The Billionaire's Amnesia

Five | The Paparazzi

L A Y L A

I felt sick to my stomach as I read the headline on my phone. How could they claim that I had an affair with Jake's bodyguard? It was a false, a malicious and wicked false. But no one would listen to me. Jake knows the truth but why he hadn't come to defend me yet? How could he hurt me like this?

I felt a sharp pain in my chest and dropped my phone on the floor. The next thing I knew, I was lying on a stretcher in an ambulance, hooked up to wires and tubes. The paramedics said I had a panic attack and that I needed to rest.

My boss was kind enough to give me three days of paid leave. He knew I wouldn't take any time off if it wasn't paid. I had bills to pay, rent to cover, and Markle to support. Markle is my aunt and the only relative I had left who worked two jobs just to make ends meet for both of us.

I wished I could stay in bed forever and forget about everything. But I knew I had to face the world again someday. And when that day came, I would have to fight for my reputation, my career, and my love.

I was serving a table of customers when I heard a loud noise at the entrance. I turned and saw them. The paparazzi. They had found me.

They pushed their way inside the restaurant, holding cameras and microphones. They shouted my name and headed toward me.

I felt a surge of panic and dread. I knew why they were here. They wanted to grill me about the scandal that had ruined my life.

The scandal was a lie.

I loved Jake. I really did. He was my first and only love. We met when I was working as a waitress at a local coffee shop down in Santa Monica pier. Back then, he was still small as an artist compared to now. Jake was charming and sweet and he made me feel special.

But our relationship was not easy. His instant fame instantly change him and the fact that he is now a famous pop star and I was a nobody did not help either. He had millions of fans and I had none. He traveled the world and I stayed home.

We grew apart. We argued a lot. We broke up.

But we didn't hate each other. We still cared for each other. We agreed to end things on good terms.

That's why it hurt so much when the paparazzi accused me of cheating on him with his bodyguard.

It wasn't true. It was a misunderstanding.

The man in the photos was not his bodyguard. He was my old friend, Henry. He had come to visit me from out of town and we had gone for a walk in the park.

We were close since high school and we hugged each other affectionately.

It was nothing more than that.

But the paparazzi didn't care about the truth. They only cared about making money off my misery.

They surrounded me like vultures, flashing their cameras and shoving their microphones in my face.

"Layla! Layla! Is it true that you cheated on Jake with his bodyguard?"

"What? No! That's ridiculous!"

"Then why did he dump you on Instagram?"

"He didn't dump me! We broke up amicably!"

"Come on, Layla! Don't lie to us! We have proof!"

They showed me some photos of me and Henry in the park, looking cozy and intimate.

"That's not his bodyguard! That's my old friend since high school!"

"Old friend? Yeah, right!" One of them scoffs in disbelief.

They laughed and mocked me mercilessly. They bombarded me with more questions that cut like knives.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?"

"How does Jake feel about your betrayal?"

"Are you pregnant with his baby?"

I felt tears stinging my eyes as I tried to push them away. But they were too many and too strong.

I felt trapped and helpless.

I looked around for help but no one came to my aid. The customers and the staff watched in silence or amusement.

No one cared about my feelings or dignity.

I sobbed and ran to the back of the restaurant, hoping to find some refuge there. But the paparazzi followed me relentlessly, still shouting and snapping pictures.

I reached the storage room and locked the door behind me. I slid down to the floor and buried my face in my hands.

I sobbed uncontrollably. I felt like my world had collapsed.

How could this happen to me? How could they do this to me?

I heard a knock on the door.

"Layla? Layla, are you okay?"

It was Angie, my best friend, and co-worker. She had been working in the kitchen when the paparazzi invaded.

She was the only person who knew about Jake and me. She was the only person who understood what I was going through.

"Angie, please go away. I don't want to talk to anyone."

"Layla, please let me in. I'm here to help you."

"No, Angie. You can't help me. No one can help me."

"Layla, please don't say that. You're not alone. I'm here for you."

She kept knocking and pleading with me until I gave up and opened the door.

She rushed in and hugged me tightly.

"Oh, Layla. I'm so sorry. This is so unfair."

She stroked my hair and wiped my tears.

"They're lying, Layla. They're lying about everything."

"I know, Angie. But it doesn't matter. They've ruined everything."

"No, they haven't. They can't take away your dignity or your happiness."

"Yes, they can. They already have."

"No, they haven't. You're stronger than them, Layla. You're better than them."

She held my face in her hands and looked into my eyes.

"You're beautiful, Layla. You're smart and kind and brave. You don't deserve this pain."

"Thank you, Angie. You're a good friend."

"You're welcome, Layla. You're my best friend."

We hugged each other again and cried together.

We heard a loud noise outside.

"Hey! Hey! Get out of here! This is private property!"

It was Mr.Brown, our boss. He had come out of his office and saw what was happening.

He grabbed a broom and started swinging it at the paparazzi.

"Go on! Scram! Leave her alone!"

The paparazzi backed off a bit but didn't leave completely.

They still tried to get a glimpse of me through the window.

Mr.Brown noticed them and slammed the window shut.

He locked it and pulled down the blinds.

He turned to us and smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry about that, girls. Are you okay?"

"We're fine, Mr.Brown," Angie said for both of us.

"That's good to hear." He said kindly.

He looked at me with concern and sympathy.

"Layla...I don't know what's going on with you...but if you need anything...just let me know...okay?"

"Okay." I whispered softly.

He nodded and left us alone.