The car stops and I pay, watching as it disappears into the traffic. I turn around to walk down Baker Street when the front page news at the newspaper stand slams me to a halt.
Blackburn twin party ends in disaster.
I buy the paper and sit on the nearest bench and start reading.
The notorious Blackburn twins celebrated their birthday on a private yacht owned by the renowned gang leader Alberto Garcia, confirming the speculations that they are more than just mere acquaintances. However, the party ended abruptly when two people fell overboard into the bay.
Famous champion, Damion Grimm’s younger brother and Enrique Blackburn’s girlfriend Aria Thompson, struggled and fell into the water.
The actress Amanda Dee tried to grab her friend but was too late.
The police neither confirmed nor denied allegations that this was no accident, and no case has been opened as yet. Did the Grimms use their money once again to wipe this incident under the carpet?
I scan over the rest of the stupid article that says we were rescued and treated for hypothermia, and so on until I get to the part about the pregnancy.
Although nobody in the family is willing to give a statement, Enrique’s agent denied that the boy pushed Aria but didn’t confirm that it was an accident. According to him, the police are investigating the incident. Luckily, both victims were already released from the hospital.
The top news however is a secret video of Enrique talking on the phone that was leaked onto social media. The video reached over a million views in just a matter of hours after its release.
The birthday-boy supposedly was talking to his youngest brother, Logan Blackburn, who is currently in Washington, and it confirms the rumors that his new girlfriend, Aria Thompson, is indeed pregnant.
Here are the actor’s own words :
“Don’t worry, brother, the doctor said the baby is fine. He’s a Blackburn, so he’s a strong little bastard. Nothing would get him down.”
(A link to the video is at the bottom of this bulletin)
Fuck! I crumple up the paper. What a load of bullshit! Who taped Enrique? And now I’m officially pregnant … ug. But maybe it’s better for Mel if they think that I’m the knocked-up one for a while. I don’t care much about that. But why would they think Luke pushed me? It’s more like Amanda pushed me. Psycho bitch! I’m sure of that, but I can’t prove anything. She keeps on telling everyone how she wanted to grab me but was just too late. And what friend? She’s the last person that I would ever call that.
I throw the paper into the nearest trashcan. I officially hate the press, the paparazzi, and anyone that has anything to do with any news. But most of all, I hate Amanda Dee, a super bitch, and pain in the ass. Tonight, Mel and I are going to work out some strategies to get these bitches from our lives.
A chill runs down my spine and I look around; it’s as if everybody is watching me. Paranoid much, Aria? But just in case, I pull my hoody forward, to cover more of my face as I walk further down the street. Yep, at least I’ve learned something since my last tragic paparazzi incident; I learned to blend in and hide.
Increasing my steps, I weave through the crowd. I’m working later, but I made the uber drop me a few blocks away from the club on purpose; I wanted to walk a little, to breathe in some much-needed fresh air. And also to prolong my reunion with the robot devil that dewomanized me again and again and again last night.
“Aria!” I instantly halt. Who the hell recognized me? I slowly turn in the direction the voice came from and close my eyes, praying that I’ll get through another day without committing any crime … like assault or murder … something in that line at least. It’s Brian, my second least favorite person, or maybe my third … no matter which, he’s right at the bottom somewhere.
“Hey, I need to talk to you,” he grabs my arm as if to keep me from running away. Ug, what does he want? I stare at him with the most I-don’t-fucking-like-you face I can muster, hoping he would get the message.
“Oh, don’t be so biased, babe. I’m just here to tell you what’s gonna happen,” he smiles and I would give anything to wipe that grin from his ugly face. How can the stupid press say that he’s hot? He looks like Tarzan’s brother … from his adoptive mother’s side, that is. Okay, maybe I should not go that far … poor gorilla doesn’t need to be downgraded like that. But I really don’t like Brian.
“Aria, I know you can’t help drooling over me, but I need you to focus.” Oh, do you have it all wrong, asshole! This is no googling drool. But I keep my mind from wandering to all the different ways to inflict pain on him and try to listen to the big ape.
“Firstly, you are going to help me land that movie deal,” he orders in all seriousness. I frown, “and after that, you’re gonna dump your boyfriend and start dating me.”
Did I hear correctly? Is this man crazy or what? I pull my arm from his grip and stubbornly lift my chin. He can go to hell!
“And why exactly would I do that?” I cross my arms, his over-confident smile giving me the heebie-jeebies. Suddenly my tummy twists and turns as if King Julien is doing the Madagascar Mumbo in there.
“Well, because I’m totally in love with you,” he takes my hands in his, rubbing them with his thumb. Old Julien is now throwing one heck of a party down there … moving it … while I freeze. It takes me a few minutes to realize that he’s eagerly waiting for a response.
Shifting my dazed focus to his face I try to find the right words to let him down easy … to tell him I don’t have any recuperating feelings … my heart solidly belongs to someone else. Even though I don’t like the dude, I still don’t want to hurt his feelings too much. I pull my hands from his and open my mouth but hesitate, rubbing the side of my neck.
“If that’s not enough reason …” he continues as if guessing my thoughts, his face now lost of any warm feelings it displayed before, “you might change your mind to keep the whole Blackburn family from getting some devastating news … and poor Mel will most likely lose that precious baby.” He pulls his mouth in a pout, his thin bottom lip pushed out overdramatically.
“What?” I’m stunned. How does he know?
“I know she’s the pregnant one,” he winks at me and my heart drops to my sneakers.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I plead, hoping he has some humanity deep down somewhere.
“I won’t, as long as you do what I say.” He’s smug. Too smug. He holds out a brown envelope. What news? It must be a big bomb for him to act this arrogantly.
Maybe I should just turn around and walk away. But my hand takes it all by itself. Flip. I look at him. He’s enjoying this; his eyes remind me of Jackson all of a sudden. Ug, that can’t be good. I take out the paper inside and my mouth drops open; fucking nuclear bomb.
BA-BA-BOOM!
My mind just exploded; followed by my heart. Life sucks and mine seems to suck at a very consistent and fast rate.
“I’ll give you a week.”