The limousine pulls up in front of Roseville Music Industry. I look out the window and saw the many news channels that came to see me.
I sigh. "Time to face the music...the irony,”
I mean, don't get me wrong, I love what I do. Singing, it's awesome. It's my talent and I love doing it. Along with playing the guitar, those two things are what I love to do. But, sometimes the media is too much sometimes. I sometimes just wish that I could go back to my old life, with my family.
I step out after my guards signal. Immediately, the reporters bombard me with yells and questions. I could already imagine the newspaper heading tomorrow. “Tiffany St. James Arrives to Roseville,” “Roseville Welcomes Tiffany” or “Tiffany St. James Here for Vacation or Business?”
"Miss Tiffany!" One reporter yells.
"Miss James!" Another shouts, “Could you answer
"Over here Miss!" Yells another, “We want to-"
There are also the screams of fans, as they had waited the whole morning for me to arrive. I go around signing books, CDs, and countless other things for the fans.
My guards guide me through and push the media away. I turn around to catch one man staring at me intently. He was extremely handsome and looked very young. He had green eyes that seem to move with too much purpose and precision. He didn't say anything or do anything in particular, but for some reason he caught my attention.
He wasn’t pushing through the crowds like the reporters, and he wasn’t attempting to take pictures like the photographers stationed there. He was kind of just there.
"He's a spy. Just like me," I decide. Just as fast as I saw him, he disappears.
I look around me carefully hoping to see him again.
“Miss?” one of my guards quietly asks. “Did you see anything suspicious?”
“No,” I reply softly. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”
The guard stares at me for a few more seconds before looking
away. He was one of the newer guards, and he was young. He didn’t know me as well as the other guards-as well as they knew me anyways, seeing as they didn’t even know my real name.
Silence envelops us as we enter the building. A woman from
behind a desk stands up and walks towards me. She has red hair, which is in a ponytail, her skin was olive colored and her face seemed void of any type of makeup.
“Miss James,” she starts. “I’m Alexandra; I’m the one who
requested for you to come. We’ve been eagerly waiting for you to arrive.”
“My apologies for the long wait, Miss Alexandra,” I reply,
allowing my voice to take a slight British accent. “You know how the media and the fans are. I adore the fans-I wish I could say the same about the media.”
Alexandra laughs. “Well how polite you are. Let’s go to my
office, we’ll have privacy there.”
She turns and heads towards an elevator behind the desk she was sitting at previously. We enter the elevator that was waiting there. I stand quietly as Alexandra presses the button for the top floor.
“Okay Tiffany. You’ve heard the whole deal.” Alexandra states. “Now, are you going to accept?”
“Yes,” I don’t hesitate. “I accept the deal.”
“Good, now sign here.” She hands me a pen.
I sign on the line, after checking to see if there was any small print.
“Now if you excuse me, I must go.” I state. “There is a concert in New York City I have to host.”
I stand and shake the hand of Alexandra.
“Before you go, Tiffany, would you mind signing something
for my niece? She’s a big fan of yours.”
“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” I reply politely.
Alexandra turns around in her huge chair and rummages for something in her bag. As she does this, I press my finger against the underside of her desk, successfully managing to place a bug there.
“Here,” she says after turning around.
“What’s her name?”
“Her name is Amanda.”
She hands me a book.
Live each day to its fullest and be brave
Tiffany St. James”
I hand the book back, which now held the swoopy handwriting I worked hard to master.
The elevator plays its annoying “elevator music” as it makes its way up to the fifth floor. The doors smoothly slide open and I step out into the long hallway.
The doors sail past me as I quickly walk towards the door that read 5B-which was near the end of the long hall. The keycard swipes swiftly and the light flashes green. The door makes a soft thud as it closes behind me.
I reach to my head, feeling my “hair” shift on my head. I’m about to take it off when I hear a noise.
I immediately go into defensive mode. “Who’s there?”
“Relax,” says a deep voice in front of me.
My hand finds the light switch against the wall. I squint at
the bright light.
It takes everything in me not to show him the shock I felt upon seeing him sitting in a chair.
“Who are you?” I ask, playing dumb; my voice void of the awe I was feeling.
“Me,” he replies in the same tone.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Leave.”
“No,” he says, leaning back in the chair.
I glare at him.
“I’m not leaving,” he said. He throws his feet on the table in front of him.
“I’ll scream,” I threaten.
He laughs. “The room is soundproof, Tiffany.” My fake name drips with mockery.
I quietly move towards the desk near the doorway. I never turn away from him, even as one hand rummages through the drawer.
My heart drops as I realize the drawer is empty.
“Looking for this?” he asks, twirling a small handgun in his
“What do you want?”
“Cammie, you know-“
“My name isn’t Cammie-”
“Yes it is,” he deadpans. “Don’t be stubborn Chameleon. It
took us a while to find you, Cammie. But we found you.”
I say nothing, still glaring at him.
“I’m not going back.” I finally said, looking him directly into his green eyes.
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