As we drove down Mulholland Drive to the theatre, we realized that we didn’t have any kind of ticket or credentials to gain access to the blocked-off street the theatre was located on. We started to second-guess ourselves. What if we couldn’t get into the premiere? Kevin, one of Ben’s friends who has been Rihanna’s keyboardist for the past four years, told us not to be distressed and that everything would be fine (and I credit him completely for everything turning out as swimmingly as it did). We pulled up to the blocked-off street, and Kevin jumped out of the limo to talk to the security, telling him that we were the featured band and that our credentials were up front. Security waved us through, and our limo deposited us at the mouth of the red carpet.
[You can hear someone saying “That must be a band…” Haha]
As you can see from the video, we’re all a little in shock and not exactly sure how we should proceed. I can’t speak for everyone, but for me, panic took hold almost the instant we stepped onto the red carpet (which was actually black). My animal instincts told me to make a beeline for the theatre door as fast and inconspicuously as possible. We all started to walk, unknowingly, in front of Sigourney Weaver as the paparazzi were snapping photos of her, and they erupted in vitriol. “GET OUT OF THE WAY!” they screamed. “I’M TRYING TO DO MY JOB HERE! WHO ARE YOU?! MOVE IT ALONG, B-LISTER!” I don’t think I can convey in digital symbols how terrifying and angry they were. But they thought we were B-listers!
Once we got up to the credentials table, we discovered that we weren’t actually supposed to walk on the carpet. Oops. #redcarpetcrashers2011
Free popcorn and soda!
Good Lord, there were some serious celebrities present. Not only did I commit a major faux pas by walking five feet in front of the saintly Sigourney, but I also brushed shoulders with Selena Gomez at the popcorn counter. She was one of the smallest girls I’ve ever seen in real life: her legs were like toothpicks. Girls kept coming up to her and posing with her for pictures, and though Selena would pause briefly and give an obliging half-smile, you could tell that she didn’t want to be bothered. She just wanted to go back to her seat and watch a movie with her boyfriend (that’s right, Bieber was there) like the teenager she is.
Ben and Nate with John Singleton
The hand that shook Bieber’s hand. Ben’s never washing it again.
On deck for tomorrow: the conclusion of our story, in which we attend the after party, meet Taylor Lautner, and walk the streets of Hollywood barefoot in search of a hot dog at 2 in the morning.