Chapter Text
I was walking as fast as I could in six inch heels to my SUV, or really my driver Sawyer’s SUV. His chauffeur business had boomed when I became his client and our connection grew. Sawyer was now a good friend of mine and I was the only client he drove personally now, but his horde of drivers chauffeured hundreds of celebrities.
This was my least favorite thing about being an actress: Heels. I loved everything else: the stardom, the movies I made, my fans, premieres, everything. But I detested heels. At least my weak-ass knees did.
“Heels make your legs look good, flats make you look like a grandma or a ballet dancer. You are neither. You are a star.” My mother always used to say when I just started out in Hollywood as a fifteen year old theater kid with a dream. It’s not like I had a hard time breaking into the industry, I was a complete nepo-baby with world renowned producer Lilith Sorrengail as my mother, but she never cast me in anything she produced, she didn’t pay for acting lessons, she didn’t find a manager for me, nothing. I did that on my own. But the name Sorrengail? That was influential on its own.
Now, I had twenty movies and two series to my name, granted the two series were Disney and I was desperate to get as far away from that part of my career as I could. What people didn’t know was that Disney may be a quick money-maker when you’re first trying to break into the industry, but afterwards it’s often a blemish on your resume. No one wants the over-acting Disney teaches you. No one wants a childlike star for their adult audience.
My Disney shows were fun, though. One was a regular show and one was a spin-off, so the cast remained relatively the same during both, so we really got to know each other. I met one of my closest friends Jesinia while filming the original show. We still texted.
I was far prouder of my movies. I had won Oscars for my movies. I acted in every genre, but what was usually my most well received roles were in dramas, but dramas were the toughest, the most work, so I was glad it was being recognized.
I approached the SUV, excited to kick off my heels as soon I was in the backseat.
I smiled at Sawyer when he opened the door.
“Thank you, kind sir.” I said with a joking curtsy.
“Of course, madame.” He replied in an awful British accent. “Anything else I can-”
There was a sudden, shocking pop, and I abruptly found myself shoved into the black seat of the SUV.
Shots.
Fucking shots had been fired.
I clambered for the window, searching for Sawyer, and screamed when I saw him on the ground clutching his leg as blood pooled.
Someone just shot my friend.
But then another thought dawned on me.
Someone just tried to shoot me.