Chayanne
I would have never ended well for me and him either. I have lost it all. I should end this life of mine already. I take a step towards the water. Another, then another.
The water has reached above my ankle. Just a little more and I will submerged and drown in its vastness. Its cold. Its ethereal beauty.
I was close. And then I heard a voice loudly call out my name; "Chayanne!" I push it aside as a final hallucination. But then it came again, louder, desperate. Almost growling. I slowly turn, and there he was, coming into the water. Panic and worry flickering on his face. I don't wait for him to get close, I run to him and jump into his arms. His embrace was tight, warm, lingering and familiar. I let myself sink in it as I cry my heart out. "What were you doing out here!" He half-yells. Fright laced in his voice.
"I thought you had abandoned me. You know that without you my life has no meaning."
"Same here, Chayanne. Death is the only thing that can part us. But I will not give it permission."
^^^^^^^^^^
FOUR YEARS AGO
"Please. You need to hurry up. We are late." Mia, my manager says with urgency. I am sitting in front of my decorative lights mirror doing nothing except scrolling on the internet and viewing the fever hashtags of the so-called "Most hottest dressed" celebrity at the pitch Gala that is happening right now. And I'm one of the top invitees. "Come look at this." She comes over and I begin to show her one by one the malicious comments on my number one anti-fan account which has garnered up to a million followers in the last four days.
[Has anyone seen Daddy's girl? I haven't]
[She doesn't belong here tonight. I bet my life that she is weeping in her Daddy's arms.]
This user even had the luxury of extra time to add a crying emoji. Some people really have nothing better to do with their lives. I scoff, checking the username. Firebitch. "Well firebitch, you are so going to lose that pathetic floor mat life of yours because I, Chayanne Walters is not weeping silly. But gearing to make an appearance that would blow all of your stupid minds away!" I roared into my phone like I was talking to Firebitch and my haters themselves. "This isn't anything new. They have always been like this." Mia quips. "I know. But it is flying over the fence. I'm so going to sue each and every single one of them!" That is just me blowing hot. I would hardly ever waste my precious time and money to do that. I would rather just hire a hacker assassin to find them and end them. Kidding. But as long as they don't cross the line into harming me like they did two years ago when someone brought a weapon to my fan meet attempting to stab me with it. While he quickly got restraint and I wasn't physically armed, the same could not be said for my mental health. I had nightmares over it for months and had to even get psychiatric help. Not that they could harm me now even if they want to. That would mean going through my strong wall of a bodyguard. Kael. Speaking of him, he is standing by my left in a clean black tux. It seems to be his favorite color. With his calm, delicate face. He is looking every bit of the deadly gentleman. It is from him I learned that the worst danger ever is the unseemly one. He has a pretty face that can be considered androgenic. As well as a lean muscular frame. He is like an iron wall. Anything but weak. A reckless attacker of his would be breathing his last in bone crushing pain and die in seconds. I have it with my own two eyes. Hell, it scared me. But it also fascinated me. There is something capable about a strong man that always makes me lose my mind. Tall too. As a 5'4, I don't date anything below 5'9 no matter how rich and handsome. I like the gentle guys. But I cannot deny the appeal in a deadly guy that can beat up anyone. I would so much prefer that.
"Are you even listening to me?" Mia snaps, causing me to look away from Kael to her. "What? Got ants in your pants?" I say derisively. "This is serious! We have less than an hour before the red carpet closes into the main event." I smile. "Great." I am going to go when it's twenty minutes to. Even if I arrive five minutes before the red carpet is over, the paparazzi, the reporters, they would make an extension for me because I define what is called a hot-ass celebrity. I block out her quaints and put on one of my party jam Playlist and begin to move my body to the infectious dancehall beat of we found love. Mia is still complaining and looking distressed over me not yet preparing for the red carpet. I don't blame her.
She is a rookie manager who only started working with me for a little over three months now. She still doesn't know how unserious I can be. I don't give a fuck for anything except what I want.