The Main Character (ONC 2024)

1: The Perfect Main Character

"Have you ever felt like you're being watched?"

I started cursing my reckless mouth the moment it allowed these words to run merrily into the world. Maybe even a few seconds earlier. Either way, it was too late to stop them now.

"Are you serious, Emma?" Olivia asked, slowly taking her eyes off her laptop's screen and locking them on me in genuine confusion.

"Yeah." I shrugged noncommittally.

"No, I don't believe I have." She regarded me with thinly veiled curiosity. I could only blame myself for befriending the biggest busybody in the company, and as we worked for a pseudo-news website focused on celebrity gossip, acquiring this title was no small feat. "Have you?"

"Once or twice."

Always, I answered truthfully in my mind, even though I didn't dare to utter this word.

It wouldn't be safe to let them know I knew.

"Do you have a stalker or something?" She leaned forward, not even trying to hide her enthusiasm anymore.

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. "And can't you at least pretend you'd be worried about me?"

"Of course, I would be worried!" she protested. "But I'm also terrified of horror movies, yet I still watch them. And you have to admit that, objectively speaking, it would be the most interesting thing to happen around here in... Well, in forever."

Ignoring her ridiculous reasoning, I pretended to look at something on my own screen. Olivia worked on the opposite side of our wide desk, so I didn't even need to actually read anything to make it believable. I could feel she was still staring at me, expecting some sort of reaction, but I was determined not to cave in.

That other person was looking at me as well.

I shouldn't have started this conversation in the first place. I knew better than to take unnecessary risks. Talking about this wasn't safe because the truth was that Olivia wasn't really that far off with her assumption.

I didn't know who they were. I had no proof. I had never been able to catch even the slightest sign of their presence. But someone was watching me, of that I was certain with every fibre of my being.

The feeling of their eyes on me was my ever-present companion. More reliable than family, closer than a lover. A gentle caress of a watchful gaze that followed me everywhere, watched my every move, evaluated my actions, guessed my motives and judged me for them. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second. In public and in private. I felt it from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning until I closed them in the evening and for hours longer.

And the weirdest thing in all of this?

I didn't mind.

My boss liked to say that actors were vain creatures, though it was more of a prejudice than an opinion. His grudge against this particular group stemmed from his own failed attempt at becoming a movie star, which had begun and ended with an unintentionally hilarious part in a low-budget slasher film two decades ago. Not that he would ever admit it.

Still, his favourite saying was right and wrong at the same time. Because, yes, actors tended to be at least a little vain.

But weren't we all actors in a movie called life?

We all had different roles we liked to play. Each equipped with a different voice, face, character and way more assets than faults. One persona created to go through family dinners in peace, another to go wild on a nightclub's dancefloor, and the others: the perfect partner, employee, boss, friend. Among them, there was always that one who was our favourite. The one we loved to tell ourselves was the real us because that was who we aspired to be.