Fame: Makes a Man Think Things Over

What Do You Mean, Anonymous?

I hadn't been living in my new building long when I realized that one of the actors from The Star One franchise was also living there.

Ben Solo was on to other projects already, having filmed the third and final movie of the sequel trilogy, but he had achieved an amazing level of fame in the six years he had been filming. So much so that he had trouble going out without being recognized. The price of fame, I suppose.

I was nobody, of course, in comparison. I just happened to have the cash to grab a place in the building after borrowing some funds from my grandpa, who wanted me out of my shitty little apartment in a rough neighborhood. He thought I would be able to write better romance novels in a good location. He said he'd have less to worry about. That was fine by me.

However, I never considered the possibility that a famous person lived in the penthouse upstairs.

I ran into Ben Solo, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, when I couldn't reach my mailbox. For some reason, whoever designed the mail system put a row of boxes up a little too high for the likes of me. Ben was sorting through his mail with a furrowed brow, while I was struggling to pull mine out of the slot.

"Need a hand?" he asked in his familiar deep voice—the voice that had lots of women falling all over themselves. He was utterly drool-worthy.

"Yes, thank you," I said, maybe a little breathlessly. I watched him reach a long arm up and pull my mail out with one giant hand.

"Here you go," he said, nodding at me.

I took it and smiled. "Thank you," I said.

"My pleasure." He smiled back.

I had to blink a couple of times. Ben Solo was gorgeous when he smiled. His dimples showed and his whole face lit up.

He nodded at me and walked toward the elevator.

I bit down on the urge to turn and watch him walk. I figured it wouldn't do to swoon at Ben Solo's feet. I was just going to pretend I didn't know who the hell he was. Maybe he would appreciate that for a change.

The movie Ben Solo starred in had a very active fan base, for good or ill. People dressed up like the characters, attended Star One conventions, and generally had a good time discussing the history and intricacies of the storylines. There were nine films total in the franchise; the latest three movies introduced a new set of characters and adventures. Ben Solo played a masked villain, who doffs his mask to show his conflicted, sexy-but-problematic character. Kylo Ren was a supposed bad guy with just enough goodness in him peeking out to make women—and some men—sigh and hope for his redemption. Ben Solo was a gifted actor who portrayed the complexity of Kylo Ren beyond anything the franchise had ever seen.

However, the films had ended in an unsatisfactory way for many fans, with Kylo Ren redeemed but dead. It was awful. Ben Solo said little about the ending in interviews. He was always discreet and guarded. Gossip sites reported that he would not return to the franchise. Rumor deep in the rabbit hole of the Internet suggested that Ben Solo had been dissatisfied with the ending of the sequel as well. He was quite simply finished with Kylo Ren.

The franchise had given him fame, but it would not limit him. His newly minted fame, however, might...

The next morning, I caught Ben Solo sneaking into The Just Cup, an espresso place near our building. He strode up to the long counter and murmured an order to the barista. She giggled and flirted with him. He must be used to women falling all over themselves since the release of the films.

He got his coffee, turned away from the counter, and glanced around. His eyes met mine. He nodded at me and walked over to where I was sitting with my laptop open. He looked so fucking handsome that I thought I would die. I will not fangirl. I will not fangirl. I will not...