A year has passed. A new album has dropped. My following rose from 500,000 thousand to 10 million. Jake and I have not seen each other, thankfully. My "friends" are gone. My used-to-be long brown hair is now cut into a short bob with bangs. I shrunk two inches, SOMEHOW. I aged. I matured. My world tour was going to start in a month. This has been a long year. I was dealing with the heartbreak and such considerable changes in a short amount of time. Shit changes you; nothing from before was the same now—even my style. Now, I had to do this interview I didn't want. My outfit consisted of loose jeans, a tight unisex shirt that said CHANGE, and my beat-up fawn-colored ankle boots. I was in my seat waiting for this woman to start, which should be any moment now.
"Hi there, guys. I am your host, Tammi Olson. Today, I am here with the amazing Carmela Luciano! We will ask the basics and continue." she looks at me for permission to continue, so I plaster a fake smile and nod. "Wonderful. So start with Age, Ethnicity, sexuality, you know?" She asked, smiling with a hint of deviousness at me. I hated this shit. I hated doing interviews; none of them asked what mattered. Or they would manipulate my words. I lived for my fans; that was it. My family wasn't around; I came out to my very Christian family when I began rising to fame. Immediately being disowned at 16, I became emancipated. 16 was a challenging year for me. I went through a lot, and the only thing that kept me going was my fans.
"I am newly 17. I'm Italian and Dominican. My sexuality is, um, lesbian..." I state uncomfortably that I'm putting my information out there. My fans know that I am very proud to be a lesbian. When I performed, I would dance with the LGBTQ+ flag. To represent me and my fans. But the fact that this bitch -
"So Carmela, tell me, any celeb crushes?" She scoots closer as if that will make me tell her my secrets.
"A few. Harry Styles, absolutely gorgeous that one, Tom Holland, and Finn Wolfhard." I shrug mindlessly, naming some attractive guys that I have met before.
"Any girls?" I let out a deep breath of annoyance. Are you fucking joking? My album went platinum. Twice. I'm only 17. That doesn't matter; all these people want is a story.
"Billie Eilish," I say harshly at her and shift uncomfortably in this stupid fucking chair. I couldn't get her out of my head since the moment in the bathroom. She was a fellow artist—a beautiful one at that. I didn't even know. We never spoke after that interaction, but simple Instagram comments.
"A pretty girl." She suggests and winks at me. Tammi starts to get comfortable as well in her chair. I hate this bitch.
"Very talented she is. Yes." I sass her as she prances on my last fucking nerve.
"So if you're a lesbian, why'd you date Jake Landon?"
That bitch. I haven't heard that name in a year. My lips purse, and I shake my head at this bitch. She needed a punch to the face.
"Because I was still with my family, and I tried to fit their image of me being into guys, forcing myself to become someone I didn't know."
"But-" the director yells cut, and I see my agent, Jade, calling me over. Thank the Lord. I walk over to her quickly, eager to get out of here. I could tell she was not pleased at all. A slight smirk fell onto my lips.
"Saving me?" I ask with raised brows, and she laughs, nodding with anger in her eyes.
"I'll be right out." I hug her and walk out, shaking my head at these idiot people as I go outside and wait for the car to come by. Jade scolded them inside. A girl to my right jumps into my arms.
"Hi!" I shout from surprise and fear, shit that scared me. I hug her tightly while she lets out scattered words and cries.
"I-I love you so much! Can we have a picture?" She asks, shaking, and I pout at how cute she is. She was charming, but I couldn't tell much after that since she was crying.
"Of course, babe. Hey, it's okay. Relax, I love you too." I try to calm her, and we take multiple pictures together. Soon, more people gather around. I try to meet with everyone, but my claustrophobia begins to kick in. My heart started pounding; my breathing was rapid and uneven. Everything was getting closer and spinning; where was Jade or Chris?
"G-guys, p-please... space.." I ask weakly and feel myself fall on the ground. Shouts and crying are heard; this was too much. My eyes flutter open, and I still see people crowding me. "P-p," I start but feel extremely scared and too weak to finish. Soon, Jade's costly perfume fills the air around me, and I know it's okay to close my eyes.
My eyes snap open, my mouth gasping for air, and I look around at my surroundings; I am home on my couch. What the hell happened? My fans. Shit, Jade was going to kill me. The TV in front of me shows CARMELA LUCIANO TRAMPLED BY FANS!
Are you kidding? I immediately go to my phone in my back pocket. Quickly, I go into the Instagram app and try my best to pose for a picture. Just to let my fans know I am okay and not to hate themselves. I look exhausted before I click the button, and my phone is snatched away. I see a fuming Jade with her hands on her hips.
"Do you understand what could have happened to you?" She barked at me with her face a bright red. I knew she wanted to scream at me.
"They're my fans," I say, taking my phone back from her.
"Yeah. Well, keep doing shit like that, i-it's going to kill you." She finished and stomped off; I loved Jade - she loved me. So I understood why she was upset, it's true. Bad shit could have happened. I open Instagram only to receive a message from an unknown number.
Unknown Number
Hey. Are you okay?
Me
Who is this?
Unknown Number
Billie
YOU ARE READING
Letting Go
RomantikkThe bass blasted through the speakers so loudly that my teeth began to chatter. The music and my thoughts swirling together. I couldn't think straight. Anger was the only feeling in my body and when I saw her, I couldn't control myself- -That's how...
