I have five things to say:
1. I blow at subtlety, the most of the time. All the time. Sigh.
2. Yes. I do like Hannah Montana, who was the prime inspiration for this.
3. IDENTITY THEFT IS WRONG. VERY WRONG. IT RUINS PEOPLE’S PLANS AND THEIR LIVES AND UGH. IDENTITY THIEVES ARE MUCHO LOSERS WHO IF WERE BALLSY ENOUGH TO TURN ON THEIR PM-RECEIVING-THINGIE, WOULD GET MANY, MANY ANGRY MESSAGES FROM ME BECAUSE IDENTITY THIEVES ARE LOSERS. UGH. UNCOOL. STUPID BITERS.
4. I call Annie a loser every single time we talk, but I never mean it. Some of us just have verbal diarrhea… That also affects us when we write. Yes. But we don’t mean it.
5. Oh. And sorry this is so late. I dunno what happened… Well I do, but yeah. Sorry.

Like A Rockstar
by: ohwhatsherface

3. Nobody’s Perfect
Everybody has those days…

August 15 (the morning)

Diary,

My concert is tonight.

My concert is tonight.

My concert is tonight.

MY concert is tonight.

I don’t know if I should feel freakishly stoked or just horrendously afraid.

MY CONCERT IS TONIGHT!

TONIGHT!

AS IN LIKE, LATER THIS FREAKING EVENING!

Yep. It’s decided.

Horrendously afraid totally tops freakishly stoked.

WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO?

…

Oh right.

Sing.

And dance.

(And look oh-so do-me-now hot.)

Okay.

I can do it.

I’m the Queen of Awesome.

I can.

I can.

I can.

Okay.

Right.

Totally not nervous,
Ayame, a.k.a. Sakura

-

August 16

Diary,

I am tired as hell and my feet hurt madly and a tad bit (a ton) of my dignity has just flown out the window. And when I say it flew away, I meet in the way that Naruto runs when someone yells ‘free ramen’. For serious.

So dancing isn’t my forte—that much is sure.

It’s stupid.

I hate it.

And you know what else I hate?

Fucking wannabe-rock-star Ayame who is a loser!

How dare she call me right after the concert and then start bitching about how I am potentially ruining her reputation with my skanky boots and terrible dancing and whore-ish behavior and actually saying no comment to reporters and such?!

I WILL DEMOLISH HER.

She is the epitome of lame.

Okay, number one, my boots were amazing. Like, mentioning them in an insult was just taking things way too far! They are designer black leather! They even have pointed toes and super sexy stiletto heels! Seriously! Who does she think she is, insulting them?!

And then my dancing—okay, you know what?! I know I can’t do it! You know why? Because while some of us were taking lessons on how to twist and turn and stuff when we little brats, there were others who were learning how to fight and totally wreck ass and save lives (well that part is a matter of perspective, really…)!

If I had learned how to dance instead, then she would be dead right now, that ungrateful little turd!

And third off:

MY BEHAVIOUR WAS MOST CERTAINLY NOT WHORE-ISH!

I MEAN, I CANNOT BELIEVE SHE HAD THE NERVE TO GO THERE!

Seriously!

SERIOUSLY!

Fourth, why the hell would I spare reporters any answers? Knowing that bitch (which technically, I don’t) she would have yelled at me if I did give actual comments.

Holy hell—

This mission better give a good paycheck or I’ll go psycho.

For serious!

Tired and kinda hungry at that—ooh, craving nachos,
Sakura

-

August 17

Diary,

You know what can make this mission like, ten times more awesome?

If Sai was here, too.

Or I dunno… if like, Akatsuki suddenly appeared and their cloaks got ripped off and then it started raining.

Yep.

I’ll shut up now.

Giddy,
Sakura

-

August 18

Diary,

So I read a tabloid today.

I don’t know if I should rejoice or cry.

Apparently, Ayame now has some sort of Secret Boyfriend.

Said Secret Boyfriend has been declared a Sex God.

And said Sex God just so happens to be a teammate of mine who also just happens to be on this mission.

I’ll give you a clue: it’s not Naruto.

…DID YOU FIGURE IT OUT?

IT’S SASUKE!

EPIC WINNER, I AM!

I’m not gonna lie. I’m kind of flailing right now. Notice how my writing is kinda scratchy and ugly and all over the place (and there are little mini doodle hearts in the margins)? Well, it’s because I’m like, as one of those books Jiraiya (may he rest in peace) wrote, I am totally just convulsing in pleasure.

HELLS YES, BABY!

I HAVE A SECRET BOYFRIEND WHO ISN’T MY BOYFRIEND, BUT THOSE TABLOID PICTURES OF US SURE AS HELL MAKE HIM LOOK LIKE MY BOYFRIEND.

I’ll glue it in here later on for the sake of memories, but for now, I’ll tell you what happened.

See, you know how Sasuke’s default personality is Sexy Complete Jerk? Well he turns it off sometimes and for a few minutes switches over to Secretly Sweet Hottie (my personal favorite, to be honest). And well, when that switch comes about, he’s… secretly sweet, duh.

Okay.

Sorry.

I’m just uber-giddy right now, as you can tell. It was like, after the lame concert when we were going back to my temporary apartment:

Mrs. Uchiha: “Ugh, I’m hungry. I think I want nachos… Should I get cheese or salsa? Hm…”
Mr. Uchiha: “Shut up and go to sleep, Sakura. You have to—” (I’ll be honest. His lips were entrancing me, ergo, I totally did not listen to what he was saying, “—blah, blah.”
Mrs. Uchiha: “But Sasuke! I’m hungry!” (picks up awesome purse) “I’m gonna go buy some nachos, okay?”
Mr. Uchiha: “You idiot, you’re not supposed to go out alone. You’re posing as Ayame, remember?”
Mrs. Uchiha: “So come with me, duh!”
Mr. Uchiha: (sighs and gets coat) “Whatever.”

So we went downstairs and as we were walking to the store, I kind of almost tripped, and like the typical cliché, I sorta fell into him. Onto him. Against him. Him and his (sexy) chest.

And yeah, I guess someone took a picture of that and thought we were like, in an ‘intimate embrace’. And they probably mistook the whole ‘Sakura you’re a klutz and an idiot’ look in his eyes as a ‘glance full of longing and adoration’…

(I should probably put away the romance novels.)

Sigh.

I hope things don’t get awkward between us. Although I doubt they will. I’ll be the same closet creeper I was yesterday who is always knocking pens on the floor in hopes that Sasuke will bend over and pick them up for me for the sake of getting a good view, and he’ll be the same emotionless rock who’s hormones are MIA.

(I’m beginning to think they went all KIA back in Sound.

…DAMN THAT OROCHIMARU!)

Anyway, I need to go brush up on my dancing, at the request of the Bitch.

And my singing.

Sigh.

Still flailing,
Sakura

-

August 19

Diary,

Sasuke sucks.

I mean, he doesn’t know innuendo when he hears it. And he doesn’t seem to understand how come-hither eyes work. Or what they mean. And no, it’s not that my come-hither eyes aren’t working—tch, Naruto can vouch for me—it’s just Sasuke is a MORON.

He’s just bitter.

…Because his brother is hotter than him.

(One time, I actually thought about saying that to his face because he was being a total jerk and his holier-than-thou attitude was getting on my nerves, but I thought it through and came to the conclusion that it might just make him cry, so I didn’t.

But diary, one day, when pushes me, I’ll say it. And mean it. Oh yes, I shall mean it…)

ANYWAYS.

No progress is being made over the whole ‘Finding Ayame’s lame loser stalker’ thing—which frankly, I am taking no issue with. I mean, I’m getting paid to wear cool shoes (and stuff).

This mission is kind of losing its mission-ness in my case.

Anyway, wanna hear my schedule according to Baldy?

August 21 – interview with some teen magazine
August 22 – a small concert with some boy band where I just have to sing one song with them
August 24 – dinner with some nameless fangirl who has a rich daddy

…And that’s all my ears managed to listen to.

I mean, give me a break. Baldy was telling me all this in the shoe closet.

Did he really think I’d listen to him?

Seriously!

Boy-loving,
Sakura

-

August 19 (the evening)

Diary,

I almost died today.

Kind of.

So my stalker is officially a creeper. Well I mean, he always was a creeper, but he’s a creeper-creeper who like, fantasizes about marrying Ayame and wants to like, kidnap her and take her away forever and… and…

And I am a hypocrite.

But seriously.

It was almost scary. Had I actually been Ayame and not a wall-breaking, acid-spewing-slug-summoner, totally awesome kunoichi, I probably would have been afraid.

No wonder Baldy hired us.

The dude even looked like a major creeper. He was wearing a hat so his face was all bowed down and covered. I don’t know how he snuck past security, but he did, and he went up to the apartment and knocked, and me, thinking it was Sasuke coming back from wherever he was, or Naruto coming back with more salsa, opened the door.

He didn’t totally see me because I was in the middle of trying on Ayame’s summer clothes, ergo I was wearing these really pretty gold aviator sunglasses, and this too cute yellow sundress with white mini polka dots on it.

So he thought I was her and jumped on me and kinda latched onto me.

LIKE A KOALA—

(…Bad analogy?)

Well anyway, when he was kind of on his knees and hugging my waist and I was too creeped out to move, Naruto appeared and the guy bolted.

But really.

It was weird.

SASUKE BETTER FRIGGIN’ DOUBLE HIS EFFORTS IN FINDING THE STALKER. SERIOUSLY.

Ugh.

Nervous,
Sakura

-

TBC