Drew Grier: A Broken Girl

Chapter 30

~Drew's POV~

Circumstances, there are a lot of them in life. I was supposed to be on a flight to London, start promoting the upcoming album. My single, Independence Day came out the a week and a half ago. It's been three weeks since I first wrote it. But instead, I'm not in London.

I'm in New York.

My flight, was canceled at the last minute. Delayed about twelve hours. So now, that's how long I have here. My mind, conjured up an insane plan. I wasn't going to stay in the hotel, to get sleep, although that's what I desperately need at the moment.

I tried for a disguise, and if I used the special side entrance of the hotel, I could wander about to where I needed. I kept my outfit simple; black skinny jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. I kept my hair straight, pulling a dark beanie on. And to complete it, a pair of rayban sunglasses.

I hoped, prayed, that this would be enough for me to hide for the night, because there is something I need to handle, or do rather. I think it's fate, that wanted me to do this thing, or maybe the fact that I had to do it.

And that is apologize.

I'm not one to do that type of thing, probably because I am so hard headed. I swept through the streets of New York, heading north a few blocks. Passing the hundred of people filling the city. When I had one destination on my mind.

I kept my head low, lips pursed, and avoided all contact with anyone. I don't want the paparazzi following me today, because lately, they're on my tail and all times. Drew Grier spotted! All the magazines say, the tabloids, the gossip sites. They pay, hundreds of dollars, for any piece of information, pictures. And I don't understand why, I never will.

L.A says it's apart of the fame, but if this is what comes with it, then I don't want it. I duck again, afraid that maybe the stalkers with camera's are behind me. The February frost, bit my nose, as snow trickled the sky. I moved faster, I was only a block away, or so according to my phone.

After some intense digging, I found where I was going when I was at the hotel. It took a few calls, and a few promises of secrets being kept. I wandered, freezing, until finally I got to where I needed to be. And that place, is the Ritz Carlton Hotel, in down town NYC.

“Hi, I was wondering if I could get the room number for Gilinsky?” I ask the young Man at the front desk.

“I'm sorry Ma'am that information is confidential.” He spoke, fuck. I glanced over the counter, he had a sticker, one that stated I AM STRONG. Those are mine, a week ago, I came out with some merchandise, and those were in it.

“Please,” I said, taking off my glasses.

He stepped back, peering in shock. “Fuck, you're Drew Grier.”

“Hi, back to my question, I really need that room number. We can take a picture, I can follow you on twitter, anything you want.” I try, desperate to get it.

“Hell yeah.” He handed me my phone, we took a quick picture.

“If anyone asks, we met because I was lost and I was looking for directions. Please, don't tell anyone I was here.”

“I won't, I'm a huge fan by the way.” He gushed, blushing.

“Thank you,” I gave him a hug, as he went back behind the counter, searching for the number.

“It's 517, I'll have you take the service elevator. It'll be easier so you won't be seen.”

“You're a life saver,” I spoke, “and Hey, Blake,” glancing at his nametag, “stay strong.”