The Lucky Ones

"Come on Gracelyn, it's been twenty two minutes! Get out of there already!"

Twenty two minutes. That's how long I've been locked in the bathroom hiding from the crew, or as I like to call them; the monsters. It's also the same amount of time my brother Braden has
been trying to get me out of here so I can be humiliated in front of the cameras.

Three days they've been here and I've avoided them at all costs, still not accepting the fact my life will be used for entertainment.

Honestly, I would have camped in here all day if it weren't for my growling stomach and lack of will power. I waited another four minutes before I finally caved and twisted the silver door knob cautiously as I tip toed into my room hoping no one would notice me. And what false hope that was.

"Smile for the camera, princess."

I was on the fifth stair as I made a sudden halt. My peach cardigan got caught on the railing for a moment as I reluctantly turned around. It wasn't the words that phased me, no it was the voice. The voice that belonged to him.

It was about two days ago that I learned who "he" really was. His name is Chace Radner and at 21 years old, he's an engineering major and hockey player at Boston University who likes to film eighteen year old girls living their innocent lives in his spare time. His charming personality and good looks topped off his description as the perfect guy which made almost any person fall in love with him the second they met him; except me.

For some strange reason I was the epitome of everything this guy hates and he was making sure I knew it.

I plan on making sure he knows that two can play that game.

It wasn't only Chace though. The three other monsters included Francesco, Leonard and Tommy.

Leonard is my favorite out of the four. He's 26 years old and way too nice for his own good as well as a pretty decent looking guy.

Tommy, the sound tech, accomplishes the role of the quiet one out of the four. He doesn't say much except when he wants me to "speak just a little louder" at which i throw a glare his way.

Francesco comes in a close second for the most annoying. He's loud, obnoxious and is up until 2 'o clock in the morning blaring his show tunes.

"For sixteenth time today, go away," I demanded as I tried to keep my sanity.

"Unfortunately, I wont be out of here for another few months. So why don't you have some fun with this and tell me what you're about to go do," he replied with a sickening smile.

"Alright, follow me," I complied.

Shocked, Chace followed me down the stairs, and through the hall to our massive kitchen.

"Give the camera to Tommy," I told him. "You're going to want to see this before you film it."

Chace handed the camera to Tommy as I took the left over spaghetti out of the fridge.

"This, is spaghetti," I told the camera. "This is Chace," I pointed to him.

"This is Chace with spaghetti on him."

And with that, I reached the spaghetti as far as it would go over Chace's head and dumped the contents on him.

In a split second Chace was covered in noodles and sauce. It had already reached his waist and was heading down towards his feet. I smirked as I started to walk away.

"paper towels are in the top drawer," I smiled. "Try to clean this up, could you?" my voice sounded a little too sarcastic.

I heard Francesco and Leonard laughing from a few feet away. Heck, even Tommy joined in. Chace on the other hand slowly started counting back from ten.

"What is he doing?" i asked Leonard. Suddenly all laughing had ceased.

"Maybe you should go up in your room or something," Tommy warned.

"What, why?"

"Nah, he's fine Tommy. He hasn't done anything for a while now. She'll be okay." Leonard chimed in.

"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" I pleaded.

The room was silent as Chace finally reached 2, and then 1.

In a flash he was in front of me and I was on the floor with a pain in my elbow. I looked up to see Chace being held back by Leonard and Tommy with a snarl on his face.

"Next time, I won't be so nice," he growled.

I ran up to my room trying to hide the tears. I could hear the footsteps of Francisco behind me as i laid down on my bed.

"Are you okay? Look I'm sorry, he really doesn't mean it." Francesco started.

"Then what does he mean?" Sarcasm was evident in my voice.

"Chace, well, he has some, things he still needs to work out. He's been in anger management classes for well over three years now. It's nothing personal, persay." he tried.

"Just leave, all of you!" i cried. "you're all psycho. Go back to Boston or Jersey or wherever the hell you came from."

And with that, he finally left me alone.

I knew I should have stayed in the bathroom.