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“Heartbreaker!” they scream. The screams mount until they’re louder than my voice, drowning out the song. “Heartbreaker! Heartbreaker!”
I start screaming at my guards for help. It doesn’t matter of course, I can’t even hear my own voice in this pandemonium. Besides, they’re already doing all they can. It’s not enough.
My bodyguards close in on the crowd, drawing their Glocks. I hear the distinct clicking sound of pistols being charged, and my heart stops.What is happening?I’m losing it.
“Heartbreaker!” the fans chant, undeterred by the guards’ attempts to pull them off Eden. The guards manage to grab a few and escort them out, but more replace them. “It’s her! She’s the heartbreaker!”
Wait, the heartbreaker? Eden? Oh, Christ, no. This can’t be happening. They want to freaking kill her.
I am shaking so badly, I can’t hold on to my guitar.
I wish I knew how to pray.
“Eden!” I roar, but it’s still not loud enough. My screams are lost in the deafening shouts of ‘heartbreaker’.
It happens in front of my eyes. The crowd surges as a body of water, circling her, closing in on her. I fling my guitar to the stage floor, not even noticing the clanging sound it makes–I probably broke it–and I break out in a run. I leap down the three yards and keep running, but my guards intercept me, sandwiching me between them, no allowing me to move.
It was useless anyway.
The crowd has zeroed in on Eden.
They have her.
“Heartbreaker!” They scream, out of their minds with hive-mind fury. “Heartbreaker! Heartbreaker! She is the heartbreaker. Get her! She needs to die!”
I catch sight of a slice of white skin on Eden’s cheek as she ducks down between the bodies pressing against her, trying to shield herself by bringing her hands protectively over her head. A sliver of red from her hair catches my eye. She falls to her knees.
And then the crowd swallows her and she completely disappears from sight.
Isaiah’s phone
*message from James*
I don’t know how to tell you this, but there is this piece of news circulating. That there is a girl working for you who did you a lot of harm in the past.
All I want to know, is this true?
Was she the one who pulled all that crap back then? Is she the reason you had to drop out of school, change your name and miss out on college? Is she the one who destroyed your life and, more importantly, you?
If so, I’ll hop on a plane and kill her myself.
Also, warning: As murderous as I feel myself, your fans are something else, man. They are rabid. They haven’t stopped posting about her and calling her the ‘heartbreaker’ since this morning when the news broke out on Page Six. They’ve broken the internet. I know you’re not online, but for once, I thought I should warn you. It might be nothing but empty gossip, and I pray it is.
But until it blows over, stay low, ok? It’s… it’s pretty bad. And the timing sucks too, I hope this won’t hurt your European tour. Just get rid of that girl, whoever she is, and if even a single word of what they are posting is remotely true, then I’m coming over there.
No one hurts you, Zay, not on my watch.
And she did.
Or someone did, all those years ago. I was barely sixteen back then, but I knew enough to know that if I ever saw her, I’d kill her.
You don’t remember how you were, Zay, but I do.
There was nothing left of you.
You were a ghost.
I lost our dad and then I lost you. And you… You lost everything.
