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I looked down at the way my hips rolled as I sat in the car, my dress bunching around them. He was right. How did I ever think I looked good?
‘Come on,’ he said as the chauffeur pulled the door open to a cacophony of screams.
Tommy stopped to take my hand tenderly and help me from the vehicle, a sweet, attentive smile playing on his handsome face. He slipped a hand around my waist as we made our way through the sea of flashing cameras and wild teenaged squeals.
It was a lot.
It was always a lot.
My upbringing had come with vast wealth, and a heavy dose of pain, but it had come with little fame. It was a whole new beast that I didn’t thrive under. Tommy’s body thrummed with the excitement of his fans’ obsession. Being the lead singer and guitarist put him forefront in the band, the guy that girls would kill to just touch. It was a head rush, at first, knowing that I had the man so many others wanted. That he chose me. But with his cruelty becoming more common, and his desire for me clearly waning, I doubted my position beside him.
As we neared the end of the red carpet, he swung me around to pose for the photographers. I lost my breath when he looked at me with all the charm and desire that I missed. He brought a hand up to my chin, tipping my lips up to claim a sweet kiss as the surrounding screams intensified. I crumbled into him, closing my eyes and breathing in the moment.
‘Tommy! Tommy!’ The press shouted, practically climbing over one another for a chance to talk to him. To get a quote from the rockstar himself.
He picked out a female reporter and set his charming smile on her. ‘Yes?’
‘Tommy, how does it feel to hear that the new album is set to reach number one on release?’
Tommy rested a hand on my hip as he replied, fielding a handful of questions in his easy manner. I cringed as his hand toyed with my fat, conscious of the way my dress clung there after his remarks. I fazed out the questions and focused on trying to keep a sweet smile plastered on my face, and then that familiar feeling crept back into me. That feeling of eyes on me.
Don’t be ridiculous, I chided myself; you are standing next to the star, all eyes are on you.
It was a distinct sensation, though. The hairs on my arms raised as I scanned the crowd, nothing but face after face of fans desperate to be noticed by Tommy.
There were a myriad of security and venue staff, hundreds of flashing mobile phones.
Nothing untoward.
Stop it.
You’re being crazy.
Then I spotted him through the crowd.
And I knew. Knew he was my watcher.
He dressed entirely in black, a creepy skull mask covering everything, including his eyes. A jolt of terror made my knees tremble.
Who the fuck was he, and why was he watching me?
He stood across the busy street, at the junction between two sets of lights, leaning casually against the corner of a building.
I looked at Tommy, trying to get his attention, but he focused on the reporters.
When I looked back up, the masked man had disappeared.
A full body shiver took over as I tried to tell myself he was just some guy dressed up for something who stopped to watch the celebrity spectacle.
Laughter erupted around me as Tommy stiffened at my side. I focused in on my immediate surroundings as Tommy’s quiet fury enveloped me.
‘She didn’t seem ready for that,’ the female reported said with a chuckle.
Tommy tried to laugh off whatever had happened, but his fingers gripped painfully into my side. ‘I think that was a shiver of excitement, right, babe?’
They had never asked me to speak on the red carpet before, and my voice came out a squeaky mess that made Tommy frown.
‘Yeah totally.’
