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Popped Star

Posted on September 26, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

In the largely vacant emptiness of her subconscious Melanie sensed something, like movement in an empty street on a dark night. She didn’t like it in the same way she didn’t like sudden moves from people around her. See, Melanie was the kind of animal that startled easily and she needed to be semi-sedated before her various suitors could have their way with her. The reason her normally vacant stare was showing signs of habitation was that it was morning and she knew there were a few things she had to do before she went for her morning run and took her daily medicine.

She dragged herself out of bed and was immediately cold. The chill that perked up her nipples reminded her that like on most other days, she seemed to have fallen asleep in a heavily air-conditioned room without a stitch of clothing on. She pawed the air around the chair that was usually placed close to her bed and sure enough, her fingers closed around the fluffy robe that was hanging off the back of the chair. She slipped it on and cinched the belt tight around her waist. It was part of the instructions she had memorized ever since she was nineteen (which was either three or seven years ago depending upon whom you asked).

Step One: Pick up any sticky balloons that might be lying around the room. Some of them might have the end tied off and some of them might be oozing a slightly smelly white stuff. It doesn’t matter, shove all of them into the brown paper bag that’s in the first drawer on your left (that’s the hand you wear your wristwatch on) and drop the bag in the dustbin by the elevator. Never drop it into the waste basket in your own room.

Step Two: Shower. Use soap. Wash between your legs. It might feel a little sore, that’s okay. Wash thoroughly, dry yourself with the big towel and put on fresh underwear from the big red suitcase.

Step Three: Push three on your cellphone and let it ring three times. When the nice woman with the makeup knocks on your door, let her in and allow her to do her job.

Step Four: Pick out a cute exercise outfit to wear. Do not mix stuff from the different packages. Each of those outfits makes you look cute. Pick whatever you want. We think the short shorts are the best but you don’t want to get frostbite in winter so the tight track pants are cool too. They make your ass look great.

Step Five: Go on your morning run. Andrew and Carrie will be waiting in the lobby so you don’t have to worry about which way to go. Remember, every pound you put on looks like ten on TV and a hundred on movie screens. Exercise is what makes you happy and keeps you looking cute and sexy like you want to.

And so it went. There were steps and pointers, guidelines and rules for every single minute of her waking day. She sometimes complained that she never had time to think but it worked out nicely in her case because she didn’t have too many thoughts. The thing that worried her a little while she was showering was that her ass hurt in the way it was normally sore in her other place. It happened sometimes but not so often that she worried about it on days other than when it hurt like that. She knew she was running a little late so she put her worries aside and focused on getting really dry after the shower. It was sunny outside so she could pick a short shorts outfit to go jogging. She liked the way her legs looked in all the paparazzi photos when she wore shorts so she was looking forward to going running.

Still she felt weird. That stirring in a forgotten corner of her brain made her so fidgety she nearly got an eyelash brush in the eye. The makeup woman was stern and she went absolutely still in the way she did when Melanie did something she didn’t approve of.

By the time she reached the lobby, Andrew and Carrie were looking extremely agitated. With a small smile she jogged through the lobby and outside into the Canadian sunshine. The two of them followed and she felt a tiny wave of déjà vu as she wondered, yet again, if Andrew and Carrie were a couple. She wondered whether they had sex before going to sleep at night. Daddy had told her that she should be a virgin until she was married because the fans wouldn’t like her as much if she had sex with any boy who asked her out. Daddy also said that she looked really sexy in black and orange. She didn’t like orange, she would much rather have worn more pink but Daddy said orange made her stand out from all the other girls she was competing with. Since they all wore pink Daddy thought she should wear orange.

The guys with the cameras ran forward to get a good shot and she focused on running fast enough to look like she was actually running while going slow enough for the guys with the cheaper cameras to get good shots. The morning sun warmed her face while the cool air perked up her nipples enough to give the paparazzi something to deliver to the gossip blogs. She couldn’t wait for the pictures to go online because she really liked the outfit she had picked.

She got really annoyed when somebody shoved her, really hard. She turned around to scold Andrew (or was it Carrie?) for bumping into her like that but before she could say anything, she got shoved again, this time in the left boob. She was surprised because no one was standing in front of her so she looked down and saw the huge red stain spreading across her cute white tank top.

She lost her balance and fell on her ass. That didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. But she was getting really sleepy. Hadn’t she slept already? Why was her tank top stained like she had left an ink pen in there? Had she left an ink pen in there?

What a silly question. Why would she need a pen to go running?

The news of Melanie Michaels’s death made headlines in the news media of one hundred and seven nations. Her albums, which had sold just under four million copies worldwide in her lifetime, sold nearly thirteen million more in the months after her death. The sniper was never found. On her first death anniversary, her younger sister announced that she would be launching her own musical career to honor the memory of her late sister.

Unlike Melanie, Andrea wanted to write and produce her own material. She was also certain she didn’t want to sing pop or remain a virgin until she was married. She became twice as big a star as her sister had ever been.

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