𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑

I sighed as I placed my phone back in my purse. Georg wasn't picking up, and he hadn't called, which meant Kath hadn't talked to him yet. So I sat there in the McDonald's parking lot, eating my McChicken, rethinking my choices over the past few days. What had I done that made people recognize me? It couldn't be the girl with the wierd eyebrows because I had promised her and her friends a meetup with the band. So, who else could it be?

While deep in my thoughts, I was startled by a knock on my car window. I turned to see a teenage girl standing outside, trying to peek in. I set my burger on the passenger's seat and opened my window just enough to properly hear her.

"Can I help you?" I tried to sound friendly, although still startled by her sudden appearance.

"Hi, yeah, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I saw your car and thought that maybe you could sign an autograph for me?" She shyly asked, taking a poster of the band out of her purse. It was already signed by the band members.

I thought about it for a second. This was my best chance of getting some information about how I suddenly became so recognized. I smiled and lowered the window, taking the poster and the pen she was handing me. I signed it but held onto it for a bit longer.

"Before I give this back, tell me, how did you know this was my car?" I asked, my expression becoming serious again.

She looked at me, confused. "It's all over Twitter. Your full name, photos of your car, your license plate number, and even some photos of you!" She spilled. She reached her hand out for the poster, but I wasn't giving it back just yet.

"Do you know who's behind all this? Who started it?" I tried to get some more information out of her.

She just shrugged her shoulders. "Girl, I don't know. I'm just really happy to meet you, that's all. I guess it would be inappropriate to ask for a photo right now," she asked, hopeful.

"I guess it would," I replied, handing her the poster back. "Have a nice day," I managed to say before the window closed. I didn't want to be labeled as rude, that would be worse. She seemed quite nice, and I definitely didn't want to ruin her day just because I'm having a bad one.

After finishing my food and feeding Bee, it was time to go to work. As I parked my car next to the hotel, I felt relieved that no one was waiting for me at the entrance. That meant no one had found out where I work. I took Bee's bag, made sure that my car was locked, and then made my way inside.

Walking in, I was greeted by Mrs. Anderson's sweet smile. She welcomed me and asked me about my day. Then she noticed the bag I was holding.

"A kitten?" She smiled. I was worried that she wouldnt let me bring Bee to work, but she smiled even bigger when I gave Bee to her. I quickly changed the newspaper at the bottom of the bag, so everything is clean when I put the kitten back in.

"Sweetheart, if you don't mind, I could take her to my room for a bit, so she can walk around and stretch her legs," she asked, holding Bee to her shoulder. The kitten had already got its tiny claws in her jacket and was trying to climb up.

"Yeah, no problem," I replied, smiling back at her. While working here, I had found out that this hotel belonged to Mr. Anderson, her husband, and they both lived here. Mrs. Anderson was a really sweet lady, and I felt that I could trust her; she hadn't given me a reason not to.

I watched her gracefully stride down the hallway, her demeanor exuding a certain elegance that seemed perfectly fitting someone who ran a hotel. With a friendly smile and Bee nestled on her shoulder, she disappeared around the corner, and now it was my turn to get to work. Mrs. Anderson had thoughtfully left a neatly handwritten to-do list for me, so I had no time to waste.

As I manned the front desk, I observed the hotel's incoming guests. The lobby seemed to be a magnet for middle-aged and elderly travelers, many of whom appeared to be enjoying a relaxed retirement trip. It seemed unlikely that these guests were active Twitter users or would recognize me. This anonymity allowed me to work peacefully without the fear of unwanted attention.

After my shift ended, I thanked Mrs. Anderson for taking care of Bee while I was working. She told me that she was really happy to help. Turns out her husband is away a lot, and she spends her days in the hotel. She was truly grateful for someone to keep her company.

I got in my car, ready to finally head home, but something didn't seem right. Unfamiliar warning lights were illuminated on the dashboard. As I began to drive, I silently prayed that my car would make it home without any issues.

I sighed in relief as I pulled into my garage. Getting out of the car, I double-checked that the garage door was securely locked, deciding to deal with the car issues later. As I made my way through the backyard and entered the house, an unsettling feeling washed over me. The dishwasher was running, and I could swear that I hadn't turned it on this morning. Furthermore, it wouldn't still be working even if I had.

I quietly grabbed the baseball bat that was still next to the front door and tiptoed my way through the hallway. With caution, I checked every room, trying not to make a sound. When I entered one of the guest rooms, I heard the sound of water splashing, which could only mean one thing: someone was taking a shower. I burst through the door, gripping the baseball bat, ready to confront the intruder, only to be met with two startled eyes staring back at me.

"Bill?"