Chapter 42

I tried to get that dream out of my mind. I tried to get Barnett out of my mind. Neither worked.

I relived the sex, the pleasure it had brought me, over and over. I contemplated Barnett’s disappearance after the labor and what it meant. But mostly, I thought about that baby boy.

I knew he wasn’t real, and yet the fact that I could not hold him again brought me great sadness. He represented everything I didn’t get to have before and everything I still would not be able to have. Even if there were some way to get past the infertility Bob always said I had, I had months—weeks—left to live and could never carry a healthy baby to full term.

The only way I could force these thoughts from my mind was through exercise. Unfortunately, I was finding it harder and harder to get to Stand Up. The distance from my new home was a struggle, and the fans—oh, the fans!

If I had known just how much my fame would grow after the Freyja commercials dropped, I might not have agreed to them. I could hardly get into Stand Up because of all the fans who had come to see me! If it hadn’t been so frustrating, the paradoxical nature of the situation would’ve been funny.

So, to keep up with my exercise and my vlog, I decided to make one of the extra bedrooms in my new house into a home gym, just for those days when I couldn’t make it to Stand Up.

I mentioned the idea to Arthur in passing. He immediately volunteered his services to help me put together the equipment. I knew I couldn’t turn down such a generous offer, so I said yes.

That Saturday, Arthur swung by around 10 a.m. for us to get started. It turned out that I knew more about tools and putting things together than the little rich boy did, so Arthur essentially just did whatever I told him to exactly the way I told him to do it. Soon, we got into our own rhythm and began to talk.

“So, how’s fame treating my little fan?” Arthur asked as he worked on the treadmill.

I huffed as I screwed in the rack for the weights.

“You mean other than the stalker who I’m now going to have to testify against? Or maybe you mean the mob of fans who are keeping me from going to my gym?”

I grinned sarcastically.

“Just peachy.”

Arthur laughed nervously.

“I mean besides that. You’re in a nationally syndicated commercial, after all. Isn’t that even a little cool?”

I shrugged.

“Well, yeah.”

“And Freyja gives you free merch, right? Isn’t that a perk?”

“I suppose. Their shoes are pretty kick-ass.”

Arthur laughed whole-heartedly this time.

“See? And having fans isn’t all bad. Don’t you like the adulation?”

“Sometimes. The gifts are nice, I guess. And it’s nice seeing all the positive comments to my videos.”

I stopped screwing the rack midway.

“But that’s also how I got my stalker. I had to move residences because of my fame.”

My voice cracked. When he saw my distress, Arthur raised his hands defensively.

“I’ll admit, there are some downsides to fame. There are some crazy people in this world, but that’s the risk that we take when we put ourselves out there.”

“But to have to uproot my life entirely?”

“Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration? You’re in the same city, and you still have all your same styling clients—”

“I loved living in that apartment, Arthur! And I loved going to Stand Up! But fame has taken both of those away from me!”

I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks, but I let them flow unchecked.

“I let it take my sense of security away from me. Even with these 24/7 guards, I’m still scared that someone will get past them and get to me. If it happened at the apartment complex, why can’t it happen here?”

Arthur, for once, looked speechless.

“I…it’s different here, Anna. No one knows you live here except for your close friends, and the security guards are focused entirely on guarding you, no one else. You won’t slip through the cracks this time.”

I could tell just how desperately he wanted me to believe him, how desperately he wanted me to believe that fame isn’t that bad. Yet with all of my experiences so far, how was I to believe anything else?

“Why do you love fame so much?” I practically spat. I immediately regretted my tone, but I knew I couldn’t take it back, so I let my question sit as it was.

Arthur blinked, surprised, as though he had never been asked that question before.

“I just…I do. Everyone does. I guess…it’s all about the love, you know?”

No, I didn’t know. Outside of the people I’d formed a community with in the comments on my vlogs, I couldn’t feel this fame-based love that Arthur was talking about. It didn’t feel like love—real love.

I sighed and threw down my wrench.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m doing this whole fame thing wrong.”

I sat down on the floor next to my new set of weights. Arthur soon joined me.

“Anna, I wish I could say that I knew what it was like to be in your shoes,” he started in the most serious tone I had heard from him since we had met, “but I can’t. I grew up in money, and I’ve been an influencer for a long time. However, I can imagine that it’s tough, going from a so-called ‘normal life’ to one like this.”

I gave him a sideways glance. I could see why women were always clambering for him. Even in a simple V-neck shirt and pre-ripped jeans, he was a handsome man.

He continued, “But I also know how strong you are. If you really want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. I know you will.”

I smiled slightly.

“Thanks, Arthur.” I paused. “How do you handle the fame?”

Arthur smirked.

“Who says I do?”

“Well, it seems like you do.”

“Acting, Anna. Always acting. No matter how I’m feeling on the inside, I make people think that I have it all put together.”

And that’s a good thing? I thought.

“You do a pretty good job of it,” I said.

Arthur wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in for a side-hug.

“Thanks, my little fan girl.”

As I leaned into him, I thought I could feel Arthur’s ribs underneath his shirt. My mind drifted back to the night when Arthur nearly fainted from a lack of food. Maybe he didn’t have things so well put together, after all.

•* *

Between talking, meal breaks, and me having to show Arthur how to use tools properly, it took us over 12 hours to put all the equipment together. I should have just hired someone to do it. Hindsight is 20/20.

With it being so late once we finished, I insisted that Arthur stay the night on my couch. Surprisingly, he was okay with that. Perhaps even a little excited, for some reason that I could not decipher.

I got Arthur situated with a blanket and pillow before going to bed myself. After such a long day, it took me no time at all to fall asleep.

At 3 a.m., I jolted awake to the sound of male screaming.

“No! No!”