Chapter Nine
___________
Fia
The jittery nerves won’t go away; the itchy pricks stab my skin tenaciously as I stand in the makeup room.
I have thirty minutes before the performance begins, and I’m terrified out of my mind, and this anxiety isn’t helping.This is a high school presentation all over again, but this time is in front of people who have higher expectations.
My career practically rides on this performance, and I don’t want to disappoint those who have brought me here.Many people would say my success is through my own hands, but I will always give credit to those who have played a crucial part in my life.
I look over the bouquets, baskets of gifts, and colorful letters.I promise myself that I wouldn’t touch them until after the performance because every person who had extended their blessings to me should get my gift first.
I want to be able to gift them a performance that they will love before I even attempt to touch the gifts that they had sent me.It is a custom that I like to do out of respect.
Brushing the dense violin case, memories flash back to me as I chuckle for the first time I tried to play.It sounded terrible, and it was even worse than my singing, but I never gave up because I had fallen in love with the melody that would come out of it.
I withdraw my hand when a knock on the door jerks me out of my thoughts.It’s most likely the hairstylist that wants to come in to do my hair.
The door opens, and a woman with a petite figure smiles when she steps inside.I could have sworn the person who was going to do my hair was a man that introduced himself earlier.It must have been during those busy times of preparation that I mistook him for my hairstylist.
“Good evening, Miss.Fia.”She shakes my hand and turns my body to push me down on the chair.
The mirror in front of me is illuminated by small lightbulbs on the sides, and the whiteness blinds me for a moment.
“I’m going to do your hair, and please feel free to tell me if I’m hurting you.”Her politeness is soothing as I nod.
I don’t have much of an idea for the kind of style one would have during a live performance, but I take it that it has to be classy.
I have had experience with services where people just like to talk, and I’m fine with it because it takes my mind off other things that I would rather not think about.The performance, for one, is something I would like to leave at the back of my mind for now.I want to relax and maybe cuddle with Vito for a couple of minutes.
He said he was going to scout the area first and take care of some business before coming back.This is one of the most secure buildings, so no one can come in without an invitation or a worker’s badge.
I don’t understand why Vito had told me his thoughts about one of the board directors that I had met at the gathering.He said that the man was suspicious, and he thinks he is my stalker.As absurd as it can be, Vito made convincing shreds of evidence.
The man had access to money and power to make sure that I can be tracked from anywhere.He has a family history of schizophrenia, and he was on medication for it.I told him that it was an invasion of privacy and a breach of patient-doctor confidentiality.
Vito doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings when he dived into the man’s background, but I couldn’t stop him either because the fear of the stalker is still greater than anything I have felt.
I want this nightmare to be over with.
“Hey, Fia—oh, I’m sorry, can I call you that?”the hairstylist asks.“I’m Clarissa.”
I open my eyes and peer at her through the mirror.“It’s okay; you can call me Fia.”
Clarissa smiles as she twists a piece of hair into a curling motion for the hair iron.“I heard about what happened to you, and I’m so sorry.”
I shudder with a weak laugh.“Yeah, it’s scary.I have Vito, so things have been easier.”
“Vito,” she mumbles the name under her breath, and her eyes narrow at the top of my head.
“Is it the guy that’s been your shadow for the last week or two?”
I blink at her interest in Vito.“Yes, why?”
She shakes her head and slumps her shoulders before dropping the curled strand.“It’s just that I heard a lot of stories from my former coworkers.”
I raise an eyebrow.“Did you work in the government too?”