FanGirl

by Lawson, Angel

  We’re both standing now, inches apart, vibrating with anger. He rubs his hands over his face and into his mangled hair. He lets out a sigh and says, “Before we met, the only thing I knew about you was what I’d seen in the fan video. You were brilliant. Vulnerable and tough. Exactly how I had envisioned Alexandra. And then I met you at FantasyCon and you were so much more. Shy and funny. Lost but determined.” He pauses and pushes a stray hair out of my eyes. “A fighter. Everything.”

  “What?” The word comes out in a strangled whisper.

  “I wanted all of that in my life — in my movie. So yeah, I pushed you because I wanted you as Alexandra. But now, I don’t know. I’ve realized you’re so much more than Iris’ shadow or Andrew’s beard of the week. More than Alexandra.” With his jaw clenched tight, he walks over to the table and picks up Issue 4. The manuscript quivers in his hand. His eyes meet mine and he says, “Just like Alex proves she’s more than Wyatt and the circumstances forced into her life because of the apocalypse.”

  What do I do? Where did that come from? The implications behind his words are too much. So I bail. Bolt. Run. I push past him and his stupid, sucky book and haul ass out the door. He calls my name, and I ignore it, running on shaky legs down the stairs, my palms slick from nerves. In one day, my best friend broke my trust, my fake boyfriend is still my fake boyfriend, and Gabe has managed to ruin the best part of my life while managing to confuse the hell out of me. It’s more than a girl can take.

  g

  I’m trying to decide between a candy bar and a package of cupcakes. Both look good. I mean, cupcakes are awesome, but nothing beats a candy bar. Under the harsh buzzing fluorescent lights at the Mini-Market, I realize I’m one step from a Britney-style paparazzi moment. This must be what happened to her, I consider, picking up a bag of chips and the cupcakes. One minute she was a normal girl, doing her job, and the next she’s in her pajamas at the gas station buying junk food, showing her hoo-ha to the masses. I reach to the top of my head to make sure my hair is still there.

  Whew.

  Lucky for me, I’m not a super-famous singer/actress/celebrity, and no one cares I’ve hit rock bottom. And no one includes the guy at the counter, who happens to be reading a magazine with my face in a tiny box in the top right corner.

  I pay and gather my handful of junk food, leaving the store with a jingle of the bells over the door and run right into Reid. Smack.

  “Watch it,” I say, trying to keep my chocolate milk from hitting the pavement.

  He eyes the food in my hand and gives my outfit a judgmental glance. “This looks healthy.”

  “Shut it.” I try to skirt around him, but he holds his position firm. “What now?”

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” He looks around and grabs a package out of my arms. “He’s not into late night trips to the Mini-Market? I can’t see him eating a pack of cupcakes. Might mess up his fat-to-muscle ratio.”

  “I don’t have time for this. Why do you even care? Jealous?”

  “Of what? You turning Zocopalypse into a joke? Too late.”

  “Maybe. Has to hurt that not only am I working on the film, but Taylor Lyn’s also schlepping around the set. I see you two aren’t as close anymore.”

  His face darkens when I mention her and I feel a twinge of guilt. It sucks to be the one left behind for better, blonder things. I can relate. He narrows his eyes and says, “What’s going on, anyway? You look like you’ve been crying. You’re wearing your glasses, too. Lately it’s been those creepy contacts.”

  “I’m just tired. It’s not a big deal.” I push around him and start for my car. “And, what do you mean lately? Stop stalking me, freak.”

  “Come on. Tell me what’s got your panties all in a twist. I’m not the enemy, you know.”

  “No?” I eye him, skeptical. “Whatever, the movie is great — so are the people.”

  “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Iris and I got into a fight. Then, you know how much I get into the novels, I’m stressing about the new issue and I can’t talk to her about it.” I clamp my hand over my mouth.

  “The next issue? It doesn’t come out until next year.”

  “No, but it’s being written right now.” I bite my lip. “Ignore me. I’m being weird.”

  “You’re always being weird, that’s no surprise, but you and Iris fighting? That’s new. Why?”

  I lean back on the side of the car. “The website.”

  “Oh.” He laughs. “I’ve seen the celebrity stuff she’s been posting. I can imagine you aren’t a fan of the change.”

  “We haven’t had much choice. That ZWankHard site has been slamming me left and right. We had to do something to defend the movie.”

  “Yeah, they’re harsh. Although people should protect their scripts better.”

  “They’re all accounted for. There’s not much you can do when someone on the inside attempts to destroy you.”

  “You can’t be surprised. Fandoms always get touchy during franchise expansion. Did you expect something different?”

  “Well, be glad your website has stayed clean of all this. You may end up being the only one standing when all this ends.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, right. Like Iris will ever let go of Z.net.”

  “She might if I make her.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “I would and I could and before this is over, I may. My friendship with Iris is worth more than this stupid movie or even the website.”

  He nods and the air stills between us. It’s weird talking to Reid like this. Normal. Even more normal than before we broke up. Back then, everything was zombies and comics, with the occasional break for making out.

  “Go talk to her. It’ll make it better, I promise.”

  I laugh. “How do you know?”

  “We’re talking, and look — better.” He smiles and I see a glimpse of the boy I once loved.

  “Maybe we should have done this a long time ago.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe,” I narrow my eyes, “you shouldn’t have kissed Taylor Lyn.”

  He pushes a piece of hair out of my face. “Ah, well, I can’t take that back now, can I?”

  “I suppose not.” I open my car door and toss my snacks on the seat. I’m about to step inside when I stop myself. “Can I ask you one more thing?” I wince.

  “What?” His hand is on the door.

  “Am I… am I a horrible kisser or anything? Was it bad? Is that why you dumped me?”

  He smiles and then laughs and gives me the craziest expression. “No. No, that was not the problem at all. Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t know. I’m being dumb.”

  “Goodnight, Ruby.”

  g

  [1] A psychological horror novel by Stephen King where an author is kidnapped by a deranged fan.

  Chapter 15

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  ZWankHard

  @Ruby Miller seen out last night! Where was Andrew Xavier?

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  ZWankHard

  @Spotted! In her pajamas! Ruby Miller sneaks around town.

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  ZWankHard

  @Whose home did Ruby Miller sneak in and out of last night? Come read our latest post!

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  Z.net

  @Exclusive pictures from the Zocopalypse set! Cast interviews and more!

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  AlexkicksZass

  #1 the ability to wipe my brain and start over again.

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .

  g

  Wyatt and Alexandra fight on the front porch of a large, historic home. The house is beautiful, but hollow and empty.

  Alexandra: I know why Cole wants to go so badly, but why you? Why are you so ready to get to that Army base? What happens if we get down there and find more of the same? What if it’s like Raleigh or Charlotte or any other place left on the planet? Dead.

  Wyatt: I want to see it myself.

  Alexandra: Bull! If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that there’s always a reason. What is it? Why are we following Cole on an impossible mission?

  Wyatt: Don’t push this, Alex.

  Alexandra: Why? Why can’t I push? You guys tell me what to do, when to do it, where we’re going and, for the most part, I agree. You’re hiding something from me, and I want to know what it is.

  Wyatt stands in front of Alexandra, his anger evident. She doesn’t back away, but she’s scared of him. He sees this and attempts to calm himself.

  Wyatt: We’re leaving at dawn.

  He turns and walks into the house. Alexandra stays outside. With the world at a standstill, the silence is deafening. She jumps when she hears the backdoor open. Cole steps out of the house.

  Alexandra: I know. Leaving at dawn. I have my orders.

  Cole: It seems like that sometimes, I guess.

  Alexandra: What?

  Cole: Like we’re in a war. Everything is a battle.

  Alexandra: Fighting for our lives, scared all the time. Killing and saving and running. Yeah, feels like war.

  Cole: In every Army, there has to be a leader. I’m willing to step aside and let him take this right now.

  She looks at him like he’s crazy.

  Alexandra: Step aside? This is your idea, going down there. You came up with it.

  Cole: No. He suggested it. I agreed. There’s something in Columbus Wyatt needs even more than I do.

  Alexandra: Do you know what it is?

  Cole: No. But we all came into this battle with a history. He’s looking for something, and it doesn’t have anything to do with any of us.

  g

  I pick up my phone and start to call Iris. Then I remember we aren’t talking and put it down. I pick it up. Put it down.

  “You look like me,” Andrew says. He slips an arm over my shoulder. I don’t have supersonic hearing, but it’s like I can hear the shutters clicking on a million cameras whether they’re there or not.

  “What? The obsessive phone thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not quite the addict you are.” I shove the phone in my pocket. “We may have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?” Andrew catches his reflection in the makeup mirror.

  “Someone caught me coming out of Gabe’s apartment in my pajamas last night and sent the info to ZWankHard.” This gets his attention.

  “What the hell, Ruby?”

  “I also may have been seen, again in my pajamas, at the Mini-Market on Clairmont with my ex-boyfriend, Reid.”

  “What?”

  I have nothing else to say. No defense. No excuses. His phone rings and, when I don’t reply, he answers it.

  “Hey,” he says into the phone. I should leave — give him some privacy, but I don’t. I have a feeling I know who’s on the other end of the line. “Yeah, she just told me. Why? I don’t know. That, she hasn’t explained yet. How damaging is it? Yes, yes, I know she was in her pajamas. Can you make it go away?” He’s staring at me and frankly, the intensity of Andrew Xavier’s blue eyes is too much to handle, so I look away. I’ve made a mess of everything. “Yeah, we’ll fix it.”

  “Derek’s pissed?”

  He shrugs. “A little. You know Derek, he’s a believer in ‘no press is bad press.’ Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not working on an ‘Andrew Xavier - Broken Hearted’ rebound story for the press as we speak.” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “He never stops. It’s why he’s the best, but sometimes it can be exhausting.”

  “Well, what does he want us to do? I’ll do whatever you need me to. Anything.”

  “Glad you feel that way, because you and I have a date.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Tonight.”

  g

  Chloe and Alexandra have been paired to drive the second truck together, while Wyatt drives the front truck and Cole sits in the back, shotgun ready.

  Alexandra: What do you think about this plan?

  Chloe: I think those two men are determined to go through with this crazy idea. If we’re riding with them, we better be ready. My brother has some strange desire to see what’s left of the military. He’s hoping all the bullshit our dad told us when we were kids is true.

  Alexandra: We don’t have to let them make decisions for us. We have a vote.

  Chloe: You really think that? Wyatt is half-rogue already. If he didn’t need us for back up, he would be long gone.

  Alexandra: Why would you say that? Wyatt’s not going anywhere.

  Chloe: [Laughs] If you say so. I think you could chase that one across the country, fighting thousands of the dead, but in the end, I’m not sure his heart is available.

  Alexandra: I don’t want his heart.

  Chloe: Could’ve fooled me… and my brother.

  Alexandra: I don’t know why we’re talking about this. The odds of us surviving the next 24 hours are next to nothing. Love? Hearts? None of this is relevant.

  Chloe: Because that’s how we know who to trust and follow. Wyatt is not in this for the rest of us. He’s in this for himself and whatever he’s searching for. Me? I want a warm shower and a safe place to sleep at night. Cole? His mind better be where it needs to be — that’s all I’m saying.

  Alexandra: And what about me?

  Chloe: You? That’s a decision you need to make. Are you here to survive or here to follow a man you can never catch?

  g

  That night, a package waits for me on my side porch. Inside, I find the sexiest dress I have ever seen. Black straps tie behind my neck, but the neckline is low — plunging. I’m not sure how to keep everything inside. The hem barely covers my behind when I sit. No bending. Ever. I also discover an outrageously expensive pair of shoes. Heels, of course, sliver platforms with straps that wind all the way up my ankles. The whole outfit is over the top and borderline trashy. I have a feeling I know who bought it and it wasn’t Andrew, not directly at least. This has Derek’s style written all over it. I thank God my parents are still out of town. I don’t have to explain anything. Now, that is. I have a feeling that by tomorrow, the shiz will hit the fan.

  “You look gorgeous,” Andrew says. I hold onto his arm for fear of tipping over in these shoes. I adjust my top, making sure everything is inside the minimal amount of fabric. I scan the streets for paparazzi. I can’t see any, but that means nothing. Once seated in the car, I tug on the hem of my dress, willing it to stretch farther down my legs. I’m sure at least one photographer will get a money shot tonight. Good thing coordinating underwear came in that package. If I flash my hoo-ha at everyone, at least everything matches.

  “Thanks. What’s the plan?” He merges onto the highway, driving toward the city. He tosses something in my lap. It’s an invitation.

  “A friend has a new restaurant and club. I thought we’d make an appearance.”

  “Oh.” I read the invite. The place looks swank. “I didn’t even realize places like this existed in Atlanta.”

  He laughs and rolls to a stop. “There’s always somewhere to be seen. This had to work on such short notice.”

  The valet opens my door and Andrew arrives at my side before I can take a step. His arm hangs tight across my back, a hand on my waist as the cameras begin to snap. Just before we reach the door, he leans into my ear and says, “Tonight’s our night. We have to make it happen or we cut this whole thing loose. Follow my lead.” I feel his lips brush my ear and although it tickles enough to bring a smile to my lips, my belly lies q
uiet and calm. I never thought I’d see the day when I’m immune to Andrew Xavier’s charms.

  Inside, a man whisks us through an elegant, crowded restaurant. As we pass patrons, Andrew turns heads, of course. Even if they don’t recognize him, he’s so handsome people stare. Their eyes glide past me. I’m relieved when we leave the main room and pass through a heavy wooden door and up a flight of stairs.

  “Do you know where he’s taking us?” I ask. We enter a small, even more sophisticated room. Ahhh, the VIP room. I never anticipated seeing such a place, much less being invited into one.

  “Relax,” Andrew says, but I cling to his arm. We’re escorted to a corner of sleek leather couches. Andrew gestures for me to sit and begins ordering drinks from an eager waitress.

  “I can’t drink in here. I don’t have an ID.” I’m whispering even though the loud music gives us a sense of privacy. A moment later, our waitress returns with our drinks and sets them on the low table in front of us.

  “Welcome to a taste of my world,” Andrew says, raising his glass. He swallows his drink whole. Uh oh. I recall the last time he drank too much too fast. It’s how I ended up in this circus in the first place. “This is a minor representation of what it’s like in New York or L.A. A perfect place to get your toes wet. Someday, I’ll take you to the Chateau Marmont or Soho House[1] for a real slice of celebrity life.”

  I eye my drink with caution. I have no intention of getting drunk. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s where we go to be seen. To make an announcement. ‘Look world, I’m dating Sabrina Taylor!’ Sometimes it’s real. Sometimes it’s not, but it’s always, always intentional.”

  On cue, Andrew’s phone buzzes and jumps across the table. He turns the screen flat on the table. “Is that her?”

  He stares at me and then laughs. He also motions to the waitress for another drink. “Yeah.”

  I pick up my drink and take a swallow. It’s sugary and sweet, but burns the back of my throat. “What’s her name?”

  He shakes his head.