Monster at bay
1096 Words
Monsters at bay
“Aria.”
I didn’t respond.
“Aria.”
Still nothing.
“Earth to Aria.”
My head snapped up, my gaze finally landing on Vicky.
Her brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail, damp with sweat, a few loose strands sticking stubbornly to the sides of her face. Her skin glistened under the dressing room lights, her chest rising and falling slightly from exertion.
She’d gone running again.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she studied me.
“Nothing,” I said too quickly, dismissing the question before it could settle.
Her eyes narrowed.
“You went running.”
“Yeah.” Her answer was short, clipped.
Of course she did.
Vicky called them nightmares.
That’s what she always said when she came back from one of those early morning runs with haunted eyes and shaking hands.
But I knew better.
Nightmares didn’t follow you into daylight.
They didn’t sit in your chest like something breathing.
They didn’t make your body remember things your mind refused to touch.
Whatever haunted Vicky had teeth.
Just like mine did.
“Why are you still here?” she asked.
My gaze dropped to the necklace resting against my throat.
It had arrived this morning through one of Dom’s men.
He insisted I wear it for the shoot.
I lied and told him I already had.
Now, feeling the cold metal pressing against my skin, I wished I hadn’t.
It was beautiful in the way expensive things usually were.
Elegant.
Sharp.
But the sides curved too tightly around my neck, less like jewelry and more like chains dressed up in diamonds.
“I needed a touch-up,” I said, brushing invisible lint from my dress. “Why are you here?”
“I heard what happened.”
Massimo told her.
Of course he did.
I never knew what to call whatever Vicky and Massimo had. Love? Habit? Chaos?
They broke up and found their way back to each other so often I’d stopped asking questions years ago.
Whatever it was, it belonged to them.
And if she ever decided to leave him for good, I’d respect that too.
“Oh.” I forced a shrug. “Yeah. I blacked out. No big deal.”
Vicky stared at me.
“Really? No big deal?”
“Yeah.”
Her arms folded across her chest.
“The look on your face says otherwise.”
I looked away.
“Aria…” Her voice softened this time. “I’m your best friend. I know when something’s wrong. But I can’t help you if you keep pretending everything is okay.”
The words pressed against the back of my throat.
Tell her.
Tell her about the cameras.
Tell her how no footage was recorded yesterday.
Tell her about the open window this morning.
Tell her about the feeling that someone was always there—
watching.
Waiting.
Tell her about waking up on the balcony when the last thing you remembered was standing in the bathroom.
Tell her before you lose your mind completely.
The words rose.
And stopped.
Because saying them out loud would make them real.
And I wasn’t ready for that.
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile that felt wrong on my face.
“I’m fine,” I said lightly. “Honestly. Monsters are best when kept at bay.”
Vicky’s expression tightened.
For a second, I thought she’d push.
Instead, she sighed.
“Fine. Keep your secrets.”
Her voice softened despite the frustration.
“But I need you to know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Something sharp twisted in my chest.
I nodded, looking toward the door before pushing myself to my feet.
The necklace dragged against my skin as I moved.
Heavy.
Restricting.
A reminder.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
We stepped toward the door together.
“Oh—before I forget,” Vicky said. “How’s the new security detail?”
My fingers tightened at my sides.
“It’s…” The word stuck in my throat. “Nice.”
The lie tasted bitter.
She smiled faintly.
“I knew that’s what you needed. Just a little peace of mind.”
Peace of mind.
Funny phrase.
As if peace could be installed like cameras and guards.
---
The production floor buzzed with controlled chaos.
Crew members rushed around carrying equipment.
Makeup artists moved in quick circles.
Assistants barked instructions over the noise.
Bright studio lights burned overhead, turning everything sharper than it needed to be.
This was supposed to be simple.
An interview.
My first one in months after Monalisa became a box-office hit.
Smile.
Answer questions.
Promote the movie.
Pretend.
Easy.
At least that’s what everyone thought.
Jose guided me toward my seat, his tablet clutched tightly in his hand as he typed through emails I had no intention of reading.
After Monalisa, I’d disappeared from social media.
Fans thought I needed a break.
The press called me mysterious.
No one knew the truth.
That was when it started.
The watching.
That crawling feeling at the back of my neck.
That awful certainty that someone was always there, just out of sight.
All because I thought expanding my career was what I needed.
“Aria?”
Jose’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I blinked.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice sounded thin even to me. “Just tired.”
He frowned.
“You look pale.”
“I’m fine.”
Lie.
I lowered myself into the chair, smoothing my dress over my knees.
And then—
I saw him.
At the far end of the room.
Standing still.
Watching.
A dark suit fit his body too perfectly, sharp against the flood of studio lights.
His face remained hidden from where I sat, shadow swallowing every detail.
But somehow…
I felt him.
Not looking.
Watching.
My breath caught.
My pulse stumbled against my ribs.
Something cold slid down my spine.
Danger.
That was the first thing I felt.
Raw.
Immediate.
And yet beneath it—
something else.
Not excitement.
No.
Something stranger.
A pull I didn’t understand.
Like my body recognized something my mind couldn’t.
He started walking toward me.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
One step.
Then another.
My fingers curled against the armrest.
The noise around me faded.
The lights felt too bright.
The room too small.
Who was he?
Why did he feel—
familiar?
He got closer.
Closer.
And just as he was only a few feet away—
“Lights off!”
- Writer
