Starlet Scarlett

Chapter 7 - 'Are the rumours of your engagement true?'

Maybe something serious will spiral from this situation. And the more I consider that idea, the less it scared me. The less it bothers me.

And if I'm going all out here, I guess I may as well say that when he grasps my small hand in his big one, I feel safer and I feel all that butterfly shit that those whiny teenage girls always talk about. I don't have a crush on him, though. I'm probably just in character or something.

When we've done a significant amount of laughing, hand holding and rollerblading, we exit the rink and return our skates. As we leave the building, everything's going great, that is until we get bombarded by men with cameras.

"Scarlett, is this your new boyfriend?"

"Is this official now?"

"Why won't either of you clarify for us?"

"Come on give us a smile!"

"Or a kiss, even better!"

They throw out questions and commands at us and, although I'm pretty used to it, it never gets less daunting. Cameron wraps a protective - at least I think it is - arm around my waist and leads me past them without saying a word.

"So you are a couple now!" one man booms and the rest all agree. It's so creepy, they're all old enough to be my father yet they're practically drooling over my 'relationship'. Gross. If my dad had this job I swear I wouldn't speak to him.

"We're just out trying to have a nice day," Cameron says, turning to them and everyone shuts right up. "We'd really appreciate if we could be left alone."

"Well we only want one answer, are you two dating or not?" I don't even know which man asks it but they all seem to be in agreement anyway.

"Yes, we are," Cameron says after a beat and that's it. It's done. We're officially a couple in the eyes of the press and public. There's no going back. Fabulous.

"How long?"

"Future plans?"

"Are the rumours of your engagement true?"

I swear to god I have no idea where they come up with this stuff. And really, they're kind of taking this a little far. I mean, I guess Cameron is very famous, more so as the days pass, but me? I don't do anything. The only reason I'm well known is because I have famous relatives and I show up to a lot of formal parties. My dad's a rock star and my aunt's one of the best fashion designers in the world. And I'm just... caught up in it all, I guess.

I'm not going to lie and say I hate it, because I do love my life. I have a great home and family and basically get whatever I want. My friends are nice, school's fine and I'm not sick. There's nothing wrong with it, and I don't want it to change. But, in saying that, it is also very weird not doing anything yet everyone knowing you. There are plenty of talented people who don't get half the attention I do, so why is that?

Probably because I'm young and I guess people think I'm a role model to their kids. I'm fine with that, but I wouldn't necessarily encourage it. I've not done anything, the only reason I'm even in this position is because I was the most opportunistic sperm - which I guess is an accomplishment, but hey, everyone else did it too. So yeah, other than that I've basically just had my life handed to me. I guess that's kind of great because I love my lifestyle and god knows I'd be far too lazy to achieve it by myself. But it does make me feel kind of stuck up.

I didn't really have a choice though, let's not forget that.

Cameron ignores their questions and opens the passenger side door to his car, letting me slide in. He rushes to his own seat and drives off, leaving the crowd of paparazzi standing outside the roller rink.

"Well I guess the cat's out of the bag now," I say, laughing a little.

"That was awful," he says, checking his mirrors. "I hate when they group up like that."

"Me too," I nod. "One time, Jess and I were shopping and the paparazzi like crowded around us when we were trying to get back to my car and one of the guys grabbed Jess's arm, so she whacked him with her shopping bags. It was amazing, one of the paper bags burst open and it was full of her underwear, I swear to god I have never laughed so much in my life."

"Her underwear fell out?" he asks with a grin and I nod.

"One of her bras landed on the guy's shoulder," I say and this time Cameron can't keep in his laughter.

"You're joking!"

"I'm not!" I assure him. "I swear to god it was the funniest thing, my dad managed to keep it away from the press though."

"What's he like, your dad?" Cameron asks out of the blue.

"Well, you know him?" I say, referring to the many times we've had dinner together with our families.

"No but what's he really like?" he presses.

"Well, he's nice, funny, talented," I shrug. "I don't know really. He's a good dad, always makes time for us, more so now that he's getting older and isn't touring as much."

"I like a lot of his music," Cameron says.

"No," I gape. "Do you really?"

"Yeah, it's not bad," he grins.

"Dude, I thought you were into all that whiny acoustic shit?"

"It's not whiny," he deadpans.

"Sure," I laugh.

"No, but really, your dad's good. Has he ever taught you any guitar or anything?"

"Nah," I say. "When I was younger we used to sing his songs around the kitchen at like two in the morning when he was back from tour. He used to be gone a lot so when he came back me and my brothers would take time off school to just be a family for a while. I guess our grades got a little shaky though, so we had to stop, but it was always the best time of my life. Those weeks off."

"I never had that," Cameron says abruptly. "Like, I'm an only child and my dad's a bastard. He doesn't spend much time at home at all really and he cheats on my mom basically all the time, but she's too oblivious to do anything about it. What you just said sounds amazing, like I can't even describe how great that sounds."

"You... you could," I say gingerly. "I mean, like, if you want you could come over on family night? We play board games and eat lots of food and, like, it's really shitty but it's also kind of great." He's quiet for a second, a small smile lingering on his lips.

"Thanks," he says and I nod slightly.

"I mean, you know," I say, clearing my throat. "If you want to."

I can't believe I said that. I cannot believe I just invited Cameron Daniels to one of our family game nights. What? I hate him and he hates me. We do not like each other. At all. That was established long ago and this whole 'pretending to date' thing is not going to change that. I don't like him.

I don't.

I don't.

Okay.

Maybe I do.

But only a little.

Only a little.