Chapter 1


July 7th, 2013.



Something made me look up to see a flock of birds gracing the perfectly blue sky in harmony. It was a bright and sunny afternoon, where all the stars were aligned, everything went without a hitch, and it was those kinds of afternoons that make you feel lucky to be alive. Eying the birds, I wondered for a random, brief moment what they sounded like and for a second realized that it had been a long time since I'd had the peaceful environment to sit back, relax, and just look up at the sky listening to them.

I couldn't hear them now, and was jostled forward by our team, or rather, a village. That's what it took to make this thing work. Hair stylist on deck to make sure we still looked okay, personal assistant to remind us for the umpteenth time that day's schedule, and manager somewhere in the back to keep us in check.

My name is Ben Walker, and my life was not ordinary, at least that's what most people told me. And I'd been told many things about my life. See, people loved to analyze my life a lot. I guess because it was 'unusual'. I was a 'rarity'.

I'd been called lucky. I'd been told the life I led was charmed.

I'd been told that I won the lottery.

I was a celebrity in the age of celebrity worship.

But with great worship comes great disdain.

Not all their opinions of my life were positive. I was also reminded how undeserving I was. Even described as an entitled bastard. And the one that cut the most: untalented.

It was one thing to say that I didn't deserve all the fame and fortune I'd attained. I could easily disproof that: I'd worked my but off, having not had longer than a four days off for the last three years. My team and I worked harder than anyone we knew, so if anyone tried to contest that, I was confident in the truth of my hard work.

What got to me was when I was branded untalented. While I knew that yes, that was subjective, as a people pleaser, it was hard for me to accept someone's dislike of me. Every time I thought I was getting better at not caring about outsiders' validation, an incident would occur to harshly remind me that I was worse off than before.

And generally, it was easier to believe a negative than it was a positive.

Another thing I hated was to be called rude, which wasn't common when people talked about me, but people believed that more than what went around that I was a 'nice guy'. But being labeled a nice guy had its cons too, because many people at times branded you a 'try hard' or 'fake'. I was also labeled a man whore, which I never thought would bother me as much as it did once it began.

All of these assumptions swirled around the image that was created by this funny thing called fame.

I was standing about with my group members as we were told where to position ourselves. I was in a group called A-Live--I know that was not as creative but it stuck and was now a household name in Hollywood. While all the fans were screaming at us, there was no denying whose name was being screamed out the most.

Why this felt a bit different though was in addition to the fans' screams were the press calling out my name instead of the group name. This had never happened before and it filled me with discomfort...and an underlying feeling of accomplishment that I swear I tried to control but I couldn't.

It was like a demon that lived inside of me.

I'd be lying if I said deep down inside it didn't make me feel good to be a fan favorite. I couldn't deny that, as awful as it was. But I would never admit it to anyone, and any time I admitted it to myself, I'd push the thought far away and force myself to be humble with the reminder that a fan's adoration and fame were both fleeting things.

Suddenly, our private assistant began pulling me away from the group.

"You're wanted here."

"No, but--" I began but the screams already loudened when I was away from the group and I looked at them helplessly but didn't have much time to gauge their expressions because the cameras began to flash incessantly, nearly blinding me.

That meant it was game on.

"BEN! THIS WAY! LOOK HERE!!"

This is where the unmatched sensation needles in. Just like a drug rushing through one's veins. I could not help the feeling of greatness that spread through me once the cameras flashed and my name was called.

Although the guilt of leaving my band mates was inside of me, it could not contest this unparalleled feeling.

The feeling of celebrity.

Fame was all about smoke and mirrors. It was all about image. I could not reveal that there was trouble in paradise, and in my mind I made myself believe that there was no trouble in paradise.

So I smirked cockily at the cameras as they blinked from all corners, trying to suppress my swelling ego. This was the life. To be a rock star, revered and hated by many. Right now, all I could feel, hear, and see was unbidden adulation. So words of me being untalented, rude, and undeserving didn't faze me now.

And neither did the guilt…for now.

This is the most attention I'd gotten from the media since we came back out and I knew it was because of a high profile relationship I'd just gotten out of a few weeks ago.

"BEN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! MARRY ME!!!" Someone screamed from a distance and I grinned, creating a wave of even more screams.

My personal assistant ushered me further along the crimson red carpet to a waiting reporter. The microphone they held had the logo of a major media outlet, so I knew it was time to put my PR training on. And I had mastered it enough to know how to make it all look natural.

I was a pro at this game.

"Hello, there. How are you? Jamie, right?" I shook the heavyset woman's hand and always reveled in the surprise of the interviewers I did this with. I'd garnered a good reputation of shaking the hand of most crew members I met wherever we went. It added to my humility and my down to earth nature: something a celebrity needed to have to stay likable.

This, among many other aspects of my nature, made me a media darling.

"Wow! I can't believe that you remembered me!" She was genuinely stunned and I enjoyed every minute of it.

"How could I forget? You look lovely today," I said admiringly as I slid my eyes down her full-figure back to her pretty face and watched her cheeks turn pink.

This was so fucking easy. I knew deep down I could have her for the night if at the snap of a finger, but not enough time. And I had other conquests in mind but no one would ever know.

My brother Henry loved to dub me a cheeky, crafty bastard.

"Okay, loverboy. That's enough," My assistant, Shirley Kingston, nudged from behind me.

"Did you have any questions for him today?" Shirley asked her impatiently. Her wavy dark brown hair framed her oval-shaped face. Grey eyes sat behind her red specks and her firmly set lips were tinged in pink lipstick that day. If it was up to me I'd have grabbed her and kissed her for being so fucking sexy but Shirley was one of the 'look but don't touch' types.

She was a bit on the heavy side, but that had never stopped me from ogling her despite smaller women being more of my time. Shirley had the kind of confidence to challenge an entire nation and that always made me weak in the knees. There was something quietly sexy about her that always made me want her. I'd had a crush on her for the longest because she wasn't easy. Shirley had come on board about a year ago. Initially, I didn't like her too much because she was far too serious.

I couldn't stand people who took themselves too seriously, but as time drew on, I grew to appreciate her extreme professionalism. Honestly, the bigger we got, the more responsibilities we had and she helped keep all of us in check. She was another conquest I had tried but failed at miserably. Every single time.

She was here strictly for business even though I knew that deep down her heart of stone had melted for me. But that's because I'd fought to get her to soften up to me.

No woman was unattainable if you tried hard enough. I had never met a woman who didn't eventually say yes to me. The road to snag her up may not always be the same, but there was always a way to get there.

Mark my workds.

I knew now that Shirley had some kind of feelings for me, try as she might to deny it, but my attention and hunger to sac her was long gone. I was already on to the next.

I got bored easily.

And I found that the chase was far more thrilling than the catch.

I liked the challenge.

She detested me for it silently, the fact that I had made her fall for me without fully reciprocating her feelings, but she would never outwardly tell me and I would never press the issue.

"Could you hurry it up?" Shirley pressed Jamie.

Flustered, Jamie stuttered, the first few questions before wearing her professional hat and carrying on normally.

I got through the questions smoothly, sidestepping the prying into my personal life with the craftiness of a fox.

Finally my mini-solo interview was complete and I was led into the building of the prestigious Ova theater, fans screaming because for most of them this was the closest they'd ever get to me. I wished I could hug and thank all of them for what they'd done.

"Aye mates, sorry about that," I said awkwardly now that I was among my band mates. Things never used to be this awkward. They really had no reaction to what I said, and I had no time to pay it any mind. It was show time and in no time we were seated in the theater, lost in the craze of Hollywood award shows.

Ultimately, we ended up having so much fun at the show, but that didn't mean things went perfectly. We won song of the year, a fan voted award, and were booed to the high heavens.

This was the deal: we were seen as a bubble gum pop group despite the fact that our music leaned more towards pop rock. The reason why we were hated by the majority is because, I guess we had just become too big for anyone's good. We were too 'lucky' to be here. We weren't 'good' and just a 'fad' according to many people. We were not musical prodigies, and it had taken each of us a while to find our niche in music. We didn't play instruments initially when we first debut, because truthfully our success was somewhat accidental.

We never proclaimed to be experts in music or showmanship, and I think people hated the fact that because we didn't take ourselves too seriously, we still had a massive fan base.

In fact, an article just came out a few days ago that the tour we had this past year was one of the highest grossing…of all time. 

Life was treating us pretty well, and some people hated our guts for it. My band mates all said their thank yous, and it was finally my turn. The cheers and the boos greatened. Before this would have made me want to hide and cry.

All I could do was smile as I soaked it all up.

"I just want to thank--"

I had to stop myself because the cheers got even louder. I laughed as I stood back, seeing that my band mate Jacob laughing along with me.

They were screaming because of my speaking voice. Us Walker men were said to have signature deep voices that apparently drove women crazy.

"Carry on, Mate," Daniel said as he patted my back encouragingly. I stepped to the microphone again.

"I want to thank the fans for voting for us." This times I tried to talk over the roaring because it was time to move along to the next portion of the show. "We love you all dearly and you're the only reason why we are up here today." I held up the glass award. "Massive thanks. Love you all."

A deafening round of applause went throughout the entire room, drowning out the boos, and try as I might to deny it, I felt very gratified. I felt accepted.

The cheer of the crowd was when I felt most high.

The night went on pretty smoothly, and was going to my favorite part of these things: after parties.

Award show after parties were always ace. We got to meet celebrities that we'd only seen on our TV and computer screens growing up. Being in the industry so many years, it wasn't too much of a shock to see them anymore, at least for the other members. Admittedly, I loved meeting celebrities. I loved being a part of that circle. The A-list.

I would never admit it to anyone and tried to tell myself I didn't care. But deep down, I did.

I'd played into this celebrity game so much because I simply loved it. I had dated other famous starlets for the sake of increasing my status. 

And I had done it shamelessly well. But what was funny was that even as plotted as those relationships were, the women always fell in love with me. My mother called it the curse of the charm. Even celebrities that had previously shown venomous hate towards my group and I always stated that I 'wasn't so bad after all' after meeting me.

The after party was held in a dimly lit room. As much as my group and I loved one another like brothers, we were all still pretty independent. Not all stayed for the after party and those that did veered in their own directions.

I'd discarded the black blazer I'd been wearing and was walking around in my navy blue shirt, which was buttoned down my chest because of how warm it had become. With a bottled water in hand, I'd miraculously found some alone time to just walk around and browse.

It didn't take long for me to have my eye on my current object of desire: a new actress that had just received an Oscar nomination for a timeless performance in that year's breakout movie. She was gorgeous with dark skin and short hair. She was an unmatched beauty and stood out because she didn't look like the often hailed beauties of Hollywood: the typical blond hair and pale skin.

I surveyed my prey for a few moments like I did all the rest. Men usually approached women without tact and wondered why even the most uncouth man could pick the most beautiful woman in the room. According to me, I was an average joe when it came to looks despite what the magazines and fans said. Jacob in our group was one of the best looking men according to a wide consensus, but I was the one dubbed the most charming.

It's because I watched and learned first before I pounced. A woman appreciated a man who knew more about her than just how tiny her waist was in ratio to her hips. And I could tell a lot about a person just by watching how they carried themselves.

Henry had always told me that was the one of the most important lessons a person could learn: especially in the industry that I was in.

Just as I was about to go move in for the kill, a manly hand slid around her waist and drew her close. My eyes narrowed in disappointment, but not for long. Even those brief ten minutes I had to myself were a miracle to come by. I was already swamped by some seasoned celebrity, asking me to take part in something they were doing because we were the hottest now. Everyone wanted us, especially me, on everything.

We took pictures that would be all over the internet in a matter of minutes I was sure.

It was all about being seen. Always being seen.

And as much as I loved it, it could be a bit taxing.

I wanted some more time alone. After doing shows back to back this after party was our chance to get a semblance of a breather but even these appearances had become work. I needed time to think and ruminate over all of our accomplishments and just life in general. I also hadn't had any alone time in a week. We'd stopped by this award show in the middle of our North American tour.

I finally stole some time away by excusing myself to the bathroom. When I was out, I was lucky to find no one within close proximity of me. Our dedicated fans even managed to bypass security at these award shows and found out where we were or where we were going to be, even before we did. It was kind of unnerving to think about at times.

When the coast was clear, I went down the hallway, dodging as many people as I could until I got to the staircase Nate, one of my band mates, had told me about. I walked up the quiet, dimly lit stairs, on my way to a secluded, secret area that Nate discovered at the Ova. I'd been there before and had appreciated the silence. The sanity. There was absolutely no one in this area. No security. No cameras. And no fans. I always came to this place whenever we were here, to get a breather from the craziness of fame and celebrity.

When I opened the door to the top floor I welcomed the cool blast of air and stillness that met met me in contrast to the hot air and frenzied party I'd just left.

Sighing deeply, I stepped out to this secret spot of mine, my sanctuary, the only place I could be myself. I combed my fingers through my hair and held my head for a second.

If I was honest with myself, I didn't like the person I'd become and was becoming. I didn't like how much I needed the attention. How much I survived off of it.

I didn't feel adequate without validation.

I hated myself for it.

But I took these quiet moments to appreciate everything I'd gained. Everything I'd amassed. This life wasn't perfect, but it was far better than any other life I'd have ever imagined living.

I never thought I'd be able to stand on a stage and have a sea of fans waving right to left with me, enjoying the special moment with me. I was blessed. And I was grateful. Anytime I reminded myself of this, a calm and happiness would fill me, and I'd remember all the great memories that had come with this price of fame.

Regardless of everything, I knew that if I died today, I would die happy, for most if not all of my dreams had come to fruition in my 20 short years of life. 

When I opened my eyes again, letting my arms fall heavily to my sides, I walked further ahead so that I could stand on the edge of the building. I'd anticipated watching what I knew would be an amazing panorama of the flickering lights of Hollywood.

Only, what I saw was an image that changed my life.

Just in one quick second, an entire 360 occurred.

I saw you standing at the edge of the tall building, and my eyes widened slowly in realization of what was happening.

The moment I saw you it was like my heart screeched to a halt and stopped. I don't remember breathing after that. Life seemed to have come to a stand still and it was almost like I was no longer alive, having fallen into hell in one fallen swoop.

You saw me and your eyes seemed to mirror mine as the widened in shock before turning into guarded eyes.

"Stay back!" you screamed, your eyes wet, but no tears racing from them.

I didn't really have a chance to take your appearance in or have much of a first impression because I was in too much of shock.

Had I walked on the set of a TV show or movie? I looked around to see if we were the only ones there. There were no lights, camera, or action.

This was real life.

It was just you, me, and the stars in the black sky that night.

This felt like an out of body experience. It's like I'd stepped into another universe in some strange way. How had I come from a life filled with jubilation, excess, celebration, excitement, and brightness to a world of stillness, quietness, eeriness, and darkness.

'Tis the thing about life. We are all one second away from a life-altering experience.

As shock seized me, the reality of the situation began to spread into my mind. You were standing on the edge of the cliff; one step away from ending it all.

My heart seemed to liven up once again after a few moments, thumping violently in my chest. The same adrenaline I'd gotten from being on stage and hearing those screams raced through my veins now. Without thinking, I stepped forward.

The same adrenaline that flushed through my veins when I was heralded a hero for simply being a famous man off of no real merit flushed through me now as I felt my heroics of whether I could save a human life or not.

"Wait! Please!" Desperation reeked from my voice like a man begging for his last breath when faced with the fragility of life.

I had gone from wanting so badly to win an award, just so that we could gain respect and adulation, having never wanted something so bad. And the feeling had returned, only it was compounded with fear and a panicked desperation I had never felt before. Not even when I so desperately wanted to win the singing show position that had given me the blessed life I lived now.

But when I looked at you, I saw that your mind was made up. How was I going to stop you? How had this become the most important goal I'd ever tried to reach to in my 20 years of life?

"I can't wait any longer. I'm tired."

Your voice was the emptiest I'd ever heard.

You seemed so disoriented and distraught. I had never seen the living dead until that night when I met you. Your black hair was wild over your face and around your shoulders.You were bundled in multiple clothes, far too warm for the weather.

"It doesn't have to be this way," I said, not really sure of what I was saying. All I knew then, all I was programmed to feel or think, was that I had to save you. My main goal was to save you.

For your sake. And for mine.

"No situation is permanent," I began to ramble, desperation taking control of me, even forcing me to take another apprehensive step forward. That only seemed to inflict you with more wounds for you balked up, clutched your eyes and held up your hands signaling me to stop.

"Please just stop. Stop," you said weakly.

You had clearly heard all this before.

It made me panic just thinking my words wouldn't be enough to stop you. It was silly of me to compare how easily my fans believed every word that fell from my lips. How many women fell for my lines. I didn't even have to try.

Yet, with you, words did not seem to be enough.

I took a daring step forward hoping you wouldn't step back, and your body tensed even more, your eyes widening with alarm.

"I won't stop unless you stop." I said with so much conviction and another daring step you were not the only one that I shocked. I shocked myself as well.

"If you step closer I'll jump," You warned, finally showing me some kind of emotion: anger and irritation.

I was now only a few feet away from you, give or take three steps. I was standing to your right, and you were looking at me with such distrust. You were shaking despite the fact that it wasn't too cold. Honestly, you looked like a ticking time bomb.

But, something wouldn't allow me to give up.

"Okay. I'll stand here till I die if it means you not jumping. Just please don't jump," I implored quietly, my voice cracking at the knot in my throat.

When I saw that I'd finally gotten a reaction out of you, I continued on relying on the adrenaline swimming within me and took another step, but this made you inch away and a wave of terror went through me. I stared at you wide eyed. Fuck. What if you had taken the step forward and not sideways?

You would be gone by now. I gnawed at my lip, knowing I had bitten more than I could chew. But I'd put myself in this now.

There was no getting out.

"It doesn't have to end this way. Please," I continued, watching as you stared down. I dared not look down. This was a dark section of the building and i knew no one could see us or else something would have been said by now.

Your eyes watered and you broke eye contact, looking down at your hands.

The fact that you were considering my words, the fact that emotion and life began to show on your face was a sign of hope. I'll never forget it. Like a land that had suffered a long drought finally getting its first rain in years, life began to slowly flush into you no matter how sorrowful.

"Come to me," I muttered quietly and your eyes flashed towards me in surprise. And confusion. I held out my hand, hopefully. Desperately.

Confusion clouded your features even more now. You gnawed at your bottom lip and drew your eyebrows together as you averted your gaze between my hand my eyes.

It must have been only seconds but it felt like decades before you finally moved. I held my breath and nearly stepped forward for I thought you were going to jump, but you simply turned to face me.

My heart hammered at my chest, and you didn't see the fear on my face for you could only stare at the hand I had out to you.

But you stalled, as though realizing you were about to make a mistake. To take a step forward or backward. One step back and you'd be gone forever but one step forward and everything would still change.

I hoped you stepped forward.

"Come to me, please."

It was like the chains that were holding you close to the edge of that building broke and you stumbled into me. It was as though you didn't trust yourself, almost like you were running away from yourself when you rushed to me.

Suddenly, you collapsed heavily in my arms, as if unwinding the binds of distrust and letting go of all that weight you carried on your shoulders.

Who knew that the first time I met you was one of the few times you'd let me freely touch you.

I will never forget the feeling of relief that came over me once I had you in my arms.

That was the moment that everything that was once so simple changed.

Forever.