Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
The moment I stepped inside the store, I felt eyes on me. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but the second I knew I was being watched, my body strung tighter than a bow. With my cart as a barrier, I kept my sunglasses on and tried to shop in peace. People whispered to each other as I passed and those whispers had me on edge.
I mean, c’mon. Was it worth it? All I needed was bread and milk.
When young girls began to follow me, my heart rate increased. And then it wasn’t just the young fans. Almost every person in the store became curious about who the crowd were following and joined ranks. It didn’t take long before one person approached and kindly asked, “Miss Violet, can I get a selfie?”
The young man said this so politely that I bit down my anxiousness and responded, “Sure.”
Oh my.
What was the saying? Famous last words.
The first picture was harmless enough and when a woman asked, all I could think to reply was, “I really need to get home.”
It was funny, really. For people who were yelling out how much they loved me, how quickly they turned on me.
The woman turned on her phone camera and walked towards me, “Oh, please. My daughter will never believe it.”
Taking a step back, I tried again. “Not today. Thank you.”
Gripping my cart, the woman walked closer to me and said, “It’ll be quick,” then snapped her phone in my face before I could say boo.
My heart beat out of my chest. I was mad. “I said no.”
A moment of thick silence went by before one man muttered, “That’s not nice.”
Another said, “It’s just a photo.”
The woman holding up her phone looked shocked. I expected an apology. What I got was a hard stare and a single word. “Bitch.”
My stomach coiled. More so when I noticed the crowd of twentyish people frowning at me as if I had done something wrong.
Had I done something wrong?
I didn’t think so but they were mad at me so I must have done something wrong, right?
I couldn’t think. I needed to get out of there.
Head down, I wheeled my cart to the checkout and loaded my items onto the conveyor belt. I didn’t notice the mob of people following me until one person spoke from behind. “You know, you’re only famous because of people like us. You owe us. The least you could do was take photos with your fans. We deserve to be acknowledged.”
It was the woman with the phone. The crowd murmured in agreement.
I didn’t make eye contact. “I’m a person. A human being.”
The same woman responded, “No. You’re public property. We own you.”
I was anxious before but the foreboding way she said this made me jump from nervous to terrified. My voice shook as I pleaded, “Please leave me alone.”
The woman’s caustic laughter had my insides turning. I paid for my groceries and walked back to my car, begging myself to hold it together. But I knew I was being followed. With shaking hands, I unlocked the car and threw the groceries in, making sure to lock it behind me.
When I turned on the car and looked up, my heart stuttered.
The woman was standing in front of the car, holding up her phone and she was recording me while ranting, “No photos, huh? What are you gonna do about it, Miss Violet? Who’s going to stop me? You? I don’t think so.” Her laughter became more and more deranged. “You know what the problem with celebrities is? They don’t care who they offended or hurt. Well, guess what? I’m not taking it anymore. You want to live in L.A. and expect people to not to approach you? Dream on, honey.”
I didn’t know what to do. With a car parked behind me and this obviously unstable woman in front of me, I was trapped.
The more she ranted, the more her words pierced me. “Who do you think you are? You think you’re special? You’re just another fat-lipped, big-tittied nobody!”
She had no idea how those words affected me and in the back of my mind, I wanted to respond, “I know.”
“In ten years, you’re just going to be another washed-up superstar, wasted on booze and reminiscing about the time you were famous.”
I know.
The bridge of my nose tingled. My eye blurred with unshed tears. “Please move.”
“Mark my words, honey. You think you’re irreplaceable? Just you wait. One day, that Connor Clash of yours is going to come home later and later until he just doesn’t come home anymore.”
Oh my God, please. Stop.
She was hitting my every last nerve. It was as though she had dug into the box in my mind marked ‘Emmy’s insecurities’ and was using them all against me, throwing them at me one-by-one.
Tears trailed my cheeks and as I begged one last time, my voice shook. “Get out of the way.”