Chapter 2
1340 Words
Isabella's Pov
During the whole chaos, our eyes locked.
It was only for about three seconds, but it felt longer. Much longer.
His stare was cold. Sharp. Like he was trying to look straight through me. Not angry. Not curious. Just… unreadable.
I felt goosebumps rise on my skin without warning.
I looked away first.
My chest felt tight, like I had forgotten how to breathe. I didn’t even know why I reacted that way. I had seen powerful men before. Important men. Famous men. But something about him made my stomach twist.
I immediately dragged myself out of the crowd.
We had somewhere to be. A coffee shop. Somewhere normal. Somewhere safe.
I needed normal.
By the time we got there, my hands were still shaking a little. I wrapped them around the warm cup like it could ground me. Like it could pull me back into my body.
Anna kept talking. She always did when she was nervous.
She kept going on and on about Keon. About how serious he looked. About how people suddenly made space for him when he walked.
I nodded, but I wasn’t really listening.
That was when I noticed it.
The whispers.
“Is that her”
I froze
At first, I told myself I was imagining it. Years of growing up in the public eye taught me how to pretend things weren't happening. How to smile through discomfort. Yes, my mother especially taught me that. How to act normal, but there was a pause in conversation when I moved. A quick glance, then a look away.
My heart skipped.
Did someone recognize me?
I pulled my jacket closer, suddenly aware of myself. My hair. My face. My name.
I hated moments like this. Moments where I remembered I wasn’t just me. I was a headline waiting to happen.
I was still trying to calm myself when my phone started buzzing.
Not once.
Not twice.
Over and over again.
The sound was loud on the table. Too loud.
Anna frowned and picked up her phone at the same time. Her face changed immediately.
All the color drained from it.
Slowly, she turned the screen toward me.
My breath left my body.
It was a video.
A video of me… kissing Asher.
My head started spinning.
“How?” was the only word in my mind. How did this get out? How did someone record it? When?
My ears rang as I read the caption.
The comments were already flooding in.
I didn’t even realize I was standing until Anna grabbed my arm.
“Let’s go. Now,” she said.
She didn’t wait for my response. She pulled me up and dragged me outside.
And then it happened.
Paparazzi.
They came from nowhere. Cameras flashing. Voices shouting. Questions flying.
“Is it true?”
“Are you cheating?”
“Is this another stunt?”
The flashes blinded me. The noise made my head hurt. I felt exposed. Small. Trapped.
I stumbled back, my heel catching the edge of the pavement.
I almost fell.
Anna caught me instantly.
“I've got you,” she said, firmly pulling me up.
“You're okay.”
I wished I was brave like her.
Anna never froze. Never broke.
She always knew what to do.
Anna flagged down a cab so fast I didn’t even see how she did it. We jumped in, the door slammed shut, and the car drove off.
I didn’t realize I was crying until my cheeks felt wet.
When we got to my house, I thought it would be over.
I was wrong.
They were already there.
More cameras. More people. More noise.
It felt like the world was closing in on me.
I broke.
I couldn’t hold it anymore. The tears came harder. My chest hurt. I couldn’t breathe properly.
I tried calling my parents.
No answer.
Again.
Still nothing.
Anna looked at me and gently suggested we go to her place instead. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere they wouldn’t follow immediately.
When we finally got there, she made me sit down. She talked softly. She told me it would be okay. That scandals fade. That people move on.
But my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
Against my better judgment, I opened it.
That was my mistake.
The comments were cruel.
“She used her parents to get whatever she wanted.”
“She’s spoiled.”
“I bet this isn’t her first time.”
Each word felt like a slap.
I stared at the screen, numb.
Why was I the only one being dragged? Why was I the only one being blamed?
Anna sat beside me, furious. She replied to comments. She defended me. She called them stupid and heartless.
I barely noticed.
I tried calling my parents again.
This time, their manager answered.
That was worse.
I ended the call without saying a word.
I sat there in silence, phone in my hand, heart heavy.
Just hours ago, my life had felt normal. Quiet. Mine.
Now it feels ruined.
I stared at the wall, tears sliding down my face.
Why me?
I don't know how long I stayed there, curled up besides Anna, but at some point my mind drifted. It always did when things became too much.
I remember when I was eight.
Back then, I still believed my parents would pick me over cameras.
There was a day I was taken out of school early. I thought my parents wanted to surprise me, maybe with ice cream. Maybe a movie.
Instead, I was rushed into a black vehicle with tinted windows.
My mother's hands were shaking. My father wouldn't look at me.
But I heard someone was angry enough to hurt me.
I didn't understand anything back then, but I understood fear.
For weeks, I wasn't allowed outside, no school, no friends, no park.
I remember standing by the window watching other kids play across the street.
I remember thinking…what did I do wrong?
That's when I realized being their daughter wasn't a gift.
It was the target.
My parents told me to be strong. To smile. Do not let the world see me break.
But no one told me it was okay to be scared.
No one held me while I cried at night.
I sniffled now, back in Anna's living room, the memory squeezing my chest.
The same fear was back.
I looked around Anna’s house. It smelled like vanilla candles and old books.
Safe. Normal. Warm.
I wanted that life.
Not fame. Not attention.
Just peace.
That night, after Anna finally feel asleep. I stayed awake.
I kept thinking about the looks from the coffee shop.
The whispers.
I wasn't safe.
I never was.
I stared at the ceiling, hugging my knees.
What was I supposed to do?
I couldn't call my parents.
They’d already chosen silence over me.
I needed something stronger.
Protection.
I don't even know what it meant to someone like me.
A bodyguard?
A public apology?
A statement?
None of it felt enough.
People didn't want the truth.
They wanted a story.
“I'm tired,” I whispered to no one.
I didn't know how protection would come.
I only knew one thing for sure.
If I didn't find a way to shield myself,
This world would tear me apart piece by piece.
I tiptoed to where Anna hid my phone, my intriguing thoughts got the best of me. I hoped things had gotten better, a part of me wished the whole thing had died within hours. But I knew better…it was like the negative comments got 10× worse. My heart ached even more….I secretly said a prayer, honestly didn't know how it would work, but I believed.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I hesitated before answering.
“Isabella Hopkins?” a male voice asked.
“Yes…”
I honestly wasn't shocked he knew my name everyone
Did at this point.
“I have a solution to your problem,” the voice said calmly.
Before I could say anything, the line went dead.
- Writer
