And J.P. has J.R. nobly standing by the princess’s side and supporting her (despite the sexy dancing, which I guess is supposed to make everyone hate her and think she’s such a slut and all). Right now there’s a scene going on where Stacey Cheeseman is tearfully explaining to Andrew Lowenstein that she could understand it if he didn’t want to be with her, because he’ll never be able to have a normal life with her, what with all the beer swilling and sexy dancing and the fact that there’ll always be paparazzi chasing them around. And then if they were ever to get married (!!!!), of course he’ll have to become a prince, and lose all his anonymity, and as royal consort, he’ll always have to walk five feet behind her and never be allowed to drive race cars.

But Andrew Lowenstein is saying, in a very patient voice as he holds Stacey Cheeseman’s hand and looks lovingly into her eyes, that he doesn’t care, he just loves her so much, he’d be willing to suffer any indignity for her, even her sexy dancing and his having to become a prince….

Oh, and now everyone is clapping like crazy as the curtain falls, and J.P. is joining the cast as they come out to take their bows….

I just…I just don’t get it. I mean…his play is about us.

Only not really. Half the stuff in it didn’t even technically happen the way he has it happening.

Can you do that?

I guess so. He just did.

Wednesday, May 3, 11 p.m., the loft

Dear Author,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript, Ransom Your Heart, with Tremaine Publications. Although your work shows promise, we don’t feel we have a place for it at this time. We apologize for the fact that, due to the volume of submissions we receive, we cannot give you a more detailed critique of your work. Thank you for thinking of Tremaine!

Sincerely,

Tremaine Publications

Thanks for nothing, Tremaine Publications.

Anyway, J.P.’s play was a huge success.

Of course, he passed the senior projects committee with flying colors.

But that’s not all:

Sean Penn wants to option it.

Which basically means Sean Penn—Sean Penn—wants to make A Prince Among Men into a movie.

Which I’m totally happy about. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled for J.P.

And there are already so many movies about my life. What’s one more, right?

It’s just…WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE MY TURN?

Seriously. When is someone going to recognize something I’ve done? Other than bring democracy to a small European nation, which frankly no one seems to care about.

I don’t mean to whine (which I know is hilarious, because it’s basically all I ever do in my journal), but for God’s sake. I don’t think it’s fair that a guy can write a play (which is basically a huge chunk of MY life that he’s more or less STOLEN), throw it up onto a stage, then get a movie deal with Sean Penn.

Whereas I slave—yes, slave—over a book for months, and I can’t even get a publisher to look at it.

Come on!

And I’m going to tell you the truth: I didn’t like that Sean Penn movie Into the Wild so much.

Yes! I know it was critically acclaimed! I know it won all these awards! It’s very sad that boy is dead and all. But I thought the movie Enchanted, with the singing princess and the chipmunk and the people dancing in Central Park, was cuter.

So there!

Anyway, J.P. came up and asked me how I liked A Prince Among Men. (“I was exploring the theme of self-discovery,” he explained to me, “a boy’s journey toward manhood and the woman who helped him find his way from troubled childhood to the full realization of what it means to become a man…and eventually even to become a prince.” He didn’t mention anything about exploring the theme of sexy dancing.)

I told him I liked it a lot. What else could I say? I guess if it hadn’t been about me, I really would have liked it. Except that the princess came off as this kind of kooky girl, who always needs her boyfriend to bail her out of the zany situations she gets herself into, and I don’t actually think I’m like that. I don’t think I need any rescuing at all, actually.

But it seemed the wrong time to give him editorial notes. And I was glad I didn’t, because he seemed so pleased to hear me say I liked it. He wanted me to come out with him and Sean Penn and his parents and Stacey Cheeseman and Andrew Lowenstein so we could all talk about his movie deal. Sean Penn was taking everyone, including the senior projects committee, to Mr. Chow’s for a celebratory meal.

But I said I couldn’t go. I said I had to go home and study for my Psych final.

Which, I will admit, was not very friendly of me. Especially since I don’t have to study for my Psych final at all. I have Psych down cold. After all, I was best friends for most of my life with a girl whose parents were psychiatrists. Then I dated her brother. And now I’m in therapy.

But obviously this didn’t occur to J.P., because he just went, “Are you sure you don’t want to come, Mia?” then kissed me when I said no and then hurried to join Sean and Andrew and Stacey Cheeseman and his parents at the theater door, where tons of paparazzi were waiting to take his photo.

Yeah. Because there were huge amounts of paps in front of the theater. As I made my own way out, they asked me how I felt about my boyfriend having written a play about me that’s going to be turned into a movie directed by Sean Penn.

I said I felt great about it, making that statement officially Mia Thermopolis’s Big Fat Lie Number Ten.