Natalie Portman

"Natalie... Natalie Portman," You respond, the name coming to you as you remember her staring at you from across the red carpet. You brace yourself for the guard's and their response, yet you watch them shrink back slightly, sharing a look with each other; a look of uncertainty.

"Really? You're certainly her type... Bitch would never offer shit to us. What you dressed like that for?" the first one asked, confused as he grabbed the hem of the loose fitting shirt you had slung over your t-shirt.

"I'm... Uh... Changing inside..." you respond, not sure what they were talking about. Luckily for you, that seemed to satiate their inquiry and they moved aside, allowing you through the door.

"Shame that. I always enjoyed watching her old P.A. come strutting through already dressed," the second one laughed as the door swung closed behind you, leaving you alone, but finally inside the building, ready and eager to explore.

You find yourself in a long corridor. Wandering along, you take a right towards what appears to be a back-stage area for various celebrities that are involved in the presentation aspect of the evening. You are intrigued by the security guards comments regarding Natalie Portman, making you think that it may be worthwhile having a look in her dressing room, if possible. That was until you heard the sounds of laboured breathing in a room to your right, marked 'Trophy Room'. Even more curiously, the door right next to it is left ajar.