Stalk Me

“Yay! Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“Keatyn, I’m serious. I’m giving you an awful lot of freedom. Do not disappoint me.”

 “I won’t. I promise. Tell the girls I love them, and I’ll Skype them soon!”

“Be safe!” everyone says.

“Love you too,” Mom says. She’s quiet for a couple seconds. “I still can’t believe you slept with Brandon and didn’t tell me!”

“Goodbye, Mom.”

Wednesday, July 27th

My horrific ends.

2pm

We got back yesterday from our tour of some of Europe’s greatest surfing spots. We really had a great time. We surfed some killer waves, many of which were way too advanced for me, but Brooklyn had no problems with them. He just seems to keep getting better and better. On the water he is in his element. It’s like he belongs on a wave, and it’s really where he seems happiest.

And I’m happy too. We’ve relaxed and chilled.

There’s nothing like surfing and lying on the beach for a month to help you forget about reality.

But now that we’re back at the house here in France, I’m really pretty excited to get back to the real world.

At least to dress up again. To do my hair all up.

For the beach, I packed very light. Bikinis, sweatshirts, and a few sundresses that I could roll into a ball and fit in a backpack. We stayed at a couple nice resorts, but overall, it was very casual. And I literally lived out of a large backpack.

For a month!

Which I need to check into, because that just might be some sort of fashion record.

For hanging with Damian on tour, we’ll be in bigger cities, which means I need good clothes, fun clothes.

So as soon as we got back to the house, I excitedly hit the swag closet.

Brooklyn finds me surrounded by clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding some cute outfits to pack. I wasn’t pla

He eyes the three pieces of luggage I have sitting on stands, and he cringes.

“Do you have to take the Vuitton luggage?”

“Yes. When you travel with good luggage, people treat you nicer. You should always dress nice when you travel. It says something about you.”

“Like I waste my money on conspicuous consumption because it makes me feel better about myself?”

I joke around and flip him off, but his comment irritates me a bit.

“You did fine for the last month with just a backpack.”

“Yeah, but we were casual at the beach. Now we’ll be in cities; it’s different. And what about you? You know that we’ll go to some nice di

“If I need stuff, I’ll buy it there.”

“So you want to spend money on clothes when I could give you some for free?” I come back with.

He just shakes his head at me.

Later while we’re riding to the airport, he says, “What are you doing?”

“What?” I say.

“You’ve been sitting there for the last twenty minutes doing nothing but looking at your hair.”

“I’m not looking at my hair, B. I’m looking at the ends of my hair. I think I found a few split ends.” I lean my head closer to him. Show him my horrific ends. “See?”

“I see hair.”

“You have to look at each strand. See how a few of the ends are broken-looking? It’s not healthy. I need a haircut. I can’t be seen on Damian’s tour with split ends.”

“You know, you worry a lot about how you look.”

“Well, of course I do. I always want to look nice. This summer, I’ve been totally slacking in that department.”

“You’re pretty without makeup. Without your hair all done. You’ve looked fine all summer.”

“Well, thank you. But I like the way I look when I wear makeup. When my hair is done. What’s wrong with wanting to look your best?”

“I don’t know. Just seems superficial. You need to chill.”

“FYI, Brooklyn. Hair is not supposed to look chill. It’s supposed to look pretty. Chill hair means bad hair, and I refuse to have bad hair. And I refuse to have split ends.”

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes at me.

“I’m calling Kym.” I grab my cell and hit Kym’s number.

She answers, “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

“I have split ends and I’m going to be in Berlin tomorrow. Can you help me?”

“Of course, I can. Hang on. Let me look up a contact.” She’s quiet for a minute. “Okay. Let me make a call, and I’ll text you with the information. What time do you want to be seen?”

“How about two? That will give me plenty of time to get ready.” I look down at my toes and frown. “Honestly, my toes are really sad looking too. I’ve just been painting over them.”

“I’ll get you set up. What about Brook? Does he need anything?”

“B, do you need a haircut?” I ask him with a smirk. I already know the answer.

He shakes his shaggy hair at me.

“No, he’s good!”

Friday, August 12th

Hands all over your ass.

11:15pm

We’ve been following Twisted Dreams on tour for a little over two weeks now. And although our summer has been amazing, Brooklyn is starting to get on my nerves.

Or maybe I'm getting on his nerves; I’m not sure.

We didn’t fight all summer. Our time at the beach was perfect—easy and carefree.

We’d get up at dawn, surf, and then come back and eat breakfast. We’d lay in the sun until late afternoon, then go back to our room, have sex and take a nap. Then we’d hang out with some of the new people we’d met, have di

But now, he keeps getting mad at me for no reason.

Damian grew up like I did. Lots of traveling and visiting movie locations. Some of the places we've been have been gorgeous and opulent. Other places, not so much. I think we've both learned to function in any type of environment. Following Damian on tour, we've stayed at a wide variety of hotels, from modest ones in smaller cities to an opulent, modern one in Berlin.

No matter where we went, B complained.

Complained about my luggage. Complained about the food. Complained about the crowds. Complained about my clothes. Complained about my shopping.

So maybe I went a little crazy buying leather goods in Italy. I mean, it's Italian leather! Where else am I going to get it? So I bought a few pairs of Italian shoes. And so what if I maybe splurged on a gorgeous handbag?

When I told him it was okay to splurge on it because it’s a classic style that I’ll totally cherish forever, he laughed at me in a haughty way and told me only diamonds last forever.

I gri

It shut him up for a while.

Now we’re in London, which is our last stop before B and I head home. It was also one of the biggest venues Twisted Dreams has played.

I was so excited for them!

I dressed appropriately for the concert last night.

I wore an adorable Dolce & Gabbana black mini loaded with spangles. Gorgeous black leather motorcycle jacket. Hot pink band t-shirt with huge letters that spell out ABBA and VOULEZ VOUS, which is the start of the French lyrics in one of their songs asking if you want to sleep with me tonight. And killer hot-pink glitter platform wedges.

I looked totally like a groupie.

 B complained that my shirt was suggestive, my skirt was too short, my hair was too big, and my makeup was too thick.