Teen Idols And Happy Meals

Tea and Rollercoasters

Nikki’s POV

When you’re living a fantasy, reality seems painfully bland. Not that flipping burgers had ever been that stimulating, but recently it had grown infuriatingly tedious. It had gotten to the point where I was practically falling asleep at the grease fryer.

Never before had I been so frustrated by everyday life. But it was only to be expected; you couldn’t have fun on the Teacups after riding Space Mountain.  When I was with Jacen, I felt like I was on a thrill ride. Ups and downs and night swimming; twists and turns and breaking and entering; corkscrews and coils and kisses in secret.

Every moment with him was like a rollercoaster. In comparison, my normal life was It’s a Small World; so mind numbingly boring that you jump off your decorative boat and swim for it. That was how I felt as I left McDonalds that night; like I was jumping ship.

I greedily breathed in the clean November air, grateful to be free from the suffocating fog of oil and grease that dwelled within the building. The cold air burned my lungs on the way in, but I didn’t mind. There was a bounce in my step as I walked through the parking lot, exuberant over my later plans. I had some business to attend to, but after that, the night belonged to Jacen and me.

Once we got lost in that star crossed bubble of ours, there was no telling what could happen. When we were together, the world belonged to us.

I smiled a small, private smile of anticipation as I dug my keys out of my coat pocket. I lifted my head to see someone lounging across the front of my car. I would’ve assumed it was Jacen, but Jacen didn’t wear high heels.

“Sweet ride you got here princess,” purred the woman as she languidly pulled herself off the hood, “Italian made, right?”

“Um, do I know you?” I asked cautiously, as the figure stepped out of the shadows. Under the glow of the streetlight I could see her properly. She was a young woman with long glossy black hair that fell around her shoulders like a satin curtain. She was dressed in jeans so tight they must’ve been painted on and a grey pea coat that didn’t quite reach her navel and revealed her dangly belly button ring. I couldn’t help but think that a winter garment that exposed your midriff wasn’t very useful. Though I doubted this woman prioritized function over fashion. The shoes she wore had a heel like a pin after all.

“I’m certain you do,” Rosalyn Winters said with a sinister smirk.

“Sorry but I don’t think we’ve ever met,” I said passively, trying to keep the suspicion out of my voice. Even if celebrities were shooting in the area, it didn’t explain why this superstar actress would choose to come up to me, of all people, in a dark parking lot. Unless saying cryptic things to complete stranger was a hobby of hers.

“Did I say that?” she thrummed sweetly. When she smiled, her white incisors caught the light radiating off the nearby street lamp. “You can know someone without having met them. For instance, I’ve never met you, but I know exactly who you are.”

“You do?” I said slowly, carefully. I was immensely suspicious of this situation, and with good reason.

“Of course.” She sauntered towards me then, hips swinging excessively in an almost predatory way. Her crimson lips formed a mock pout. “You’re Jacen’s new wittle girlfriend,” she said in a baby voice.

I blinked at her in surprise. How the hell did she know that? And why was she acting like this? “. . . Who told you that?”

She gave a crass laugh. “Nobody had to tell me sweetheart. I figured it out all by myself. I’d tell you how, but seeing how I’m not a villain in a James Bond film, I don’t feel the need to explain myself. Let’s just say that I have ways of finding out what I want to know.” She herself smirked at the cliché.