Kill Me Now (Book 1)(Editing)

Chapter 1: The Barf Bag

+++++++++++

Chapter 1

+++++++++++

            "Terminal 2, United Airlines plane BAW95 ready to leave in thirty minutes," the speaker above blares. Quickly shoving some of my doughnut into my mouth, I rush to the line for the security check. Lucky for me, it's not too long and I'm number five in line. Guess Tuesday isn't a really popular day for travel. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I text mom to let her know I'm ok. Just as I'm slipping it into my in the pocket, the sound of clicking cameras starts from the far end of the room. My brows scrunch as I swivel around, only to be blinded by flashing lights. What in the world... This seems familiar, a Beyond the Lights  dead ringer. Then it hits me; paparazzi's!

             Some poor, unsuspecting famous person probably thought they could slip through here unnoticed. So this is the life of the rich and famous?

            My doughnut falls out of my hand as I gawk. Humanity hits me like Isaac Newton's apple and my whole perspective changes. Why would people act like chickens with their heads chopped off to meet a stupid person they see on TV? It's not like they're gods, but rather people who happened to do something really cool. So what's all the fuss about?

           "Omigoodness," the girl in front of me squeals, "I can't believe the tabloids were actually right!"

            "About who?" I turn to her bewildered. She ignores me as she squeals and mumbles to herself about how hot he is. He? The ruckus fast approaches the security check  and a whole slew of security guards come out of nowhere.

            "Keep the line moving," a guard yells at me.

             I stop gaping and move forward. "I'm sorry I've just never seen people act this crazy before." My head shakes with wonder.

            "Ha, they usually aren't this bad,"  another security guard laughs. I turn to him as I walk through the metal detector. "The only time I've seen this much of a ruckus is when Michael Jackson came through here." Completely speechless, I sneak one more glance over my shoulder before exiting the security check. I honestly don't get how people can live like that.

            "Do you plan to get into a relationship with Alice Parker?" A journalist's voice carries over the other voices clamoring for attention.

            "Hey Mitch look over here," a paparazzi yells. I freeze at the sound of the familiar name. Mitch, as in Mitch O'Connor? I bite the inside of my cheek and spin around to confirm if it is him indeed.

            "Is Mitch O'Connor your real or stage name?" another journalist shouts. The color drains from my face. It is indeed Mitch O'Connor, my least favorite celebrity though we could also add person on earth too. I swore to hate him once upon a time. Thought I got over the feelings,  but guess I didn't. Amidst all the rabble behind the security line I catch I contact with the guy himself. His grey eyes twinkle with a tease despite all the chaos around him.

            I narrow my eyes and if looks could kill, Mitch Hell'Connor would be lying on the floor. I bet he doesn't even remember me or what he did. He probably doesn't even care about how much he hurt my sister. The dolt is oblivious to the stark venom in my eyes and has the nerve to flash me a wink. My mouth drops open and bits of donut dribble to the floor. A conceited smile crosses Mitch's face and I guess he interpreted my gaping for admiration. He couldn't be more wrong. My view of him is cut off by an enormously large bodyguard who acts as if I'm going to try and attack the butthole. I curl my lip in disgust and angrily move forward again. The nerve!