Red Carpet

Prologue

Locke took a deep breath and paused, the familiar, comforting aroma slowly awakening his senses and driving away the weariness of the week before. Ah, perfect. He could never get tired of brewed coffee.

He glanced at the planner pinned on to the fridge, right next to the kitchen counter. Although his agent would text him in advance and send a reminder about his schedule, Locke still liked to keep track of his activities by himself. There was nothing marked for today. The coffee suddenly tasted sweeter than usual.

With the hot cup still in his hand, he waltzed towards the glass window in the living room. The digital clock hanging on the wall read 5:20 AM. The world outside was gradually lighting up as dawn broke. As always, Locke observed the lazy city over the horizon. Ever since he moved to his uncle's condo last month, located on the outskirts of the city, he had learnt to embrace quiet mornings like this. Time and time, he would be reminded of the city buzz with its sleepless streets and ever blinking lights, but he didn't complain. His agent, Skip, had pointed out that a private neighborhood would be beneficial to keep the paparazzi at bay.

Locke gulped down the last bit of his coffee and placed it in the kitchen sink. He groaned at the dirty pile of stacked dishes that lay untouched. After pondering over it for a while, he shrugged and decided to go on his morning jog instead.

As usual, he put his phone on flight mode while he took the familiar path, his favorite playlist on repeat. By the time he returned, the sun was up over the horizon, a pleasant warmth taking over. Perhaps it was going to be a good day today.

He took a quick shower and once out, he switched on the TV and retired onto the couch, towel drying his hair. He switched between channels aimlessly.

Of course, there's nothing interesting to watch on my day-offs, he sighed.

He straightened as a familiar face popped over a news channel. His muscles stiffened and he fidgeted with the remote to increase the volume.

'...last week. Keeye's agency has yet to make an official statement about the situation. But the pictures are pretty self-explanatory.'

A series of photographs flashed on the screen, one after the other. The grey Mercedes Benz S class was unmistakably Keeye's. Although the surroundings were dark and blurry at the building's underground parking lot, the two faces in the front seats were visible. The man in the driver's seat was someone that Locke had grown familiar with over the past few months. His navy sport jacket looked darker under the car's ceiling light but Locke was sure this was taken right after the promotional event that they had attended together. As for the man in the passenger's seat, he had a mask, so it was hard to guess his identity.

In the next image, the two were too close to each other with the mystery man slightly pulling down his mask as they pulled each other into a kiss. In the consequent photographs, Keeye could be seen getting out of the car, opening the door for the other person, grabbing his hand and rushing into the building.

The reporter continued but Locke was recovering from the shock. He scurried all over the place, frantically searching for his phone.

If this happened last week...

He tried recalling the events after the event. Finally he found his phone which he had mindlessly tossed on to his bed. To his luck, the battery had died and he hurriedly connected it to the charger. The few seconds that it took to turn on felt like forever.

27 missed calls.

Shit!

He called back the most recent contact. The other end picked it up before the second ring.

'Jesus Locke! I called you a million fucking times!'

'Sorry Skip, my phone was on silent.'

'Nevermind, I'm almost at your condo. Be ready in 10, Elle wants us at the company asap!'

'Got it.'

Locke wasted no more time. He hurriedly changed into whatever presentable outfit he could find first. A gray full-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Rummaging through his drawers for his socks and donning his shoes, he rushed out the apartment.

He paused on the stairs, his fingers hovering over the phone screen. He shuffled from foot to foot, wondering if he should text or call. He wasn't sure if his call would be answered due to the situation at hand. After mulling over it a bit, he finally gathered the courage to hit the 'send' button.

To: Keeye

'Hey...Are you okay?'

~ End of Prologue ~

Hey there! Hoping you liked it so far :)

I've been preparing this story since a year now and it feels liberating to finally put it out here! Be on the lookout for the next update ;)

And I have a cover ready, I'll update it soon.

- Guavawine