chapter one
"Taylor. Hey, Taylor. Tay. God damn it, Taylor, get your skinny ass out of that fucking bed!"

That was my unpleasant awakening the next morning. Zac has this horrible tendency to be a total jackass in the morning. Actually, he's a total jackass all of the time. It's just heightened in the morning, I guess.

"God, Zac, where's the fire?" I said sarcastically. "It's not like anyone's going to care if we're late. We're Hanson, those three adorable MMMBop boys from 1997."

"We shouldn't be late. It's unprofessional." Isaac's muffled voice came from the general direction of his bunk.

"Which is exactly why you're still laying in bed like a lazy asshole." I said as I threw my legs over the side of my bunk and crawled out. I stumbled to the back of the bus, where a pile of my clothes lay on the floor. "Zac, what the fuck? Did you think that I had jacked your nasty, sweaty shirt or something?"

"You never know. Half the clothes on this goddamn bus are yours anyway. You're such a woman, Taylor." Zac retorted as he followed me into the room.

"Whatever, Zac. Just don't fuck with my shit anymore." I sighed, grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt. I swiftly changed, and grabbed all of my clothes off the floor, tossing them into my bunk as I made my way to the front of the bus. My father was sitting on one of the couches lining the sides of the tour bus, and I plopped myself down next to him. "What's the plan for today?"

"Two radio interviews this morning, soundcheck, dinner, show. We'll bring you lunch during soundcheck." He said shortly before checking out the window to see where we were. Mitch, our bus driver, pulled into the parking lot of a radio station, where several girls were already gathered outside. They began jumping up and down, screaming, when they caught sight of our big red tour bus. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping that maybe if I ignored them, they'd go away.

Needless to say, it didn't work. We practically had to fight our way up to the front doors of the station, nodding and smiling politely. I wanted to tell everyone to fuck off - no, I won't sign an autograph for you, and I definitely won't take a picture with you. I haven't had my morning coffee, and I'm not in the motherfucking mood to deal with all of your bullshit.

I don't think that would have been too good of an idea, though. The tabloids would have a field day with it. I could almost see the headlines now - "Taylor Hanson Screams Obscenities at Fans Outside Radio Station". Not good publicity, especially after the incident where Zac called some guy that egged our bus a dickhead. I always forget that the Hanson brothers are supposed to be good boys that never do anything wrong. Dad keeps reminding me not to let anything bad slip, to stay 'golden', but it's much harder than it sounds. It's not just refraining from saying bad words or talking about sex and drinking. It's hiding Zac's bloodshot eyes after he smokes a joint. It's making sure that Isaac's breath doesn't smell too much like alcohol after a show. It's making sure that no one finds my cocaine, or finds out that I've been cheating on Natalie with a girl at almost every tour stop since she went home with her family in Georgia.

We stepped inside the radio station, where a girl was typing at a computer on the front desk. She looked up, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Oh my God…Hanson!" she shrieked. I rolled my eyes. Not another one.

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