Chapter 1
Hadley
Every time I giggle like this I wonder if those around me can tell it’s fake, forced. But the thought doesn’t leak out onto my face, nope! I keep the smile plastered on and my light brown eyes wide and bright as though I’m having the time of my life being interviewed for the fiftieth time today. I know I should be happy to be doing this, and I honestly am but I’m also insanely exhausted and images of my big ass California-King bed dances in my mind. I want to curl up in my soft fluffy blankets and sleep for at least a week.
Finally, the interviewer stands from her chair and extends her hand towards me. She thanks me for my time as she shakes it and then we get the ‘all clear’ that the cameras are off and we can leave the makeshift little set that had been set-up so people could do interviews with me about my upcoming world tour. My personal assistant and best friend Clara Miller comes bounding up to me with a wide smile on her face. “You did great Hadley!” She exclaims as she twists her dark brown hair up into a bun.
Dropping my arm around her shoulders I roll my eyes but there’s just something infectious about her smile that I end up smiling back at her. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here. I just wanna go home and sleep for a year!” Nodding her agreement Clara leads me out a side door and a sleek black Escalade. As soon as our doors are shut the driver begins drive us back to our house.
I bought the penthouse for the two of us when my first album went platinum. Clara and I had been best friends since the first day of kindergarten when we each noticed the other had a unique bright blue streak through our right eye. We’ve always been there for each other and actually tell people that we’re sisters. I had promised her that if I ever made it big with my dream of being a famous singer that I would buy a fancy place like the one we now own.
The driver pulls into the private parking garage and Clara, and I climb out. We make our way to the elevator that will take us to the top floor. After walking into our home, I make my way into the kitchen to make myself a cup of hot chocolate. New York City is beautiful in the fall but can be chilly, the bright light of the sun bouncing of the buildings quite deceiving. I hear the chime of the doorbell but Clara shouts that she’ll get it so I continue fiddling with my fancy coffee machine that also makes the hot chocolate and pour water into it.
Hearing her enter the kitchen I look over at Clara, “who was at the door?” Instead of answering me, she lifts a large bag and sits it on the island. “The receptionist dropped them off and for like the thousandth time suggested you get a P.O. box set up so that fan mail isn’t delivered here anymore.”
Rolling my eyes I sigh. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told the staff that I do have one set up, but the fans are smart and still manage to find my home address somehow.” Clara shrugs in response and flops her tiny frame onto one of the barstools situated next to the island. She eyes me as I stir my cup of cocoa, and I arch an eyebrow. “Would you like me to make you a cup?” She nods her head vigorously and I laugh. “On one condition,” I start, and she sits up straighter. “Help me go through these letters?”
Smiling widely Clara laughs out, “well shit. I can agree to that especially since I was already planning to help you go through them anyway!” I had already figured she was planning to help me but no reason not to entice her to do so, right?
Being my personal assistant Clara kindly reminded me to make sure I went ‘live’ before starting to go through the fan mail. Now with three million fans watching I get closer to the end of the pile of letters. For the most part I open and read the letters while Clara keeps an eye on the comments of my live feed. “Stalk_H_A2002 says you haven opened his letter yet.” My best reads the comment quirking her eyebrows and tilting her head to look at me from where she’s holding my phone.
Laughing I look over the five or six letters that have yet to be opened. “Uh, okay. Which one’s yours ‘Stalk_H_A2002’? Nice name by the way.” I look into the camera with a grin and wait for the person to comment their answer as I hold my hand over the near identical envelopes before me.
Nodding to her left, my right Clara reads the comment, “to your right, the person says it’s the one with the hand drawn orchids on it.” Something flitters in my stomach because only two people in the entire world know that orchids are my favorite flower, Clara and my father. Pushing the odd sensation down I pick up the envelope but decide not to say anything about the very detailed flower drawing.
Hurriedly I tear the envelope open and pull out the paper that was stuck inside it. It was folded in half so that it would fit properly so I unfolded it to read the handwritten note. A few pictures fell out, but I don’t look at them just yet because I want to read what the fan wrote.
~Roses are red violets are blue blood will spread; it will come from you!!~
I make a face scrunching my nose up as I do. “Um, thanks. That’s a very unique spin on a classic poem.” I look up from the letter and see Clara mouthing something. -Look at the pictures- I had honestly forgotten that there were pictures with the strange note. I lift one up and my hand starts to shake. Glancing back at Clara I whisper for her to shut the phone off. She doesn’t hesitate and closes the app immediately and then tosses it aside.
Quickly she moves from in front of the island to behind me to look over my shoulder at the picture in my hand. “What the fuck?” She hisses out. “That’s fucked up? Should we call the police?” Clara questions as she rips the picture out of my hand. My eyes fall to the counter where three more of almost identical images lay.
Shaking my head I grab my phone and dial my dad’s number as I stare at the photo I just picked up. Someone has photo shopped my face onto a girl’s body that lays sprawled out on a floor with a chord wrapped around her neck and a knife protruding from in between her breasts.
It looks so fucking real! A sob breaks free from my mouth as my phone rings. I can’t keep from staring at all the blood pooled around the lifeless body. The vacant look in the girl’s eyes. “Dad?” I question as soon as I hear him say hello. “Dad. I got something you need to see. Yeah, I’ll send photos. But can you come over? I’m a-a little scared.” Saying he’d see me in roughly ten minutes I disconnect the line and walk into my living room. I flop down on the couch and watch Clara walk. She flops down next to me and takes my hand in hers giving it a squeeze.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” she says turning to look at my face. “I’m sure it’s just some asshole being a creep...” I nod in agreement but stare out the window unseeing. Clara is probably right, it’s nothing. Yet I can’t keep the shiver from rolling over my body.
