Page 1 of Yellow
PROLOGUE
The Rude Man
Chloe
The bar was humming with white noise and occasional high-pitched laughter from people who had come to celebrate Christian’s birthday. My successful, generous, and popular friend attracted interesting people, and on the guest list were several celebrities such as star athletes, YouTube bloggers, business people, and one A-list Hollywood star –me. There were also a few that had followed Christian from his high school days.
I knew him from back in the day when Christian was a chef and I was a waitress – back when we formed a friendship that had been one of the few to survive my transition into Hollywood fame.
To everyone here I was Cleo, the award-winning movie star they knew from the big screen and endless magazine covers. In this room, I was the one with the most Twitter followers and biggest scandals.
“Can I have your autograph?” a young woman asked me, and as the trained actress I am, her request was like that of a director shouting “Action.”
I smiled, asked her name, and signed the piece of paper she handed me while chatting a bit about how she knew Christian. All in my fake British accent that had followed me since my agent told me to act sophisticated.
Over the years, a few newspapers had raised questions why a girl from Spokane, Washington, would speak with an English accent, but my agent, Jane, had concocted some story about being influenced by English family members.
It was true that my mom did have a sister in England, but I’d only met her twice and she spoke with a pronounced American accent.
Being “Cleo” meant putting on the make-up, wearing designer clothes, and always smiling for the cameras.
When my phone buzzed in my hand, I moved to the corner and turned my back on the crowd.
“Hey, Babe,” I said in a honey-sweet voice while my shoulders tensed up.
“Where are you?” my boyfriend Niko asked gruffly.
“At a birthday party.”
“Whose party?”
“Just a friend’s.”
“Cleo, tell me who the fuck’s party you’re at,” Niko exclaimed impatiently.
“Christian’s,” I said in a small voice and looked over my shoulder, seeing all the happy faces.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from that homo?” He scoffed.
“But he’s my friend and it’s his birthday.” I left out that Christian was very straight and always surrounded by beautiful women. Instead I used my number one tactic and changed the subject. “Are you still in Florida?”
“Yeah. We’re leaving for New York tomorrow. I’ll meet you there, but just so you know: I won’t have much time. I have a busy interview schedule before the concert.”
“Oh, okay – well, maybe then I shouldn’t come. I was thinking of going back to LA.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He raised his voice. “Playing in Maddison Square Park is the highlight of our tour and you’re going to miss it?”
“But you said playing in Austin at that big stadium was the highlight, and I was there, remember?”
“Austin is my home town. Of course that’s special, but babe, this is New York.”
I was quiet and sighed deeply. “It’s just that I talked to Faith and she said that maybe I should slow down a bit.”
“What did I tell you about your sister, babe? She doesn’t get you like I do. She doesn’t understand the pressure of being famous or living our kind of lifestyle. Don’t talk to her, talk to me, okay?”
“But she’s my twin.”
“Babe, how many times has she made you cry with her petty jealousy and judgmentalness? She doesn’t appreciate you and I’m sorry, but sister or not, you don’t need people like that in your life.”
