My feet pound the pavement, left, right, left, right, as I make my way through the turnstiles. The suns rays bounce off the silver panels of Spaceship Earth, and I know that I am in Epcot. I maneuver through the crowds of tourists, left, right, left, right, past the lake to my destination -- The UK Pavilion in World Showcase. The sweet aroma of blueberry scones wafts toward me as I near the Rose and Crown Dining Hall for my 2 o’clock tea. Just as I round the corner, I hear a mysterious ringing, briiiinng briiiinng. My head turns back and forth, and my eyes land on a red phone booth. Briiiinng briiiinng. Should I answer it? No… The ringing must be in my head, but my curiosity gets the best of me. I step toward the booth, my hand finding the chipped handle. The phone sounds again, briiinng briiinng. My heartbeat quickens as my sweaty palm curves around the shiny black receiver.  Static fills the booth as my trembling hand brings the phone to my ear. The static is quickly replaced by the faint sound of drums. As I listen more intently to what I believe to be music, I can make out the words “crazy for you” in the background. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the thought of Ross Lynch on the other line. Could it be? 
I snap back to reality when I notice the male voice talking to me. How long was I daydreaming, I think. “Hello… hello, you there?” the voice exclaims.  I manage to squeak out some version of hello, so the mystery man knows I exist. I am instructed to meet him on the hang glider across the park. I sprint across the park as fast as my feet can carry me, dodging strollers, families and the occasional scooter. Catching my breath, I enter the Land Pavilion, home of Soaring. I spot the neon sign and make my way down the escalator, into the ride queue. Patrick Warburton’s voice booms through the speakers explaining safety rules for the flight. My feet carry me through the door, my eyes scanning for blondes. I find my assigned seat, safely securing my backpack under my seat and pulling my seat belt over my waist. As I reach for the yellow tab to tug, ensuring my seat belt is securely fastened, my hand brushes the person next to me.  My eyes fall to the ground, where I see the black converse, the pink socks, the baseball t-shirt, and lastly bleach blonde hair. I’d know him anywhere. The guy shifts in his seat, and I catch a whiff of his cologne. The guy sitting next to me is Ross Lynch. My heart begins to race; my hands begin to sweat.
His eyes meet mine as he says, “I’m so psyched you made it.”
Nervously, I manage to whisper, “ Were you the one on the phone?”
“Maybe…” he smiled, giving me a wink. Then, just like that, the ride begins. We are lifted 30 feet into the air. I am now soaring in the sky with my favorite human on the planet.