1 Chapter 1 Is It Always Like This?

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you in the overhead bins. Thank you."

The pleasant voice of the flight attendant filled the room as I watched the clouds outside and looked below zoomed-in view of Los Angeles International Airport where we will be landing in the next few minutes. I relaxed in my seat as I felt the descent of the plane on the runway.

After a long while, I stood from my seat to take my luggage from the overhead bin built by the cabin ceiling when a flight attendant dressed in black suits with a white shirt peeking over the black coat walked towards me to help me get it out. It wasn't exactly heavy and I could have managed by myself but she still helped me.

"Thanks," I murmured to her giving her a small smile. She gave me a wide smile in return.

I returned to my seat and waited until we were announced that we can exit the plane. I waited for the last person to exit the door when I got out of my seat pulling my luggage into the aisle. When I reached the exit, the flight attendant that helped me earlier approached me with a notebook and a pen in her hand.

With a big smile pasted on her lips, she opened her mouth to talk but hesitated for a fraction of a second before asking me courageously, "Can I ask for your autograph, Cass?"

I stopped at my track walking down the aisle, surprised by her question. I was wearing a red hat this time so I didn't immediately see her face. The rim of the hat was enough to hide my eyes. I lifted my head and gave her a scrutinizing look. She was of Asian descent with slit eyes and a round face.

"Uh…ah…my niece loves you so much and I thought…would it be okay if I ask for your autograph?" she stuttered while asking but her excited voice couldn't be denied, looking at me expectantly.

I smiled at her.

"Sure," I said easily and took her pen and the notebook she's holding, surprised to see that the notebook she clutched tightly has my face on it. Or rather, my sister. I signed the autograph on the middle of the notebook cover and then looked back at her flushed face.

"What's the name of your niece?" I asked her.

"Clarissa." She replied instantly. "She adores you so much, Cassandra. She considers herself as your no.1 fan."

I didn't say anything but flipped on the next two pages of the notebook and wrote a small note for her.

Dear Clarissa, Thanks for always following me and being my number 1. Follow your dreams and believe in them. Love, Cassandra Smith.

I put the cap back on the pen, closed the notebook, and gave it back to her.

"Can I ask for your photo, too?" she asked again while taking them back. She wore a bigger smile.

Uh-uh! I thought.

"Kristina!" admonished the other flight attendant in a high voice. She stood a couple of inches taller than the Asian standing on the opposite of the doorway.

I gave her a bright smile, ready and pasted on my lips.

"I don't mind," I replied calmly as Kristina took her phone out from her skirt pocket and stood beside me, so we could get our photos together. I smiled at the camera and she pressed the button to capture the shot.

The other woman appeared as if she wanted to take my photo, too, she was giving me that look. An unspoken wanting look that you know is solely given to you without needing to say it. So, I acceded her.

"You can have a photo of me, too," I said warmly inviting her to take advantage of the situation.

The tall beautiful woman almost gaped at me upon saying it, but wordlessly, she took her phone, too, and we took another shot. I allowed them one last time to take a photo of I was in a group shot with them. Then, they allowed me to pass the exit door with grateful faces and happier smiles.

"Thank you, Cass! We love you!"

"I'll treasure this Cassandra."

They shrieked with excitement and were laughing like high school girls.

Wasn't Cassandra only supposed to be popular among young girls like herself? Like me? I thought in wonder, smiling.

But while I walked away from them, I overheard the other flight attendant, the one I invited to take a photo of me, chatting to the Asian.

"Wasn't she supposed to be untouchable? The high and mighty Cassandra can't-be-touched Smith?" she asked in a confused doubtful tone.

"I guess, the rumors weren't true."

The Asian flight attendant replied.

"Well, I'm glad that she is an approachable one. After all, actresses can't always be divas."

I reached for my Gucci shades folded and hooked inside my white Louis Vuitton shirt and put it before my eyes.

I shook my head slightly as I continued to walk, my Prada mid-heel knee-length black boots making only a slight sound on the floor while the dragging sound of the red Louis Vuitton luggage was minimally heard behind me until I reached the final exit door of the plane and walked out into the long hall of the airport and finally seeing the vast open floor of the receiving area and roamed my eyes looking for Paul Daniels. He is my manager.

There were many people in the receiving area but I couldn't see him.

Click. Click. Click.

A light blinded me from the front.

I dropped my head down looking away from the crowd. I'm glad I was wearing a red hat to further cover my face.

Click. Click. Click.

What the—? I thought suddenly feeling nervous. I usually don't get this much attention. In truth, I don't get that kind of attention.

But I remember I'm wearing her style. Wearing her dress. Walking in the normal fashion Cass always does.

"Is it always like this?" My thoughts rambled as I deeply search for Paul Daniels.

I looked up again to see flashes of light blinding me and the constant clicking of cameras blocking me from finding the man I was looking for as men holding their cameras in the air swarmed before me, blocking my sight.

Where is he? I thought while my eyes persistently searched for a man with short sandy hair. I tried to see past the Gucci shades that I was wearing, past the crowd of strangers that I didn't know, scanning the area searching for Paul, my manager.

"How was your vacation in Europe, Cassandra?"

"Did you have fun?"

"You were gone for three months. Did you visit your family?"

"Are you ready for your next role in your next movie?"

"Oh, my! It's Cassandra Smith!"

"Look this way, Cass!"

Questions were endlessly asked and swarmed in front of me while the paparazzi swarmed before me and excited strangers crowded around me encircling me with their cameras over their heads, blocking me from continuously walking ahead.

I felt myself suffocating from the people surrounding me. I could no longer breathe and I couldn't see anything except for the numerous arms that were raised and mobile phones and cameras directed to me.

"Out of the way! Out of the way!" I heard a gay's shrill voice shouting behind me.

I turned around and saw the sandy hair man I was looking for.

Paul! Thank God. I thought with relief. I'm a lucky star. Just way too lucky with these people around me. Sarcasm in insight.

He was wearing a black shirt over a bright orange coat and brown pants, his face concealed by a black pair of shades and a mauve hat. He was too bright. He took my red luggage from me taking my wrist with his other hand and pulled me out of the crowd. We kept on walking fast until we passed out of the automatic glass door and reached the entryway before we stopped to catch our breaths. Many people passed us, some stopping when they see me but moved on, going in and out with their bags and luggage ready to depart the place or go back home.

"My car's parked over there, Cass." He said letting go of my wrist. "Let's go."

He pulled my red luggage and I followed him where his car was parked. He put the luggage inside the back of the car and opened the driver's seat. I opened the door to my side and slid inside sitting beside him on the passenger's seat.

We drove away.

He turned the radio on. Selena Gomez' new song '999' filled the silence that hung between Paul and me as he drove along. Her breathy romantic voice was what we heard as Camilo the other singer joined in with her.

"Is it always like that with Cass?" I asked with a bemused offhand tone in my voice, opening a conversation while his eyes were glued to the road. "Is it always like that all the time?"

"Uh-huh," he answered with a grunt.

"It's even worse sometimes."

He said in a conversational tone.

"I could almost die there with those people around me. It was suffocating," I said with disbelief. "I can't believe that she's really living it."

I sighed and complained.

"She lives with it every day, Cass." He said with a shrug in his voice. "Deals with it every day. "

"It can be very tiring, Paul."

I said not wanting to sound like I was whining. I looked at the road ahead of us. Paul drove fast.

"Well, she's not really complaining." He said then turned his head to look at me with his blue eyes.

"While you've already complained about it for the first ten minutes that you've been in her shoes, Cassidy."

That's right.

I'm Cassidy Arianne Smith. A sixteen-year-old nobody.

Cass Smith. Or Cassandra Dianne Smith. She's my elder identical twin sister.

She's the famous actress.

But, right now. I'm gonna be playing that role.

I am Cass. The Dream Star.