.... unforgettable. I think the audience was as stunned as I was.

As I spoke to the press on the way out, I kept on my perma-smile and kept saying vague things, like “I knew it was ...special, while we were making it, but seeing the finished product on the big screen.... it's so much ...more.... than I even imagined.” And “I have no doubt, that once word gets out, people will HAVE to see this for themselves. It can't be described. It MUST be experienced. ...am I right?”

I think a lot of the press who attended the premiere were on my wavelength, because I got a number of conspiratorial smiles and eyes crinkled with mirth as I 'talked up' the film in a way that sounded like standard film shilling, yet to those who saw what I saw on that screen, everything I said could be taken in an entirely different – but equally accurate – way. It truly couldn't be described and had to be experienced. Like an acid trip. Or near death experience.

Everyone from the production company seemed happy with my performance. No one seemed to sense any snark in my public comments. Which was a relief. I made great effort to sound enthusiastic and not come off as sarcastic. It seemed to work, as I overheard others involved with the film discussing with reporters how uncharacteristically gregarious and social I was. I heard several chortles as people had asked if I'd 'changed my meds'. Poor Katherine. If she had to face this shit all the time, no wonder it drove her to ….whatever it drove her to.

I met up with Dez and Eoin and half a dozen other cast members and we hit a quick succession of after parties. It was apparently all politics. I picked up on that pretty fast. At one high profile party packed with studio execs and hand picked media lapdogs who were sworn to 'off the record' status under threat of losing their privilege and access, Kirk, our music director kept trying to cajole us into doing a few numbers from the movie. He kept whining that we'd all worked so hard to learn them ...and he kept leering at me which drew a nervous laugh from the rest of the cast... that after all that work to finally nail our performances, it would be a shame to not do them at least one more time while they were still fresh.

“Like a BRUISE!...” I kidded, figuring it was the sort of thing Katherine would say. Apparently so, since it brought the house down.

Eoin stood up on the piano bench and shouted to the cast, “Maybe we should. If this movie isn't the blockbuster we're all hoping for, we'll need to do something to make a living. Maybe we could take it on the road as live dinner theater!” This brought another roar from the crowd.

I guess I was feeling very confident in the Katherine role, because I leaned over to Kirk who was standing by the piano, and whispered “How about 'Drogheda, my blessing my curse'?” The big 'showstopper' number between Eoin and Katherine with the rest of the cast. He grinned wickedly and slid behind the piano. As the familiar chords began to resolve into the piece and the cast recognized the number, smiles began to erupt and I noticed eyes all around the room searching to find me. I had snuck over to the doorway near the kitchen to intercept one of the bustling caterers. When one emerged with a fresh tray of hors d'ouvres, I hijacked her tray and spun into the room just as the intro was ending and began singing. I'll admit, I only saw the number once, when I sat open mouthed at the premiere, witnessing this astoundingly inappropriate number between the underage virgin and the priest. I may have only seen it the one time, but it was seared in my mind as vividly as if 'd witnessed a horrific accident. I was sure I recalled all the words, and even if I didn't, I assured myself, I already planned to ad-lib some preposterous parody lyrics anyway, keeping with the whole dinner-theater thing Eoin had quipped about. I belted out the number with near-operatic melodramatic delivery, all the while offering other party guests snacks from my tray and pretending to take drink orders.... which I sometimes managed to shoehorn into my ad-libbed lyrics, to the delight of the partygoers. Eoin quickly got into the spirit of things, commandeering a champagne tray from a waiter and proffering drinks to the guests as we did our number. When we got to one of the really awkward sexual tension moments in the number, he would grab a drink off his own tray, toss it back nervously and gulp loudly. It was very Nathan Lane. This tore up the house and actually played much much better than the prolonged tension in the actual filmed number. The rest of the cast joined us for their 'greek chorus' part and the big finale, grabbing napkins and pretending to wipe down tables, bus dishes and generally carry on as food service staff as we all brought it home to our big finish and the other party guests erupted into whoops and applause. Everyone joked that the 'dinner theater version' was looking better and better!

Eoin pulled me aside and whispered agitatedly “Jesus, Katherine! When the hell did you actually learn to sing?”

Oh crap. She didn't do her own singing? I caught Dez smirking out of the corner of my eye. He was enjoying this.

I blushed bright crimson. I could feel the heat light up my face. I smiled up at him bashfully and in a tiny voice, peeped “better late than never?” He let go of my elbow and stepped back, regarding me for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he threw his head back and let out a laugh that rang through the room, causing every head to turn in our direction.

“Just like the accent!” he howled. “YOU.... are fucking priceless!” He walked away shaking his head, but still laughing. I hoped we were still 'good'.

Dez wandered up to me smiling. “You, my dear, are simply full of surprises. What do you say we call it a night? I think you've done enough to Katherine's public image for one day, eh?”

I was suddenly mortified. I was feeling so full of myself, enjoying playing this role, that I went completely 'off-book' and did god-knows what damage to Katherine's reputation!

Once we were in the limo on the way back to the hotel, I began profusely apologizing to Dez. I felt so ungrateful. I was being paid a staggering sum to be treated like celebrity royalty, and really surprising myself by how much I enjoyed it. I began to relax and let my hair down ...let her hair down... and got swept up in the moment. I apologized over and over if I seemed snarky about the film, I thanked him over and over for giving me this job and expressed my profound regret at disrespecting all his hard work by doing that satirical dinner theater spoof at the party.

He listened quietly and impassively. Letting me trip over myself with my fawning apologies. When I finally ran out of steam and stopped to catch my breath and sat back to gauge his reaction, he simply put up his hand and smiled. “You were extraordinary. You charmed the press, got a lot of quotable soundbites in ….none of which came off as disrespectful of our work... despite whatever your true feelings may have been” he crooked an eyebrow at me and I blushed slightly. But he remained smiling. “Your performance at the premiere and demeanor at the parties was..... delightful and utterly unexpected. I'm hopeful that tomorrow.... later today.... people will be talking about our film. But I have no doubt at all that the media buzz machine will be buzzing loudly about you.”

“...Is that a good thing?”

He nodded.

“What do you think they'll say?”

He grinned. “Probably that Katherine Keller is obviously off her meds....” then he crinkled his eyes and turned to me “...and it is definitely an improvement!”

I got to sleep in until I was rudely awakened around noon by Dennis the entourage guy. “C'mon miss thing... rise and shine... things to be done... plans to be made... meetings to be taken...” he paused a beat and shot me a look over his shoulder “...hearts to be broken.” and he threw the bedroom doors wide open as he left. I was bathed in the aroma of freshly made coffee, so I grabbed my robe and padded to the kitchen bleary-eyed following the scent of my steaming half-caf macchiato.

Everything got packed up and we made our way out to the lobby and waiting limo. In the lift I asked Dennis where we were headed.

“Why, home of course.”

“Oh. Of course.... and where exactly is home?”

He just smiled and slapped me on the arm. “Girl.... You are so funny!”

As the small army that was 'team Keller' moved trunks and racks of clothing into waiting vans, I got on the phone to Dez.

“What about my cousin Mikey.... Michael? We agreed he's part of this plan too, right? Or I'll be forced to reconsider....”

“Of course he is. No one is forgetting him. My P.A. talked with him this morning. He has a few more things to do with the contest people, then he's free to head home. At which point, he'll actually be joining you.”

'Home', actually turned out to be Monterey. It seems Katherine was doing rather well for herself. Dennis told me she bought this back when she was modeling so she could have a place to escape 'the scene' whenever circumstances permitted, which were rarely enough. I was greeted cordially, and I also sensed, slightly fearfully, by the sizable house staff. Dennis quietly told me everyone's name and none of them seemed to notice that I wasn't the real deal. I had a message from Dez that he was coming up with Mikey the next day and we were going to discuss the press junket for the film, and what exactly Mikey's alleged role in my entourage was to be. I knew Mikey and I were also going to have to make a tricky long distance phone call and persuade his mum and dad to let him extend his stay.

I figured we could tell them that he so impressed the movie people that they offered him a job on the publicity tour.... perhaps as a dialog coach and background information advisor on all things Australian for those few cast members who weren't actually Australian... most notoriously celebrity terror Katherine Keller. ….Yes!... the more I thought about this, the more that story seemed to work for Mikey's folks and to explain his presence in my entourage. ….as for his older cousin, Mikey and I could explain how, since he was still 17 and legally a minor, he had been able to persuade the film company to let me tag along as his official chaperone. I was sure we could convince them. As for my own folks, I'm sure my mum would be thrilled that I was having a summer adventure abroad, and I figured my father would like the extra peace and quiet and not having to see me at the supper table each day. I only hoped he didn't seize the opportunity to throw out all my stuff and rent my room out to a boy who better met his standards. Still, I didn't worry too much. If he had my mum box up all my trophies and ribbons and put them in storage while he rented my room, I'd be ok with that. I would be able to afford my own place by the time this was over.