Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
She’s probably pregnant and doesn’t know who the father is. #slut. That’s what happens to them all.
She’s ugly anyway. Time for a new sound. She’s old news.
Dumb bitch. I want my money back.
I don’t read anymore. I drop my phone and tears roll down my cheeks. Why the hell did I read that? Now I feel terrible, so much worse than I already felt before. I know people are cruel, I know those comments aren’t true, but they tore me to my core. I have to do something about this. I can’t have a single one of those people believing that I don’t appreciate them.
I rush out of the room and down the hall to where Susan is on the phone at the kitchen table. When she sees me, she ends the call. “What is it?”
“I’m doing a free show. Here. In a few nights.”
She blinks. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No, I’m not. I’m going to open it up to anyone who wants to watch me. They will pay nothing. To say sorry for letting them down when they came to see me.”
“No. Scarlett. That will never happen. There is no way there is somewhere in this city with enough space for that many thousands of people. A free show will cause chaos.”
“Then we’ll do one of those rooftop things, where I’m up high on a building, and everyone can just line the streets and watch.”
“Scarlett. The police will never allow it. No. I’m sorry. There has to be something else.”
Frustration bubbles in my chest. I have to do something for these people, but she’s right, a free show will never work because there will be no way of controlling it and it would get out of hand. There has to be something.
“How many people are attending the second concert?”
“20,000.”
“There has to be something we can do.”
“Not to please that many people.”
“What about doing a free concert, just for them? They can receive a refund, in full, but also use their ticket or some sort of proof that they had a ticket, to enter for another concert.”
She thinks on this. “Your other fans may get upset over this.”
“My other fans watched a whole show. These ones didn’t get the chance. It might allow me to apologies, and it might calm some of them down.”
Susan thinks on it. “It could work, but it could also go very very badly.”
“I can’t just let it go, Susan. I have to do something. I’ve never let my fans down before. I’ll explain it in full at the conference today. And I’ll explain why I’m doing it. Some fans may get angry, some may disown me, but there will be some that will come, and they will appreciate it. It might douse some of the fire.”
She thinks on it some more. “Let me make a few calls, see if we can work it out.”
“Okay.”
“Go and eat, Scarlett. You’ve got a big day ahead.”
Yes.
Indeed, it seems I do.
-10-
SCARLETT
“Thank you for having me today,” I say, standing at a large podium outside of a building, cameras flashing, reporters shoving their microphones at me, security practically sitting on top of me.
I hate doing these things, but I will, for my fans. I’ve never done one for negative press, I’ve only ever done them for promotion, or to talk about a new album. So, the nerves in my stomach are over the top. I’m anxious and wondering what kind of questions I’m going to get asked, and mostly, will I lose it and freeze again? I take a few calming breaths.
“I’ll be taking your questions in a moment, but firstly I’d like to offer my sincere apologies for last night’s show. I’m very sorry to all my fans who missed out on seeing the show, and you will be refunded in full. Yes?” I say, pointing to a reporter on the left.
“What happened on that stage?” she asks.
“I’ve been unwell in the last few weeks, dizzy spells, things like that. It’s nothing at all serious, but exhaustion got the better of me and I found myself extremely lightheaded and nauseous, unsure of where I was.”
“Are you using drugs, Scarlett?” someone else yells.
“I’m sure that’s a question you ask everyone, and I’m sure the answer is always no, however I can assure you I am not a user and I was, simply unwell. We artists are humans too, and being on tour can get exhausting at times.”
“Are you pregnant?” another reporter asks.
“No, sir.” I laugh, trying to keep it light even though my knees are shaking. “I’ve still got a lot more go in me before I think about having babies.”
“Is your medical condition in relation to a previous habit, or perhaps some sort of alcohol addiction?”
I shake my head. “No, I simply was unwell. As I said, I am human too. Exhaustion got the better of me, on top of a lingering flu.”