Publish Or Perish

@arty_enigma | Prompt 3 • Sept '18

My suspicions got confirmed. Something very bad had happened here.

One of the police guys yelled at the crowd, which had gathered in a huge cluster and was on the verge of a stampede.

'We need you to calm down, everyone! There's been an accident! We want to keep you all safe!'

He should not have said that for the crowd got even more agitated. I found I was one of them.

I saw someone approach the policeman from the other side of the blockade and say something to him.

And I saw him point right at me.

Well, I could say that something bad was coming.

The policeman, following the pointed hand, looked towards me and called out, 'You, miss! You are required here.'

Everyone turned their heads towards me accusingly, as if I were somehow the cause of their harassment. I froze and the officer called out again, 'Can you herlar me? Please come here!'

Confused, I slowly walked to him. He said, surprisingly without any hint of accusation, 'They have called you. Right there.' He pointed towards what one might call the backstage. I was bewildered. Why?

I asked him that, but he seemed too busy controlling the crowd to answer. Hesitant as I was, I made my way to where he pointed. As I was walking, suddenly I heard my name being called out, 'Abigail!'

Side note: Yeah, that's my real name.

My head jerked to the side. I saw a man, in his thirties, I guessed, standing with something like an identity card round his neck.

'I called you, come here.'

How did he even know my name?

I walked towards him. 'Abigail, right? Jay here.'

He extended his hand to shake. I shook it. 'How do you know me?'

'We'll talk about that. There's a lot to talk about. Come inside.'

He led me inside some kind of a dressing room. Everything felt so weird to me. Why on Earth was I brought here?

Jay started, 'I'm Dakota's manager, Jay Palmer.'

I pursed my lips. This guy was the pop singer's manager. How weird could tonight get?

We were quiet for a moment. He broke the silence. 'Has anhone ever told you how similar you look to Dakota Abel?'

Countless times. In fact, I wouldn't be wrong to say I get told once every second day.

'Yes.'

'With a little facial reconstruction, vocal training and workout, tou could totally fool Dakota as her reflection. No one could tell the difference.'

'Wait, wha--why are you telling we all this?'

He lowered his voice. 'Listen, Abigail. There is something I'm going to tell you. You must swear you won't speak of it to anyone. Anyone.'

'Al . . . right?'

'Dakota Abel is no more.'

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN DAKOTA IS DEAD?'

He put his finger on his lips and motioned me to lower my voice.

'What do you mean? Today is her concert.'

'Yeah, but she was is a car accident. She passed on then and there. No one knows about that just yet.'

There was silence. Then u realized I needed to say something.