“I can’t believe you’re married to Rachel McAdams’ sister! That’s so cool” I excitedly said to my Aunt’s best friend since childhood, Evan.
“It’s not what people think, fame. It’s draining and hard. Rachel hates it and can barely stand the pressures” Evan lectured back to me. He said this to me all the time, but I never understood. How could fame be hard? I mean, it seems amazing! All the glitz and glam and having everybody adore you, what more could one want? It bothered me slightly whenever I was fed this statement. They couldn’t be telling the truth. I was sure that if I were famous, I would love it. I mean, how hard could it be?
When I got home, I was still unsure of why Evan tried to push the negativities of fame onto me so hard, but I let it be as I laid my head down and nodded off to sleep.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BE- the alarm clicked off as I swiftly turned over and smacked the snooze icon. Without checking the time, I assumed it must be the routine six o’clock in the morning and that it was time to get ready for school. As I got up to pick out my clothes, I was thinking about my homework due the next day. I bet Rachel McAdams doesn’t have to do homework, I thought, Nope! She just gets the easy A-List life. Adjusting my sweatshirt, I walked, still half asleep, into my bathroom. Without looking at the mirror, I scrounged around my counter for my morning essentials. Picking up my hairbrush I swooped my head upwards towards my reflection and peered at myself with a shock. No, it couldn’t be. I reached my hand up towards my face and placed it on my skin. It was.
Suddenly, I let out a scream. Just as I had done this, I heard a masculine voice mumbling from downstairs and then, in a clearer tone, I heard, “Rachel! What’s wrong!?” I spun around to see Jamie Linden standing in front of me, a slightly concerned shadow across his face. “Is everything okay?” Jamie pondered. “Why did you scream?”
“Nothing!” I replied, maybe a bit too frantically. “Nothing at all, just dropped my moisturizer.” Seeing as Jamie looked still curious and remembering he was “my” husband, I gave my best convincing smile. He shadowed my gesture and walked back downstairs still grinning to himself. I quickly faced the mirror yet again. It was true. I was Rachel McAdams.
Before I could even adjust to this happening, I got a call on a cell phone much nicer than mine. Holding it to my ear, I answered the phone to a shriek.
“RACHEL! WHERE ARE YOU?” A feminine voiced screamed through the phone. “Our meeting was twenty minutes ago! Get down here! Driver’s in the front!” Taking this woman’s notion, I ran down the stairs through what I assumed to be the front door. Sure enough, there was a black car parked at the curb with a man holding open the door. In a hazy confusion, I go into the car and it bolted through the streets. When it stopped, a lady was standing at the doors to a tall, glass building. She grabbed my arm and whisked me up into an enormous office. I noticed her nameplate said Shelley Browning with the words manager in small print underneath. Oh! This was Rachel’s manager! While not completely listening, I heard Shelley briskly explain my day, not stopping until she reached what I was booked to do at two o’clock in the morning.
No way, I thought to myself, there is NO way Rachel is busy all day long. It can’t be true. Without even getting to finish my private thought, I was yet again motioned to the elevator. While descending, Shelley handed me a pair of sunglasses and a hat.
“Can’t believe you didn’t bring your own this morning! What’s gotten into you?”
“I, uh” I started but was interrupted when the elevator doors opened to reveal about three people standing around them. They all quickly began to do my hair and fuss over my makeup and clothes. All the while, we were moving back towards the entrance. What was that? White lights? All the noise? As the front doors bursted open, I found myself bombarded with cameras, microphones, and shouts for my name.
“Ugh, the paparazzi are really intense today. Not worse than last Thursday though, am I right?” Shelley laughed to herself. She opened the car door that was still residing outside, basically pushed me inside, and slammed the door as the driver shot out to the road. It felt like once that car got going, it never stopped. The day was an endless blur of meetings, photo shoots, phone calls, filmings, paparazzi attacks and more. You name it, that day had it. 
At around 1 o’clock in the morning, I felt a shaking pressure on my arm.
“Rachel, you’re home! We ended early today, wow. So odd, you never fall asleep in the car. Ought to get a good night’s sleep, see you tomorrow darling,” Shelley chirped, helping me to my door. I went inside and followed the morning’s path back up to my room. I laid on my lavish bed and to my surprise, I cried. Who knew life with fame would be this exhausting? I couldn’t handle it. Not another day. But what could I do? I was stuck like this and didn’t know how to get back to my beautifully boring, average life. I let the tears flow until my sobs sounded like screams. No, not screams. They sounded like… beeps? I was… beeping?
BEEP BEEP BEEP BE- My eyes flew open and I smacked the snooze button on my phone next to my bed. Propelling the covers off of myself, I sprinted to my bathroom where, to my utter delight, I found my own face. I felt it to make sure and then smiled the biggest smile I think I ever had. With a relieved sigh, I made my way to my closet to pick out my clothes for the day. Man, some people have it hard. I would’ve never thought FAME could be bad. I smiled this thought to myself, more than ready to start a monotonous, normal, amazing new day.