Something wasn't right.
He wasn't really sure when it had started, but now he could surely feel it.
Everywhere he went, he didn't feel safe, even if he had a whole hoard of security guards with him.
And it wasn't because of the prying paparazzi or the crazy mobs of fans.
It was this feeling of constantly being watched. It followed him everywhere. He couldn't simply let it go. It would creep up his skin, nig itself in his mind, and he'd almost feel a cold chill sneak all over his skin. He'd snap his head all around him, but he'd see nothing. No one out of the ordinary.
Everyone - his manager, his crew, his friends, his family, his girlfriend - would ask him what was wrong, and he didn't know how to answer that. There was nothing concrete to suggest that something was amiss, besides just that feeling inside of him. The feeling that followed him to work, to meals, to his house, everywhere.
He hated it. He hated constantly being on edge. He wanted to just be able to go on as normal, lead his life as normal. And for now, really, nothing had happened. Why was he this way? Paranoia? He didn't know.
I'm just being paranoid, he leaned against the walls of the lift of his apartment building. His breathing was staggered, ragged. That's right. Nothing's happened. I'm just being stupid. What could possibly go wrong?
The second the lift doors opened, he hotfooted it to his apartment and opened the door as quickly as he could in the nick of time, making it into his abode in the time of seven seconds flat. There's a new record, he thought dryly to himself.
He felt just a little more safe alone in his house. Just a little.
Wait... alone. He didn't like that word.
An involuntary shiver ran up his body. He sneezed.
Suddenly the phone exploded.
Its shrill blare violently broke the tense silence in the house and jumped, every muscle in him tingling, his heart pounding. He stared at the screaming machine and tried to calm himself down. Slowly, he crossed the room to the phone, his hand shaking as it picked the receiver up, holding it to his ear.
"Hello?" He said aloud, trying to sound as normal as possible.
Silence.
And then he heard breathing. It was so soft that he could barely hear it, but if he strained his ears he would just hear the heavy breaths of a person, almost panting.
"Hello?" He called out again. His nerves trembled inside him against his furiously beating heart.
"Bless you," the reply came in a soft but eerie whisper.
Then there was no more.
The phone crashed from his hand to the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Love At Gunpoint
Fanfiction"All it takes is one second, and you're dead." "Why can't I know your name? We're practically lovers." When a fan's deadly obsession crosses the line, Greyson Chance requires serious security to protect him - and he can't trust the government or the...
