Breaking Stars

  BREAKING STARS

  by

  J. Sterling

  Breaking Stars

  Copyright © 2015 by J. Sterling

  All Rights Reserved

  Edited by:

  Pam Berehulke

  www.BulletproofEditing.com

  www.facebook.com/BulletproofEditing

  Cover Design by:

  Michelle Preast

  www.MichellePreast.com

  www.facebook.com/IndieBookCovers

  Smashwords, License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return online and purchase your own copy. Please do not participate or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1494467524

  ISBN-10: 1494467526

  This book is also available in print.

  Please visit the author’s website

  www.j-sterling.com

  to find out where it may be purchased.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  The Cheating Scandal

  Thank God for Best Friends

  Meeting of the Minds

  Running Away

  Is It Hot Out Here?

  Meeting Mama

  I’m Such a Dick

  Reaching Out

  She’s No Princess

  Can’t Do Anything Right

  No Rush to Leave

  Swimming Hole

  Field Parties Are a Bad Idea

  Partying in the South

  Ex-Girlfriends

  A One-Bar Town

  The Kiss That Erases All Others

  I Feel Red

  Reliving Old Memories

  A New Kind of Trust

  College Applications

  Dinner with Mama

  My Girl

  It’s Time

  Knew It Wouldn’t Last

  Long Drive Home

  Just a Fling

  The Land of Spectacular Lies

  Get the Girl

  Find Somebody New

  Who Cheated First

  Stand Up for My Girl

  Forgiveness

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Also by J. Sterling

  Dedication

  Sometimes our lives feel like they no longer belong to us.

  This story is for anyone who has ever felt like their life was not their own, for whatever reason or circumstance.

  I hope you fight for yours.

  The Cheating Scandal

  Paige

  When a text message pinged on my phone, I clicked on the link included without thinking. I didn’t bother reading the contents of the text or the link description; knowing it was from my best friend, Quinn, was enough of a reason to absentmindedly click for me. Usually she sent me links to things she thought I should see that involved our friends, coworkers, or her boyfriend. This link, however, had nothing to do with any of her usual subjects, and when I realized that, my heart stopped.

  The video appeared grainy at first as the cell phone camera adjusted to the strobe lighting in the club. My boyfriend, Colin, suddenly appeared in the frame, a smile plastered on his face as his eyes focused on someone or something not in the picture. He raised a hand, waving someone over toward him, his grin growing more mischievous.

  My brain screamed at me to stop watching. Something inside begged me to look away, turn it off, throw my smart phone across the room, but I couldn’t. It was obviously bad enough for Quinn to send to me, so I had to keep watching.

  No matter how much it was going to hurt.

  An overly busty blonde sauntered into view, showing more skin than clothes, dancing seductively as she made her way toward my boyfriend. He reached for her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, her legs wrapping around his very private area in very plain sight.

  Who does that?

  The blonde’s skirt rode up, revealing her bare ass, and Colin’s hands were suddenly there, squeezing it, slapping it, lifting her skirt higher. As she leaned her head toward his face, I honestly thought for a second he’d come to his senses. Maybe he wouldn’t kiss her. Maybe he’d toss her off his lap, tell her to go to hell, and rush out of the club, humiliated. Then again, that type of thing only happened in the books I read and the movies I starred in. Most guys weren’t anywhere near as well-behaved as we women wanted them to be.

  As if reading my mind, Colin fisted a handful of her hair, and I watched as he yanked her head back, causing the rest of her hair to spill provocatively behind her. His lips pressed against her neck as he licked his way up to her mouth. She laughed, and then he kissed her. It was a mess of tongues and body parts grinding, with hands roaming in places hands shouldn’t be roaming in public.

  I’d seen more than enough, so I stopped the video and tried to remind myself how to breathe, my heart pounding as if I were on a treadmill. If anything came after that spectacle—no pun intended—I didn’t need to see it.

  Pushing off from the couch, I walked to my window and glanced down toward the street, noticing the swarm of paparazzi already beginning to form.

  They’re quick.

  This wasn’t the first time claims of infidelity like this had been leveled against my pop-star boyfriend, Colin McGuire, but it was the first time pictures had accompanied the accusations. If a picture spoke a thousand words, this horrendous video and the photos that accompanied it screamed a million. Colin could never talk his way out of my seeing his tongue being buried in that woman’s throat, seeing him grab her ass and grinding on her for all to see.

  Falling back on the couch, I tried to unsee what I’d just watched. I couldn’t believe Colin was so blatant and stupid. Most celebrities knew if they were going to cheat, they should do it where people couldn’t watch them or take photos for proof. Apparently the VIP section of a club in London was not that place. Maybe he wanted to get caught? But why not just break up with me first?

  Staring down at my cell phone, my eyes stinging from humiliation and the tears that now slid down my cheeks, I scanned the various tabloid headlines being sent to me nonstop via text message and e-mail from what seemed like every person I’d ever crossed paths with in my entire life. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly choked, unable to believe this was actually happening.

  Colin Cheats on America’s Sweetheart with Stripper!

  Colin McGuire Caught in Cheating Scandal with not One, but Three Buxom Blondes!

  Not the First Time Colin has Cheated on Paige – See the Proof Inside!

  Paige, Embarrassed and Ashamed, Won’t Be Seen in Public!

  Heartbroken Paige in Hiding! Where Has She Gone?

  I swiped at the moisture on my cheeks before looking around at the brightly decorated walls of my apartment. Since when had sitting in the living room of my own home been considered hiding? Although I had to admit—the thought of crawling into a hole somewhere secluded sounded
more appealing with each minute that passed.

  Any breakup sucked, but going through one when you were a celebrity was ten times worse. Imagine every single incident in your life magnified, scrutinized, and published all over the world, usually portrayed in the most unflattering light and rarely accurate. The more scandalous the subject matter, the more the story took off. Over time I’d learned that people didn’t care if what was being reported was true or not; they simply enjoyed observing the chaos and carnage from the safety of their own mundane lives. For whatever reason, the public enjoyed watching celebrities suffer, and it reminded me just how out of touch with one another we truly were.

  Ridding my head of those thoughts, I wondered how many times in the past Colin had cheated, and just how much of a fool I’d been. We’d dated for almost a year, and I thought we understood each other’s lifestyle, never being too possessive or jealous, never questioning each other’s actions. Both of us were in the entertainment industry, and while groupies tossed their dignity at him every night, I suppose I was naive enough to think he’d never take them up on their offers.

  I suddenly had the urge to slap my own stupid face and freaking kill him. Right after I picked up the pieces of my shattered pride and aching heart.

  Startling me, my phone vibrated against the coffee table. I watched as it danced, shaking all the tabletop items around it like they were in a bouncy house. It had been doing that almost nonstop since the news broke, and I let it.

  I glanced down to see my manager’s name, Corryn, flashing on the screen. I pressed Ignore only to have the phone start vibrating again within seconds. My agent, Jayson, was apparently next in line on the check-on-Paige train. Pushing Ignore again, I wondered when they’d all get the hint to leave me alone. My publicist had called five times already and I probably should have answered her call, but honestly, this was Colin’s screw-up, not mine. If anyone should be talking to their publicist about saving face, it was him, not me.

  My mother always warned me that people in this business were not as good-hearted as I tended to be. This industry was vicious and brutal, but it was also amazing, life-changing, and spectacular. I loved my job, and up until about thirty minutes ago, I thought I’d loved Colin too.

  Mom also constantly reminded me that I was far too trusting, but I didn’t know how to be any other way. Being a Southern California native who spent most of my years living a normal childhood helped keep me grounded. My parents had normal lives, had worked normal jobs, and I had never planned on becoming an actress.

  Fighting the urge to call my mom, I picked up the phone to dial my best friend, Quinn, instead. When the phone suddenly vibrated in my hand I almost dropped it, but quickly answered when I noticed Quinn’s name on the display.

  “I was just going to call you,” I breathed out.

  “Liar,” she scoffed, and I almost huffed out a laugh. Almost.

  “I swear.”

  “Verdict?”

  I knew exactly what she meant. “There’s no way that video’s faked.”

  “I thought the same thing,” she said, agreeing way too quickly.

  “The other pictures too. They don’t look Photoshopped to you, do they?” There were also pictures taken of Colin with other women. Apparently the blonde had friends, and she didn’t mind sharing.

  She sighed before admitting, “No.”

  “Me either.”

  “I can’t believe this shit,” Quinn bit out. “No. Scratch that. Actually I can, and I’ll kill his scrawny ass the next time I see him. Pack some clothes and get over here. You’re staying with me tonight.” She paused briefly, seeming to consider before asking, “Unless you want me to come there and stay with you? Is that what you want? I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll totally come to you. I’m an idiot—”

  I forced my hazy brain to make a decision, then I cut her off. “No. Your place sounds perfect. I’d love to get away from here. It’s already a madhouse outside. Thanks, Quinn.”

  “Of course. I love you. Drive safe.”

  Quinn and I had bonded instantly on the set of my first movie when I was fourteen. She was a pro, had been acting since she was a little kid, and I’d been so nervous that I felt sick to my stomach when I arrived that afternoon. She had shared her french fries with me, reminding me that eating something was better than eating nothing when you were nervous and had to work until who knew when. I decided right then and there that any girl who would share her fries with a stranger was a keeper.

  Plus, she was incredibly kind to me, and I envied the way she spoke her mind, no matter who she was talking to. Quinn Johnson never seemed afraid of anyone or anything, and I wanted to be more like her.

  When production on our film wrapped, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see Quinn again, but to my surprise we became virtually inseparable. She was the one person in the world who really understood what I was going through. We shared experiences that other people couldn’t begin to relate to, and I was so happy to have her in my corner.

  Tossing some comfortable clothes into an overnight bag, I wandered into my bathroom and gathered up my necessities as my phone rang yet again from my bedroom. I should have turned it off hours ago, but it wasn’t in my DNA to be rebellious and unreachable. The fact that I’d ignored most calls today was pretty out of character for me. Ever the obedient one, Paige Lockwood had always played by the rules.

  I walked over to where my phone lay on my bed and checked the caller ID to see Colin’s name flashing across the screen. My stomach instantly churned and my heart seized. Willing my numb fingers to move, I pressed Ignore, half-tempted to throw the damn thing against the wall and watch it splinter into tiny pieces like my heart. Taking some calming breaths, I focused on each inhale and exaggerated exhale as he continued to call my phone, the calls finally stopping as my text message notification beeped.

  It’s not what it looks like.

  And then beeped again.

  You know it’s fake. Those girls just want money.

  Just talk to me, baby.

  Please.

  Baby? Lord give me strength if another man ever calls me “baby” again.

  I rolled my eyes at his texts and wondered if he’d ever told me the truth in the last ten months. Thankful he was in another country and couldn’t show up here unannounced, I gathered what was left of my wits and my things, and headed out my front door. I made my way downstairs, knowing all too well what I’d be faced with once I was down there.

  The dreaded paparazzi.

  Thank God I’d had the foresight to choose a place in LA with a doorman, private parking, and twenty-four-hour concierge service. My parents suggested the concierge, and I’d been convinced that no such thing existed in Southern California. I’d never been happier than in this moment to be proven wrong by that simple fact. I loved the security and privacy that living here afforded me.

  Lowering my sunglasses over my face, I stepped into the lobby and was immediately greeted by Sam, the concierge, his salt-and-pepper hair falling into his eyes. He quickly brushed the stray hairs away and walked with me toward the building’s exit.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Lockwood.” His thick Latino accent filled the space between us and I marveled at how beautiful it sounded. I always did this around Sam, acted as if I were studying the very fabric of the language for a part or upcoming role. I never was, but he humored me anyway, talking purely for my enjoyment.

  “The paparazzi are across the street. Right over there.” He gestured in the direction of a small crowd and I nodded in response, offering a tight-lipped smile as he continued. “They tried to come in, but I threatened to call the cops and have them all arrested for trespassing.”

  “I really wish they’d pass some laws against this type of thing,” I said with a sigh.

  “I know, Miss Lockwood. It makes me very nervous when you drive off and they chase you. Very nervous.” He nodded his head and looked up into the air as if offering a silent prayer.

  I leaned toward him, placin
g my hand on his shoulder. “It makes me nervous too.”

  His body tensed. “I’ll have the valet get your car,” he said, his tone defeated. “Please tell me you’re going to Miss Johnson’s? Or home to your parents?”

  Sam loved Quinn. Everyone loved her, but Sam especially enjoyed her take-no-shit attitude and told her so every time she came to visit. I constantly spotted the two of them discussing Quinn’s latest shenanigans whenever she came around. She loved embellishing her stories for Sam, and he loved hearing her tales.

  “I’m staying with Quinn for a few days. I don’t want to bring this to my parents’ house. They have to work, and my sister would be beyond annoyed if it interfered with her senior year. They don’t need this on their doorstep.”

  “Miss Johnson will take care of you. I suppose Mr. Miller will be there as well?” he asked hopefully.

  I nodded my head and chuckled at his overprotective nature. “Yes, Dad number two, both Quinn and Ryson will be there.”

  He pressed his lips together in a cautious smile and shrugged. “I just worry.”

  “I know, Sam. Thank you. I’ll be fine. But hey,” I said as a thought occurred to me. “Will you please remove Colin’s name from my access list? I don’t want him coming up unannounced anytime soon.”

  Sam’s face reddened, telling me he’d heard the news. “Of course. Hopefully he knows better than to show up during my shift.”

  I smiled, and it felt good after all the tears I’d shed today. Offering Sam a quick squeeze, I said good-bye and headed toward my waiting BMW as the paparazzi jumped into action at the sight of me.

  Thank God for Best Friends

  Paige

  I weaved in and out of traffic on the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu, driving recklessly and way too fast. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I noted at least ten cars had followed me, all trying to maneuver as close as possible. No matter how I drove, I couldn’t shake them. They’d been tailing me since we left my apartment on Wilshire Boulevard, and I was convinced they knew exactly where I was headed.