Paranoia (J)

I missed my twenty bucks.

Though I’d accepted Grace’s offer to live with her—something I was still reeling about—I couldn’t have imagined it lasting for two fucking weeks! Don’t get me wrong, I loved living with my Sky. That first night, I’d woken up with her snuggled in my arms, and I already knew she’d snuck in there late in the evening. As punishment, I had refused to get out of bed until she opened her eyes, too content to let her go. That had made our breakfast late, but damn if it wasn’t that much sweeter because of it.

But while Grace was wonderful, her fans were definitely far from that. When I’d gone back for more of my shit the next day, a reporter had cornered me with some dumbass questions. Why would I care about the time my girlfriend gave attitude to Kilson Caine? That guy was an asshole anyway!

Four days into it, I’d decided I was bored with vacation and went into work. I clocked in, went to the front, and enjoyed the peace that came from an empty lobby. As if summoned by the gods of ‘who asked’, the first arrival came in, griping at me about how I wasn’t good enough for Grace, and that I was ruining her. Brushing that off, I tried to keep working, but nearly every fucking arrival was like this. If it wasn’t snide comments, it was attitude cranked up to nine-thousand or, in one case, a man taking an excruciatingly long time to pull his wallet out of his pocket. Like, I can see the thing in your hand. Being doxed didn’t make me blind!

Seeing my distress, my boss had me take a breather in the back. While I was out, three people asked for me, and that’s how I learned that my workplace was now listed on TT’s Tea now. Why they waited until the worst fucking possible time is something only their twisted ass would know, but I wasn’t a fan. On the one hand, my boss let me take more time off so I wouldn’t get harassed every five seconds, but this shit was really getting on my nerves.

The damn website kept adding stuff, too. Bit by bit, they revealed random bits of our lives. We’d gone to the police, but they couldn’t track the culprit, which was truly comforting for my future. They’d promised to try getting the website taken down, but that’d been useless when the creator just kept adding it back. I was already prepared to change my phone number whenever they got a hold of that, my emails, too. I just hoped my family stayed out of the crossfire.

I wasn’t sure when it’d started, but I had somehow ended up putting on poses for the pictures. I made myself look buff, tough, and unbothered. I could see white behind my eyes, but it was depressingly funny to see those people tripping over themselves to get a good shot. Once I got tired, I made up some reason for them to let me through. One time, I actually said ‘Oh look! A lame excuse!’ and it fucking worked.

The pressure was a lot, and it gave me a new respect for what Gracie did. I only had to hold out until they got tired of it. She did this shit full-time, came home, and still had the energy to work late into the night. I wished I knew how to make her not work herself to death, but I also understood that the distraction helped. She was likely still blaming herself for all of this, and no amount of reassurance was going to stop that. I knew I was fine after all this, but I had to make sure my Sky was still standing.

Was I followed? No, I’d taken a detour to make sure of it. Shaking the thought, I passed into Grace’s kitchen.

Did I lock the door? Of course I did. I’d double-checked it to be sure of that.

But was I really ‘sure’?

Nothing like exposure to get the paranoia running, and I’d felt it a lot these past weeks. On the one hand, it was good to know that my car was locked and I was paying attention and shit, but my mind kept trying to tell me I was being stalked or that I was going to turn that corner and be attacked or some shit. No matter how careful I was, the voice wouldn’t fuck off! But because fate wanted to screw me more, my phone rang the moment I’d gotten my mind to chill and it just came right back. Was it my boss, telling me I should seek employment elsewhere? Was it a fan who’d gotten my damn number? Fuck, I should just check it and get this shit over with!

Oh, it’s mom. “Yeah?”

“Hey, sweetie,” came her voice. But she had that tone of someone about to ask for something. “How’s it going?”

What was she after? Was she going to ask for money now that she knew I was dating a superstar? No, that wasn’t why we hadn’t told her. I was just really bad at remembering to talk about that sort of thing. My parents had raised me to never take charity, so that wasn’t her goal. Maybe she just wanted to talk.

“It’s fine,” I replied. “How are you?”

“Great.” She paused. “You know, some of my coworkers tell me you have a girlfriend?”

There it was. “Yeah, sorry about that. I just blanked on telling you. My bad.”

“Can I meet her?”

I’d forgotten about that little bit. While my dad didn’t really care much when I was with a girl, my mom was the interrogating type. I wasn’t sure how Grace would do with that, but it was better she did it than my sister. Lacy was. . . particular with that sort of thing. Either way, I wasn’t going to commit until I knew my Sky was okay with it.

“I’ll ask her,” I said carefully.

“What’s wrong with her?”

I blinked. “What?”

“What’s wrong with this girl that I can’t meet her?” Protective mode was active.

“No, no, no,” I assured her, “it’s not that. I just wanted to make sure she was free. She’s kind of a busy person.”

“Is she leaving you for work?”

“No, mom. She’s been great, but her job can add a lot of stress. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

Oh, like the stress she caused when she let her fans trample you?”

That was last week, when I’d made the mistake of going to Grace’s favorite coffee shop to buy her a drink. The blog had put the place on the map the day before, so people were clamoring to get a taste of it. It looked like the owner was happy for the business, but I didn’t like being groped and hammered with questions. No, I wasn’t going to tell you if she had any drama with other celebrities. No, I wouldn’t give her your number. It somehow bothered me more that my mother knew about that incident.

“Mom, she can’t control her fans.” I tried to sound reasonable, not nearly as defensive of my girlfriend as I was feeling.

“Well, she should do something,” my mother said. “My son doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.”

I wanted to be irritated, but I knew this came from a place of love. I wished she wouldn’t do this, but no amount of telling her to chill could stop her mother mojo from trying to protect me. At least she was better than when I was a kid. Once in the fourth grade, I’d come home crying because another kid stole my lunch. The dark expression on her face made the tears back up in terror. The next day, my mom walked me to school, found the kid’s parents, and had him apologize. I didn’t make that many friends that year, but at least she had my back.

So I changed the topic. “How’s dad?”

I could see her relax through the phone. “Oh, he’s fine. Started fixing the bathroom ceiling, actually.”

We talked like that for a while. Lacy’s tuition was pretty high, but she’d gotten a good job to pay for it. The house was paid off, and my parents were looking to renovate. My dad joined the conversation, and we chatted for a bit. Everyone was fine, though my mom wished she could see me more. Then I realized I’d been standing there talking for half an hour, so I told her I had to go.

“You sure you’re okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, mom.”

I didn’t tell her that I was staying with Grace, or the fact that I was stuck not working for the time being. I wouldn’t mention the paranoia—the last thing I wanted was for her to freak out. I couldn’t tell dad or I’d get a ‘when I was your age’ rant. But since it wasn’t a big deal anyway, I let it drop with the call, moving through the house to greet my Sky.