Ticket For Two: A Kizz Daniel Fan Fiction

Prologue

Hi, um...Kizz Daniel, my name is...

'What am I doing? This is stupid, he definitely doesn't care what my name is', I roll my eyes at my own thoughts as I tap the erase button on my phone for what seems like the hundredth time.

The time is a few minutes past midnight and I know I should be sleeping but I'm not, for two reasons, one, I'm a nightwalker and so nighttime is my time and two, I was scrolling through my celebrity crush's Instagram page and I got hit by a crazy idea and as crazy as that idea is I want to explore it because it's not every day my brain blesses me with such crazy ideas, it's like a once in a life time event, like the eclipse or something.

But, I need help to execute this idea to perfection and yes I could just go on the internet and find the help I need but for some reason my brain thinks it's better to get help from the man himself than get it from the internet, so here I am, at ten minutes past twelve o'clock midnight trying to compose a message that would pique his interest, but the same brain that has pushed me this far has decided to desert me when I need it most.

Hi, Mr. Kizz Daniel, I'm an...

Again, I tap the erase button because once again I feel this is stupid. Who knows, maybe he doesn't like being disturbed at twelve in the midnight, like, who even stays awake by this time of the night? And what if he thinks I'm a stalker and trails me with the police and they arrest me and I go to jail or what if he thinks I'm just another irrelevant person trying to get his attention—which let's face it, I am—but I'm doing this for a pretty relevant reason, kinda, it depends on what your definition of relevant is.

I tap the voice record button on my screen to record a message and after about five seconds of breathing and not saying a word, I stop the voice record and delete the stupid recording. I throw my phone on my bunk bed and pace around the average sized room I share with my three roommates and as much as I want to scream in frustration, I can't, because then I'll be waking them up and probably our next door neighbors and their next door neighbors.

So instead of screaming, I walk back to my bed and grab my phone to send a message. It's just one message, how much harm could it cause? Moreover, he doesn't know me and I'm definitely going to keep this little escapade a secret so nobody laughs at me when he doesn't reply me, what have I got to lose really? Nothing!

So with all the courage and determination I can muster, I start typing but stop when I think about the fact that he might not be in the country, maybe he's somewhere outside and our timezones are not the same but I convince myself that even if he's not in the country, he would definitely come back and probably see it. I continue typing but stop again as another thought crosses my mind.

Celebrities usually don't run their social media accounts themselves, they have people typing out their tweets and stuff like that, it's like ghost writing or something. I heave a sigh of relief as that thought hits me, I've been killing myself over him replying when I don't even have to talk to him directly and definitely the person who runs his account can tell me what I want to know since they have to be close for him to run his account.

I erase everything I typed before and start typing again with renewed determination.

Hello there, you who runs Kizz Daniel's account. My name is Chidebem Osita, Dede for short, and I need your help. I'm an author, not like a very popular one like J.K Rowling or Nora Roberts, no, I'm just a regular ol' writer and I was going through your page and got the idea to write a fan fiction about Kizz Daniel but I cannot do that without actual facts about him. So I was thinking that you could maybe provide me with the information I need, I promise it's nothing too personal and I'm not going to use it against him, I just want to write a book to appreciate him in a way. Yeah.

P.S: If y'all don't like the idea, it's okay, I'll back off. Just please don't send the police after me coz you think I'm a kidnapper or a yahoo boy. Thank you ☺️

I hit send and I know there's no going back, technically there is, but I'm not going to delete it, it's not like Kizz Daniel himself is going to see it so there's nothing to worry about.

I see the icon that indicates that he's typing and my heart lunges into my throat. What the heck? My mind begins racing back but before it can race forth, the screen goes quiet and there's no message. I furrow my brows in confusion and disgust, then I hiss lowly. Why get my hopes up when you were not going to reply? With disappointment, I turn off my data and press the home button of my phone.

'So much for trying' I think to myself as I get under my blanket and wait for sleep to drown me.