The Celebrity Copycat - A Heartthrob Tale

Prologue

Prologue:

The man followed her at a distance. She was definitely a beauty as she walked on her pink platform heels, her red hair up in a fashionable high pony tail, her little black dress showing off every curve.

She'd played the girl in a movie series earlier this year. She was perfect. The perfect plan. The perfect crime. No one could stop him, now.

He stayed within earshot of his prey, Mikayla, and her friend, Rachel, a young production assistant that he knew in passing. It was amazing how much he learned from eavesdropping.

"Mikayla, just go speak to someone. Anyone," said Rachel. "I brought you here to network. So go network."

If Mikayla wanted to network then this was the place to do it, a wrap party for a big budget film. She was lucky that her friend had brought her as a plus one. Almost all the people here could pull some strings and land her any role she wanted.

"No, Rach, I'm done. No one cares about me. I was in a bunch of TV roles and a stupid Netflix biopic that I only got because I have a passing resemblance to Nori." She was talking about Honoria Fintan, the famous kidnapping victim. Personally, he found her infinitely more attractive than Nori. "It's not like I'm going to speak to the casting directors or producers and make a name for myself."

The girl's friend hugged her, then pulled away.

Rachel said, "Dude, I'm only here because I went to all the parties I could get into and I networked until someone gave me a job. This job. The one that got us into this goddamn party. Hollywood is about who ya know."

"You're the most extroverted person I know."

"Pfft. I used to be an introvert until I met you."

"Well you learned from the best. Of course you'd be good at schmoozing."

"Ya just need some liquid courage, Mik."

Rachel grabbed Mikayla by the shoulder and she jumped at the exuberant physical contact, letting out a small yelp. Mikayla pulled away from her eager friend. The man smiled, she would be fun.

"I've been here for two hours and I'm on my fourth glass," whined Mikayla.

He skimmed her movements. He hadn't noticed till now, but she was definitely drunk. She held her liquor well, but there was something about her movements that should have cued him in to her inebriation.

He looked her over. Without her heels she was short, probably only 5'1 or 5'2. She couldn't have weighed more than 120 lbs. She was probably even lighter. Four drinks at her size . . . he was surprised she was still standing. But it would make her a perfect target.

"Eat something. Then get back out there. The night is young."

"No. My feet hurt. I'm tired. I'm going to get one more drink, I'm going to grab a handful of hors d'oeuvres then I'm going to go home. Then maybe when I wake up I will forget that I'm a complete failure and I will keep trying to succeed in this awful town," she said with a slight slur to her words.

"Mik, please. Stay."

"No. I'm not staying." her voice dropped to a whisper, "Especially not if that asshole is here."

"I didn't know he was going to be here. I swear."

"Well, he is, and I don't want to be anywhere near him. I'm going home. I'll call you in the morning."

The girl downed her drink and skulked off to the bar.

"Vodka cranberry," she said. The bartender turned to make it.

"Mikayla?" asked a young man.

His prey turned. He quickly ducked behind a nearby pillar. He didn't need her catching him now, not when he was so close.

"Anthony," she sneered.

"You're looking good. Very good." The young man, Anthony, was tall, not as tall as he was. And he looked familiar. Probably from researching Mikayla earlier. He definitely hadn't been in the movie.

"I know I look good. Why don't you go suck your own dick. Because I definitely won't do it this time."

The bartender put the vodka cranberry down and turned back around to make another drink, but Mikayla was far to engrossed in her conversation. Now was the time. His heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn't hear anything else.

He stepped away from the pillar and quickly opened the packet that he'd kept in his wallet in case he found a target and poured it in the drink. A quick stir and it was ready.

He moved away and watched the two argue. The beautiful girl was in tears. She finally grabbed her drink and chugged it down. She stormed off towards the exit.

He followed her at a distance. Close enough to not lose sight of her, but far enough that no one would mistake them as being together.

The girl took her phone out of her small purse.

"Stupid Anthony," she murmured as she tapped her phone for an Uber. "I hope he dies in a goddamn fire."

That was his cue to get his car. He quietly went to the valet less than 20 feet from where she was standing and handed them his ticket. A few minutes later they came back with his car.

He drove around the parking lot once then pulled in front of his prey. He rolled down the window.

"Pick up for Mikayla."

"That'sssss meeee," she slurred. She flung open the back door and climbed inside. It only took a few minutes for her to fall asleep.

He merged into the dense LA traffic. It was at a standstill. He slipped on his driving gloves that were usually reserved for long trips out of town or drag racing. He slowly pulled the phone out of her hands. She didn't even flinch. He turned it off and pulled the case off.

As the traffic started moving and the road opened. He sped off, heading for home. He rolled down his window and tossed the phone as hard as he could. Then further down the freeway he threw her phone case.

He sighed contently as he drove off to his home. The perfect crime was underway.