Five Minutes

Paparazzi on Mopeds

"So what's gonna happen now?"

Having to relive that incident in her head had been such a mentally gruelling experience. But Veronica had to keep reminding of herself she had to fight through it. She couldn't let herself succumb to losing, to letting her fears overtake her.

Now she had to wait. And see.

That waiting was even more torturous. She had been given a copy of the assault report for her own records, while the details of her report were sent to the persecutor's office.

It was wholly out of her hands and out of her control. That notion caused her heart to squeeze with intense anxiety - a sensation she'd become all too familiar with.

She had just finished explaining everything to Sallie, who sat across from her.

They were dining at a place called Milk Jar Cookies, a dessert place with a homelike environment and black and white decor. It was very fitting for the establishment's title.

"I don't know," Veronica replied. "I have no idea how long it's going to take."

"Well that's some bullshit," Sallie said. "They should arrest him anyway. That whole innocent until proven guilty thing is stupid."

"But what can I do?" Veronica asked.

"Kick him in the balls while you wait. He can't hurt anyone else if his equipment isn't working," Sallie said, then lifted her coffee mug to her lips.

Veronica chuckled, feeling a little awkward because while the comment funny, the situation itself wasn't. But Veronica supposed being able to make light of a dark experience wasn't always a bad thing. It could make grappling with everything easier.

Sallie placed her mug back atop the table, glancing over Veronica's shoulder at something. "There're paps taking photos of us behind you."

Frowning, Veronica was in the midst to turning when Sallie called out, "Don't look! Play it cool."

"How long have you been there?" Veronica asked. She wasn't used to being photographed, not in a casual setting like this. It was the upside of being an indie starlet. She passes by people unrecognized often. That was why the one time she'd been approached when eating by herself all those months ago had been a bit of a surreal experience.

Though that had been a fan, not someone snapping pictures of her. The latter was much worse, especially what everyone associates her with now.

"I have no idea," Sallie replied. "They think they're being discreet too. Dumb asses."

"Maybe it's someone else they're taking photos of?" Veronica guessed hopefully.

"But there's no one else here," Sallie pointed out.

Knowing that they were outside, watching, was making her very self-conscious. She stared down at the plate of fresh cookies on their table, now sadly unable to consume any of it. It didn't matter that she couldn't see them, that her back was facing them. She just wanted them to go away.

Sallie looked at the paparazzi, a wide smile on her face, as she raised her hand and stuck up her middle finger. "Take a photo of this, motherfuckers!"

Veronica laughed. "You tell me not to look, and then flip them off?"

"Ronnie, you're a classy lady. I'm not, so no one gives a shit if I give them the bird."

"I don't think classy a word I'd associate with myself."

"Oh, but you are classy!" Sallie exclaimed. "Now eat your cookies."

Veronica wanted to, but she couldn't. Her appetite had diminished quickly. "I can't. I don't want them taking pictures of me eating. Are they still there?"

Sallie chuckled. "They're not gonna go away, Ronnie. They're leeches. They're going to suck as much as they can until you get up and leave."

"What if they follow me?" Veronica asked, whispering. The action was reflexive, a paranoid in her mind worried they'd overhear her words, even though that was impossible. Unless they had super sonic hearing. But she greatly doubted that.

"Just remind yourself they're pathetic," Sallie suggested. "And once they notice that you've noticed them, you give them a smile like you don't give a shit."

"The only reason they want to follow me is because I'm a crazed stalker. They don't care about my career."

"They don't care about anyone's career," Sallie said. "They take photos to sell to tabloids. They care about money."

Veronica looked glumly back down at the chapter cookies. "This isn't they kind of fame or attention I wanted."

"I know, Ronnie." And Sallie sounded sad; she sounded sorry. "But this is a wave you have to ride. It's not like the paps know you personally. And you're not the only celebrity they do it to. It's better to face it instead of hide from it. The more secretive you are, the more determined they get. Like... helicopter over your fucking house determined. They'll do anything to get the shot they want. Why do you think so many of them get the shit kicked out of them? They don't care if they're crossing boundaries. They're savages."

Veronica knew all of that, but it didn't make the scenario any more comforting. Although she couldn't stay locked up in her house until everything blew over. Who the hell knew how long that would take? Weeks? Months? Years? Imprisoning herself hadn't helped her mental state; she couldn't revert back to that lifestyle. Isolated and unhappy, a hermit.

"Actually, what you should do is turn around, grin and wave," Sallie said, taking another swing of her coffee.

"But you told me not to look," Veronica pointed out.

"I changed my mind. Forget what I said."

She let out a breath of annoyance, deciding Sallie's idea wasn't so bad. It was better to let them know she was aware of them. Then she'd be in more control of everything.

So she plastered a stupid smile of her face, looked back over her shoulder and waved enthusiastically. Like she was happy to see them.

"How was that?" she asked, when she was facing Sallie again.

"I thought you were over acting a bit," Sallie deadpanned.

"Shut up." She finally extended her arm and grabbed a cookie.

This was only the beginning, wasn't it?