Hollywood's Princess [PUBLISHED]

Epilogue: Shut Up and Kiss Me

There were many things that grabbed people's attention.

Cute animals, the flashing lights of a camera, the way a single shot in the sky can explode into a colorful display of fireworks.

Or probably, the most hyped thing right now – me.

Standing on the red carpet had been something I've become accustomed of. The many photographers kept yelling poses for me to do, and I happily complied, giving them different angles to take so their bosses would be happy with whatever they'll bring back that's saved in that little memory card.

As I tried to pass by, reporters kept halting my steps, asking for an interview. Like always, I would just smile and nod, preparing myself for one of those generic question and answers they always do.

"Are you single?" one of the many interviewers asked.

My lips curved into a little smirk at the question. This could have been the third time I've been asked that sentence for this night, and like all the others ones, I replied a quick, "No."

There was a slight sigh of disappointment from the man holding up the microphone as he nodded, asking me a few more inquiries, before bidding me goodbye so I could go on my merry way.

Don't worry, boy, my job may be a professional liar, but that's one of the few things I actually told the truth about.

Flipping away the annoying blonde fringe that insisted on falling to cover my eyes, I looked up the large steps that would lead me into the building.

Another night, another event.

There was this man who offered to help me climb up the steps, and according to his uniform and tired expression, it was obvious he had walked up to every dateless woman who turned up to help them climb up the stairs.

"Thank you," I replied graciously, looping my arm around his as I used my free hand to lift up my dress so I wouldn't trip on it.

As I reached the top, I thanked him once again as I watched him go down the stairs and ask the next girl who appeared on the bottom.

I silently wished the man good luck, before turning around and entering the building.

It was filled with the brightest stars in Hollywood, ranging from the multi-awarded actors to the platinum-selling recording artists.

It's an annual thing, yet people keep getting excited about it.

One of my past co-stars saw me and she weaved through the crowd to reach me, "Darling, long time no see."

"Yeah," I said, nodding in acknowledgement, "Have you seen the crowd out there? You couldn't get two steps without someone yelling your name."

She hummed as she walked beside as we made our way to the main venue, "Though I think they're doing that because they see you."

"You're too kind," I laughed, my tone implying that I was thankful for the compliment, "I'm just mediocre compared to this crowd."

She shook her finger at my statement and tsked, "You're quite forgetting who you are, you're considered Hollywood royalty right now."

I wanted to cringe at the title, but my parents insisted that I should be proud of it. It's not that I wasn't, but the weight I needed to carry and the expectations that arose from it gave me the chills.

I mean, most people at my age should just be enjoying life or wondering about if they have a good future after school, not worrying if they're going to trip in front of a hundred people, only to be broadcasted to a million more.