Secret Identity ▶▶A Hunter Hayes Fanfiction◀◀

17

Hunter’s P.O.V.

I told the band exactly what happened when I walked into the studio, my face all bloodied and bruised. To say that they were shocked would be an understatement. Devo panicked and asked if my face was broken or if I needed a hospital. Matt threatened to call the police. Steve was sleeping, no surprise there, so he didn’t do anything. Sam was the only sane one, besides sleeping Steve, and let me wash my face off in peace in the bathroom.

After the session in the studio, which lasted a good twelve hours, I went home. When I turn on the local news station, my heart stops.

A picture taken completely out of text is displayed on the screen, the anchorwoman explaining how I was attacked by Little Birdie yet again. I wonder how fast the news was informed about this, and who told them. Joslyn, in her black hoodie and her face concealed, is leaning over me as I sit on the sidewalk. My face is bloody and it almost looks like Joslyn is in the motion of punching me.

I’ve got to tell Joslyn.

Before I can bolt from my spot on the couch, the anchorwoman says that it happened early this morning and journalist Jennifer Realms wrote an article over the event that she witnessed and the picture that she took.

My face grows hot as I fumble with my phone, calling my ex-girlfriend. She picks up after a few moments, giggling on the other end.

“Is this a good time?” I ask, even though I don’t really care.

Jennifer stifles her laugh. “Oh, hi Hunter. How are-”

“What is this shit on the news?” I ask venomously.

“What…?” She pauses. “Oh, the attack Little Birdie had on you?”

“Yeah, that.”

“What about it?” she asks.

I cross my arms. “Well, I have a few questions. My first on: why? Why did you lie again?”

“I thought I already told you; I’m a journalist, and I’ve got to get readers somehow.”

“By lying,” I deadpan.

Jennifer sighs. “Look, I’m sorry if it offended you or hurt you, but I only told Daniel to shove-”

“Wait, you told Daniel to do that to me so you can get a picture and then lie about what happened so you can get more readers?!” I shout, my temper overflowing.

“Just hear me out-”

“No, I won’t. Joslyn and I were both hurt by what you had selfishly done.”

There’s a pause. “... Joslyn?”

I freeze, my body rigid.

I just told Jennifer that Joslyn and I were hurt, meaning that I was indicating that Joslyn-

“Joslyn, your weird neighbor, is Nashville’s Little Birdie?!”

I stumble over my words. I need to defend her and lie, but I get so nervous and stumped that I stupidly just end our call.

Which also probably ended my and Joslyn’s friendship forever, even though it was pretty weak in the first place.

In fast movements, I run outside and over to Joslyn’s house. There’s a crash and I know for sure that she saw the news too. I knock briefly before stepping inside, not waiting for her to let me in. Joslyn spins around and sees me, her face red with anger and a new collection of shattered glass on the floor.

Before either of us have time to think anything, do anything, or say anything, I take a long step to close the gap between us and connect my lips to hers. Joslyn doesn’t even hesitate to kiss me back, which is a sweet surprise. Our lips move in synchronization, my hands cupping her face as she places her hands on my chest, pulling me closer.

When we pull apart, breathless, Joslyn gives me a look.

“Okay, no more games. What’d you do?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. I just saw the news and-”

She pulls me back in for another kiss, this one less rushed and more sweet. When we separate this time, she lets out a long breath.

“This is so screwed up.”

I mutter under my breath, “You don’t even know.”

Joslyn’s P.O.V.

After Hunter leaves, I read the article Jennifer wrote. It’s 100% false in every way, but the picture looks exactly how she’s representing it to be. If I didn’t know better and if I wasn’t Little Birdie, I would believe this crap.

As I’m finishing up the insulting article, there’s a notification. I click on it, and it sends me to a different page with a new article. The headline makes my heart skip a beat.

NASHVILLE’S LITTLE BIRDIE’S IDENTITY LEAKED

No. Hunter couldn’t have told anyone, right? But there’s no other possible way for my true identity to be leaked. He didn’t tell Jennifer, he couldn’t have. She broke his heart; why would he tell her my secret?

A distant siren catches my attention. My strain my ears, and the sirens gradually get louder. I peer outside the window and see four police cars haphazardly park in front of my house, officers bolting out with their hands poised over their guns. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths. I step away from the window and hug myself, telling myself over and over that Hunter didn’t rat me out.

There’s a sharp knock on the door, but I’m so tied up in telling myself that this isn’t Hunter’s doing that they are forced to kick it down. They have their guns raised and aimed at my head.

“Show me your hands!” a cop orders, her gun still aimed on my forehead.

I lift my arms above my shoulders, giving in. There’s no point in fighting. A police officer roughly grabs my arm and shoves me against the wall, handcuffing my wrists together. The metal is tight and cuts into my flesh. A different officer pats me down to make sure I’m not armed or anything. Then, they shove me out the front door. The light from the sun hits me full-force, but soon it’s going to be dark. People from their houses down from mine pop their heads out their windows and doors, curious. One person, who is standing on their lawn helplessly, catches my eye. His blond hair looks more brown in the light. His blue eyes still shimmer as bright as they always have, however. Instead of glimmering with happiness, they glow with pain and regret.

I give Hunter an emotionless look before staring at the cop car that awaits, stony-faced.

I thought that kiss meant something. I guess it meant call the cops to Hunter.