Rendezvous with the Rockstar

Chapter 1

It was impossible for a text message to change a life. Wasn't it?

Bright lights flashed in Chloe's face, sending white spots dancing across her vision. Her eyes burned in response. Still, despite having only three hours sleep the night before and wishing she was somewhere else – anywhere else - Chloe kept her smile face-achingly wide. 

It was all so ridiculous. From her fake smile, to the thick layers of makeup, to the giant oversized plane ticket propped in her arms, she had never felt less like herself.

One text. Just one. That's all it had taken to transform her into the main attraction of Terminal 4.

Every traveller slowed their walk as they approached, their eyes lingering on her face for a few seconds too long in hopes of spotting a celebrity.

If only. Maybe then there would be a reason for this farce.

Chloe adjusted her grip on the giant plane ticket, gritting her teeth as her arms ached in protest. Unsurprisingly, it didn't feel quite so light as it had forty minutes earlier. 

"For our listeners today, Chloe, how many times did you enter our competition?"

"Just once." She replied through clenched teeth, her overbright smile still firmly in place despite answering the same question eleven times already.

At her lacklustre reply, the radio presenter didn't miss a beat. Forcing a smile upon his crooked lips, he continued, "AMAZING. Isn't that incredible, folks? With just one simple text, Chloe took home the grand prize of our Summer Giveaway."

It didn't feel bloody amazing. Chloe kept smiling, her enthusiasm waning as quickly as her caffeine high. She had never hated someone so quickly in her life. Ronnie's smooth voice had dragged her through many essay marking sessions and yet, it was quickly becoming like nails on a chalkboard.

It's too early for this shit.

Though, was it too early to wish some deity would come and strike her down?  To put her out of her misery. Or,at the very least, bring her more coffee?

She drew in a deep breath and forced her smile wider, her cheeks throbbing in protest.

Be grateful, Chloe. You're going to the Maldives. Just think of the holiday.

She repeated the words over and over in her head like a mantra even as she wished she was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Well, almost anywhere.

A spectacle for strangers was still preferable to supervising the annual school camping trip.

She shivered. No, fucking thank you.  Been there. Done that.

"Now, if you want to be just like Chloe, about to head off on the trip of a lifetime, make sure you check out our competitions page on our website for details on how to enter." The man frowned and repeated the spiel several times over and over again, determined to get the perfect take. 

Chloe ground her teeth, the cardboard plane ticket biting into the palms of her hands. More lights flashed in her face. Maybe the camping trip would have been better than this?

A sudden commotion forced the presenter to a stop, his mouth half agape so that Chloe got a front row seat to the wad of chewing gum in his mouth. Her nose wrinkled in disgust just as there was another camera flash.

Just fucking perfect.

"Well, this is turning out to be a day." The radio presenter muttered, his head swivelling to watch the progress of a dark-haired man in dark jeans and a leather jacket through the terminal.