- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Time of My Life
“Five minutes,” yelled the crew member backstage.
Two burly black men stood in front of the door, shoulders back, sunglasses on, and hands crossed. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have assumed they were guarding President Obama. After showing them our large rectangular passes hanging around our necks, both men opened the door leading us into a roomful of other children and their parents.
Everyone quickly rushed to line-up for the meet and greet of the Jonas Brothers. Fortunately, my best friend’s and my 5 feet 3 inch bodies weaved around everyone landing us at the front of the line. We had to stand behind a black curtain, but we found a hole to peek through while we waited.
Just ten minutes ago I had hopped into a limo as my best friend’s mom handed both of us backstage passes and repeated the most important rules:
“No talking to strangers.”
“No giving these passes to anybody.”
“No wandering off by yourselves.”
Obviously, the only rule that we agreed to was the “Always stay together” rule.
Those few minutes I had to wait were probably the longest of my life. Every five seconds my best friend would ask about the time, and after repeating 6:27 about seven times, I knew that once they arrived, we would freeze in awe.
Finally, the Jonas Brothers entered from the set of black curtains on the other side. Most people couldn’t see them yet, but everyone began to yell once we screamed, “The Jonas Brothers are here!”
One of the managers opened the curtains for us to enter, but we were frozen. Even when Kevin Jonas gestured for us to come over there, we hadn’t budged. The manager finally had to give us a little push to get us moving.
“Hi, I’m Kevin. I’m Joe. And I’m Nick,” they introduced.
“Nice to meet you” I replied, my voice cracking. Looking back, my mind was in such awe I hadn’t thought of introducing myself or even saying my name.
We turned around to take a picture and after the camera flashed, they signed our posters and we were ushered out. Once we were far enough from the meet-and-greet area, my best friend and I held hands and jumped with excitement like little girls getting their first Barbie doll.
The meet and greet may have lasted about 10 seconds, but it made me realize something. Celebrities scarcely get any privacy because crazy fans, like us, always find a way around the rule. I’m glad I live like a regular teenager – going to school and running errands without paparazzi following me around. But then again, being a household name has its benefits as well.