Third floor on the West Side, me and you. Handsome, you're a mansion with a view. Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair. Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs. Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share.

You looked at the number of photographers in front of the red carpet, your palms sweaty as you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down the nerves. Standing next to you your co-star seemed to be feeling the opposite: there was a big smile on his face and he looked more than ready to be drowned by flashes.

"C’mon, it's our turn" He quickly grabbed your arm, dragging you on the red carpet. You quickly fix your dress and hair, trying to look confident while you were secretly overthinking about what poses you to do or if you looked like a complete idiot right now.

As soon as the photographers said that they had enough pictures you basically ran away from the red carpet, trying to find a quiet spot among the sea of celebrities, it was getting too overwhelming for you.

You noticed a small bar that was probably set up for that event and you started walking towards it, slipping a couple of times in your high heels in the process. Finally, you arrived and sat in front of the counter, sighing in relief. The bartender asked you if you wanted anything but you shook your head, saying you just needed a break.

"I see I'm not the only one trying to escape this red carpet" Someone stated, sitting next to you. You look in their direction, only to notice that Heath Ledger was next to you, a smile on his face and a cigarette in his hand.

You looked at him like you just saw Jesus in person and he chuckled, shaking his head. "C’mon, I'm not that famous" He brought the cigarette to his mouth before tilting his head. "And you're as famous as me, if not more."