Dream A Little Dream Of Me (An Andrew Garfield Story)

"And......ACTION!"
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"God Mira, do we have to wear these?"
"Do you wanna fill in for Janice or not?"
I scowled, turning away from the blonde, and heading on stage, picking at the butt of my costume. Sometimes, I'm really glad this job pays well.
Mira follows me, along with Halley, Lauren, Dana and Brit. Tonight, we were to preform The Cell Block Tango, from Chicago. I, of course, was so enthusiastic, that I knocked one of our dancers off the stage, forcing me to step in.
Anyway, the point is I was standing on stage, feeling a breeze through the tight costume, and hoping my small butt wouldn't stick out too much. This was meant for the other dancer (the one I knocked off stage) who was about a foot shorter, and twenty pounds skinnier.
The music started, and I allowed myself to get into character, turning around. "POP!" I scowl, starting us off.
We were halfway into my bit when a younger gentlemen walks through the door, a hat placed on top of his head, a smirk on his face. I stop short, my mouth hanging wide open
"CUT!"
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"Drew, pray tell me why did you stop?!?!" The director asks, obviously trying not to scream profanities at me.
"Bathroom, be right back." I grin, hurrying off the stage and towards the nearest bathroom. Once I'm safely inside I lock the door and scream into my braid.
For the next ten minutes I fangirl at my reflection, even going far enough and sending a text to my cousin Elle. It said (and I quote) 'SUCK IT BIIIITCH. I'M IN A MOVIE WITH ANDREW GARFIELD.'
Immediately, she texted back, wanting to know every single detail, down to if we were romantically involved.

A knock sounded on the door.
"You okay in there?"
"Yes Jack, I'm fine!" I call to my agent, splashing some water on my face, before patting at it and heading to the door.
Sliding the lock, I push the door open and give a sweet smile, walking back to the stage and trying to pull the costume out of my butt.
Andrew is standing on stage with an interviewer, smiling and laughing, when he spots me. He beckons me towards the pair, and suddenly, the cameras turn to me. I give my best stage smile and bound up next to Andrew, trying not to squeal with glee.

"So here's your newest co-star Andrew! Miss. Drew Snow!"
"Hello! And who are we doing an interview for?"
"E!News. So tell me, are you excited to work with Andrew?" The guy holds the microphone up to my mouth, and I let out a chuckle, glancing at the boy beside me before looking back into the camera. "I've been a fan since The Imaginarium Of Dr. Parnassum."
Andrew chuckles, placing his arm on my shoulder and pulling me into a sideways hug. I throw my arm around his midsection, hugging back. "PLACES! LET'S TAKE IT FROM ANDREW COMING IN!" The director calls. We smile at the camera as the interviewer calls cut, thanks us and leaves.
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"You're not from 'round here, are you?" I smile at the man.
He gives a half smile in return, as if he'd been expecting me to ask that question, but yet it still surpised him. "Not really." The guy sips from his drink, before running a hand through his brown hair.
"Let me tell you a litle secret Mr......."
"Mr. Freal." He supplies.
"Let me tell you an ickle secret Mr. Freal. Nobdy here is."
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"CUT! That's a wrap for today. Good job everybody!"
Andrew immediately starts laughing really, really hard, and tears fall from his brown eyes. "What?!" I demand, swiping at my face. I turn around and see Elle right behind me, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Letting out a small squeal, I fall to the ground next to my chair, placing a hand over my heart. "I hate you so god damn much."
Elle pulls me up, hugging me. "Lpve you too Hazza." She grins, squeezing me tight.

"If you two will excuse me, I'm going to change." I grimace, heading to my dressing room and pulling on a pair of gym shorts and a graphic tee.
I pulled my hair loose from the bun it was in, parted it, and grabbed my converse before heading back. Elle was chatting up Andrew, occasionally laughing at something he said.
"She literally watched it twenty times?" He asks in disbelief.
"Twenty-two." Elle corrects, and the two share another laugh. My eyes widen, and I hurry to pull my Converse on and hop over there so I could tie them.
"/Who/ watched what twenty-two times?" I demand, feeling a lot like Kurt Hummel meeting Sebastian.

"Nobody." Elle answers for the both of them, looking at Andrew with narrowed green eyes. Said boy is holding his hands up in surrender, pretending to 'zip his lips'.
"So, who wants lunch?"

I POSSIBLY GET TO GO SEE THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN IN 3D ON FRIDAY! YES! ANDREW GARFIELD'S GOOD LOOKING AS- ACTING.
I was going to say acting.
Geez guys, what do you take me for?

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favour,
Marti
And for Lucy,
Miss ya Killer, can't wait till you get home.
Lpve,
Hazza.
P.S. The italics are them shooting the movie. In case you live under a rock. And sorry if they suck. I'm not any good at writing while someone's acting in a movie/play/tv show.