My dad, Bob, and I navigate our way through the busy backstage halls in search of Chris. Bob and my dad are having a light conversation I can't even force myself to focus on, I'm in too deep with my own thoughts at the moment.

What do I say to him? Do I shake his hand? What if he's a germaphobe? Do I just politely smile and wave? Do I even look him in the eye? Can I even bring myself to look him in the eye? What if I say something stupid? What if he hates me at first glance? What if he backed out and decided to hire someone better at last minute? What if-

"Chris!" Bob yells, pulling me from my mini panic attack.

Oh shit.

A man standing at the end of the hallway surrounded by a group of people snaps his head back in our direction. I see him hold up a finger to the group, signaling that he'll be right back, and he starts walking towards us.

The man, who is more than likely Chris, is dressed in a blue flannel, dark wash jeans, and a pair of white sneakers that probably cost more than any piece of clothing I'll ever own. His dark hair is lightly gelled back and he has a full face of light facial hair. I'd guess he's in his mid to late thirties.

"Bob," he acknowledges as he makes his way over to us.

We're all practically standing on top of each other against the wall as people are still running around trying to move equipment, pushing my anxiety to an all-time high. I grip the handle of my suitcase tighter in attempt to ease some of my nerves.

"Chris, this is my friend, Jeff," he says briefly, gesturing to my dad. "And this is Joslyn," he says with a little emphasis in his voice.

"Joslyn," Chris says, pulling his eyebrows together for a moment, and then raises them in realization.

"Hi, I'm Joslyn. Joslyn Trett. Nice to meet you," I say with a polite smile, prying my hand off of my suitcase and sticking it out to him, deciding to go with that option.

"Nice to meet you as well," he says, giving me a firm hand shake and a nod of his head.

There's a brief silence after he lets go of my hand and he eyes me up and down. His dark brown eyes finally land on mine and there's some sort of emotion I can't quite decipher. Confusion possibly? Oh no, he hates me already.

"Sorry," he says, lessening his gaze on me. "I just didn't expect you to be so... young."

"Oh," I say, slightly taken aback, not really knowing what else to say. What did he expect? "Well, a lot of people would say I'm basically a seventy year old woman trapped in a twenty year olds body," I try to joke and lighten up the mood.

"She may be young, but trust me, she has years of experience. If she can handle wrangling four rowdy pop punk boys for years in a twelve passenger van she can do anything," my dad says, coming to my defense. "Plus, she's kind of a control freak. She can plan and execute everything down to the second."

"Yeah, I've seen her single handedly handle those boys and put them in their place if need be," Bob chimes in, recalling the time he came on my brother's first tour with us. "If I were her I would have quit within the first week," he jokes with a hint of seriousness.

"Oh, no, I'm not doubting your abilities. I'm just a little surprised I guess," Chris says, scratching the side of his face. "Well, I guess we can go try to find Alex so you two can meet. I'm sure he's around here some—" he trails off peering over my shoulder. "Speaking of the devil... Alex!" he calls out.

I snap my head around so fast I'm surprised I didn't get whiplash.

There, sauntering down the hall is Alex Walker. He's wearing a simple white T-shirt with black jeans and similar expensive white sneakers that Chris is wearing. I have to admit, he looks as good in person as he does in all of the magazines. His bright blue eyes are a nice contrast to his dark, chocolate brown hair and fair skin. I totally get why all of these girls probably have his posters plastered on every inch of their walls. He's definitely not an eye sore.

Oh, no. Here we go. What if he's a jerk? What if he instantly hates me or thinks I'm not good enough? What if he comes up here and instantly starts demanding things from me? This kid doesn't expect me to wipe his ass does he?

I go through a million more questions and worries in my head until he makes his final stride to our little group huddle, standing directly next to me to face Chris.

"Hey," he says, quickly looking around the small group with a closed lipped smile. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and waits to see what Chris called him over for.

"Alex, this is Joslyn, the new personal assistant," he says, gesturing to me.

Alex fully turns his body towards me, flashing a bright, warm smile. "Hey. Alex," he confirms, politely taking his right hand out of his pocket to offer me.

"Joslyn," I say, fully turning towards him to accept his handshake. It's less firm and intimidating than Chris's, but I still find myself praying that my hand isn't pooling with sweat due to my nerves. That would be really awkward.

He releases his hand from mine but still keeps his gaze on me. I awkwardly smile and fiddle with the straps of my backpack, mentally willing him to look away.

"Well, I'm glad you two got to meet today," Chris says. "Oh, Bob, by the way—" he turns his attention to Bob as they begin to discuss something about the show.

"So... What time did you get here?" Alex asks in an attempt to make conversation.

"About an hour ago. You?" I ask, trying to hold it.

"About twenty minutes ago," he says, and then there's silence.

"You know, you're a lot different than my old assistant," he states, breaking the silence.

"Really?"

"Yeah, she was a lot older, about to hit her fifties maybe. She wasn't really that great or friendly, and she smelled like cigarettes and mildew," he says, scrunching up his face at memory of her.

I can't help but laugh at his description of her. "What?" I ask, clearly amused.

"I swear, you can ask anyone. It was bad." He laughs along with me.

"Well, I promise I'm not that mean. I also don't smoke, and I like to think my hygiene is pretty top notch. Not to honk my own horn or anything," I joke, pretending to dust off my shoulder, earning a laugh from him.

"Noted. I hope you know I'll be holding you to that," he says, squinting his eyes and pointing his finger at me in a playful manner.

"I promise, I will never come around you smelling like cigarettes and mildew. Scouts honor," I say, smiling and giving him the three fingered salute.

"Good to know. Hey, how old are you by the way?"

"Twenty," I say shyly, starting to absentmindedly fiddle with my fingers, a bad habit of mine.

Oh, no. Please don't tell me he's going to chew me out or laugh in my face because of the fact. I really hope he takes me seriously and thinks I'm capable of doing this job despite my age, unlike his manager.

"Oh, awesome, we're the same age. When's your birthday?"

"August 29th, you?"

"September 21st, so we're only about a month apart. It's nice knowing someone my age is finally on this tour. Everyone's typically a few years older than me," he says, which eases my nerves for the time being.

"Yeah, I—" I start to say, but then I'm abruptly cut off.

"Alex!" a middle aged woman, who looks like she could be a top notch lawyer, yells from down the hall. She has bleached blond hair and a face full of makeup as she wears a nice white blouse, black pencil skirt, black heels, and some expensive jewelry. I have to admit, she looks a little intimidating at first glance.

"Sorry, I, um, I have to go," he says, giving me an apologetic smile while awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "I'll see you around?" he asks as he slowly starts to walk away.

"I think you sort of have to," I admit.

He flashes a smile before fully turning around to walk away, glancing back at me once before following the woman down the hall.

I let out a breath as I run a hand through my hair. I guess the worst part is over. I've finally met the two people I'll be working the closest with and I think I made a solid impression. I'm still hesitant as of what Chris thinks about me, but I'm pleasantly surprised by Alex. Honestly, I didn't expect him to acknowledge me or give me any time of day. He was surprisingly nice and seemed genuine. I've seen him on TV and in news articles a handful of times, and he always seemed like a nice, clean cut kid, but I thought maybe it was just a facade to please the media and thousands of teenaged girl's parents.

Maybe that's not the case, though. Maybe he is a genuinely nice guy, even behind closed doors. Or maybe he has his diva moments. Maybe he hasn't had his child star breakdown yet and I'm going to be at the front lines of it. Who knows. I guess I'm just going to have to wait and see.