Bullseye | h.s.

Prologue

In our modern world, fame is recognized as one of the many luxuries of life. Fans pluck beautiful and talented people from their normal life, and transform them into a figure that is praised similarly to a God. We treat them as if they are higher beings, better than those who live an ordinary life. A celebrity's fan-base consists of people who will do anything to meet them. These fans will go through any obstacle to get their existence acknowledged by the one person they idolize the most. Without our dedication and devotion, it would be impossible for a celebrity to stay relevant. Everyone knows there is no celebrity without their notorious fan-base.

I am no different when it comes to treating celebrities as a deity. Since the beginning of his career, I have been a massive fan of the famous actor, Harry Styles. One of my favorite directors, Christopher Nolan, starred the young actor in a blockbuster film, instantly bringing rise to his career. Ever since then, I have been infatuated with Harry Styles. Although I have never met him, nor have I ever spoken to him, I feel like I know him, a lot about him.

Harry Styles was born on the first of February, 1994, in Cheshire, England. He is twenty three years old. His family consists of a mother named Anne, a father named Des, a sister named Gemma, and a stepfather named Robin. He currently resides in Los Angeles, California, in an enormous, multi-million dollar mansion just outside of Hollywood. In his short, yet impressive six year career, he has been featured in multiple famous movies. He evolved from being your average Joe to a world renowned actor. Not only did the media adore him, but he also snatched the hearts of teenage girls across the globe.

I know everything I have to know about this man. Information that will benefit me in the long run.

With this thought in my head, I unlock the front door of my quaint, Los Angeles apartment, reaching behind me to untie the apron that I'm forced to wear for my basic waitressing job. I carelessly place it on a chair that's adjacent to the door and head to my living room, my short heels clicking on the hardwood floor of the hallway with every step I take. The sound of the heels ricochet off the walls of my silent apartment, breaking the silence little by little.

I slip off my shoes once I reach the living room, pushing my long, dark brown hair away from my face. I don't bother to change any more before plopping down on my black leather couch, reaching forward to retrieve the remote from the glass coffee table in front of me. I use the remote to turn on the TV that's mounted to the wall, switching to the channel I want to watch. It is Oscars night, and, of course, Harry Styles is attending, ready to accept yet another award for his outstanding work. His red carpet interview is just ending, and he walks away as the interviewers call up Lin-Manuel Miranda, who is performing a song from the score he wrote for the newest Disney movie.

During the interview, the screen splits and a camera pans to Harry, who is posing for the paparazzi swarming around the red carpet. All eyes are on the actor, his physical beauty seeming picturesque in his expensive Gucci suit. My eyes tear away from the screen when my phone makes a noise, alerting me that I've received a message. I dig the phone out of my bag that I had placed next to my couch, reading the message displayed on my lock screen.

"When are you going to meet him, Valentina? We need to get started." The text reads.

I exhale slowly through my nose, standing up to answer my very, very close friend. I type out the word "Soon" and send just that, because that is my plan.

Soon.

As soon as I'm sure everything will work out. I peer at the TV from my new position at my kitchen counter that separates the living room from the kitchen area.

I have a plan I need to follow through with. And that's exactly what I intend to do.

There's just one key ingredient we are missing in our procedure:

The beautiful man on my television screen.