“Yes, Mr. Beaumont. He works for the Rage Records label and he’s interested in getting your number.” Still I’m not sure whether or not to believe it, but to be fair this is a major name. If it’s the truth then it’s just what I’ve been looking for. Rage Records will be perfect for me… it’s the big break I’ve been waiting for. It’s just a shame that it doesn’t feel right. “Of course, because of our data protection act I can’t give out your information without your permission, so I got his instead.”
I forget all about my stalker for a moment and turn towards my house. I don’t want to push something so potentially massive to one side because I think it might be a trap. I need all the information first.
“I’m just headed inside,” I tell Violet with as much happiness as I can muster in my voice. “I would love to take all the details. It sounds like an incredible opportunity.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” she coos happily. “That’s why I just had to ring you right away.”
Once I get inside and I slam the door shut behind me, clicking the lock as I got, I head straight into the kitchen to grab a piece of paper. Violet reads out the number to me and I scrawl it down. She also tells me everything that was said, which sounds pretty real to me. I’m still not totally convinced but I decide to just go with it for a moment.
Once I hang up the phone I spend a moment breathing deeply, panting almost as I try to collect my thoughts. I want to ring this number, I need to know if the offer from Mr. Beaumont is real or not, and the only way I can do that is by taking the plunge.
Don’t let this paranoia ruin you, I warn myself. This might be my ticket out of here.
Maybe I don’t need to go all the way back to New Zealand, maybe I can escape those men but stay in the US. If I get famous I’ll have people around me all the time, protecting me. I won’t ever need to worry and look over my shoulder again.
Without another thought, I hit the dial button and I pace my kitch
en while I wait. My heart thunders so loudly in my chest that I fear it might burst free at any time. I find my teeth chewing on my bottom lip as anxiety gets the better of me. I’ve never been like this before, I’m usually confident to the point of being arrogant, but now I’m like a shell of my former self. I doubt the people in my life would even recognise now.
“Hello, Mr. Beaumont’s office,” a silky smooth female voice offers. I feel the tight knot loosen in my chest and my shoulders to sag with relief. This seems real. Like, really real. Maybe this is actually happening for me! “How may I help you?”
“My name is Stephen Jones,” I reply with only a little shake in my voice. “I’ve been asked to call this number. I was an artist on the Princess Cruise.”
“Ah okay,” recognition sparks in her voice. “Yes, I know. Mr. Beaumont is very interested in you. He’s actually in a meeting at the moment so I’ll have to get him to call you back if that’s okay?”
“Oh, right that’s fine.”
I can hear the sound of rustling papers in the background. I try to imagine the sleek office that I’m sure this woman is sitting in. All white and silver, very show offy. The music industry is all about appearance. Artists, offices, everything needs to look amazing. That’s why I need to take this chance if it comes my way. Soon enough I’ll be far too old.
“Actually, I know he wants to meet with you face to face so I can set that up if you like?”
My excitement grows, I know this is a good sign. Music moguls don’t bother wasting time on people they don’t give a shit about. “Yes please.”
“Can you do Friday at eleven AM?”
Oh my God, is this real? Is this really happening? I reach my fingers down to pinch my arm, but the sharp radiating pain that greets me reminds me that I am actually awake here. This isn’t a dream at all.
“Sure, sure, sounds good.”
“Wonderful I shall pencil you in.” The thing is she really does sound like she likes the ides of me coming in for a meeting. I must have done better than I thought with my one show on the cruise. How much better I could have done had the damn murder not happened. “I will see you then. Goodbye.”
“Thanks, Violet.” I must be keen, I even remembered her name. “Goodbye.”
By the time, I hang up the phone the second time I feel much more positive about things. This is amazing, a great sign that things are going my way at last. This is exactly what I came to America for and now it looks like it might really be happening. I jump around excitedly for only a moment, celebrating before reality crashes down on me once more.
It makes things crystal clear to me, and actually the one thing that comes out of it the most is the fact that I need to go to the cops about what I saw on the boat. I mean, I already thought that but now I really know it. I just have to find a way to do it anonymously so it doesn’t bring a load of shit my way afterwards. Maybe I couldn’t do anything to save the dead man, but I can let his family know what happened to him and I can try to prevent it from happening to anyone else. Including me.
I want to go into my dream with a clear, focused head. I want to be able to enjoy it. I don’t want to be worrying about criminals coming after me. I need to put an end to this once and for all.
I glance at myself on the small mirror that I have on my wall, allowing a smile to spread across my lips. Maybe I do look tired and more drawn than usual, but that’ll change when I put all this behind me and I get my mojo back. I’ll be back to my handsome self soon enough. I will get back to Stephen Jones and then I can finally start living the dream.
Chapter Nine - Tia
They’re all living the God damn dream. All of them, it really isn’t fair. As I scroll through Facebook, taking a break from my writing that really isn’t happening, my heart sinks lower into my chest. Diana has been positing some incredible looking pictures of Cambodia and Tokyo, Helen has already been promoted, and by the looks of it Alexa is doing amazingly with her wedding planning. It’s only me stuck in my teenage bedroom, ignoring the one piece of writing that I’ve done since college, getting nowhere with my plan to move out at all.
At this rate, I’ll be here forever.
‘He’s there, standing in front of me, the man I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with. Or if not love, then lust. With his hot, muscular body nearing mine, my heart leaps and dances about in my chest. There’s a fire in the pit of my stomach, a burning that races all the way down to my center. If I don’t have him soon then I might just die.’