Cal Jackson's new life as a rockstar fails to account for one thing: the existence of the girl he loves.
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"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"A song," I say. "A new song."
I stare at the ocean as I sing the song that I wrote, something th...
AN: Hi, everyone. Thank you so much for staying on this journey. Thank you for sharing your thoughts about Cal and Amy. I've read them all on my message board, and I really appreciate that you reached out to me to express your feelings. I'm really happy that you did. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to reply one by one. I believe that your thoughts and questions can only be answered by the following chapters.
It's four updates in a row (Chapter 48-51). Enjoy the story :)
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"Can you tell me what this is all about?" Dean, my manager, snaps his hand on the counter after showing the latest article on the internet about Amelia, now presented on the projector screen in my living room.
I lean back on the couch, my eyes focusing on one of the headlines. 'Cal Jackson has just kicked a stalker out of his house.'
Below the headline, there's information explaining a girl named Amelia Davis crying after her failed attempt to barge into my penthouse, and a lot of comments from readers who are wondering whether I would sue her or not.
"Who is she?" Dean urges, pacing back and forth, clearly showing that he's not happy with me. "What the hell is going on? We all know that you picked her up at her workplace and brought her here yesterday." He puts his hands on her hips, his jaw tight as he watches me.
I shift my gaze to my bodyguard, Owen, who's standing at the corner of the room. He clears his throat, admitting that he told Dean all about this, that Amelia and I aren't strangers.
"Cal," Dean warns. "Did you know that those reporters followed her to her apartment, figured out her identity, college, and even the place where she does her part-time job?"
I stare at him indifferently, with such coldness that makes him take a step back. But my insides are burning.
Fuck those reporters. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My fist is shaking with rage as I ball it on my side. I feel like exploding.
"Cal," Dean starts again. "That girl can't leave in peace with all these accusations."
"Then clear her name!" I roar, standing up.
Dean and Owen jump because of how loud my voice booms, their eyes wide in shock. They've never seen me raise my voice, and now, they're looking at the worst version of me.
I'm not angry. I'm livid. I feel like destroying the world. I feel like killing myself for what happened.
"I don't care what bullshit you're going to say to the media, but all those articles should be gone," I hiss, my voice shaking with emotions I can't control. "She's not a stalker." With that said, I walk off.
"Then why the fuck did you kick her out?" Dean shouts. "Goddammit, Cal--" Whatever it is he's saying is cut off when I shut the door to the washroom, locking myself inside.
