Nothing Special...

Rewrite for a friend

Chapter 2

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*Vanessa POV*

I feel so foolish. What on earth am I thinking?

They forewarned me about keeping my distance from these so-called 'band members', and yet here I am, playing right into Niall's hands.

I let out a quiet sigh to myself; so quiet that Niall couldn't possibly hear.

I can't even fathom what methods of punishment they would line up for me if they discovered my treason. If they could only see me now...

I'm suddenly brought back into reality by Niall, wrapping his arms around my waist. He then wastes no time in moving to kiss along my neck.

"You never did... tell me your name... beautiful?" Niall mumbles out in fragmented pieces, as he's clearly too absorbed in trailing his lips against the tender skin of my neck; the vibration from his voice tickling me in just the right way to successfully distract me.

A strange tension starts to build in my chest in response to his question, but I quickly suppress it.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." I say in a slightly lower tone than before, quickly falling under his soft-lipped persuasion.

Niall chuckles to himself almost instantly, in response to my stubbornness, and pulls back from my neck to look at me directly.

He draws out a long second of just staring into my eyes before speaking, "And why's that?'' Niall asks slowly, while his voice is laced with slight amusement, and building arousal.

Closing my eyes, I'm instantly thrown back into an instance of recollection from the day before.

*Flashback*

I took a deep, hesitant breath before gathering the strength necessary to pass through the tall doors stood before me.  I twist the handles and creak the doors open just wide enough to fit through. A nervous shiver rakes down my spine, as the room is about ten degrees cooler and almost pitch black; the only source of light being a single window on the far wall of the room.

Upon entering, the rigid outline of a large man is the first to catch my eye. He is sat behind a large wooden desk, by the looks of it; both being silhouetted against the timid moonlight shining in through the small window.

"Shut the door behind you." His voice is deep and cold like nothing I've ever heard before.

This man is a mystery, lost within an enigma, to put it lightly.

From what I've been told, the only few to know his name were his closest and most trusted 'employees'.

I remember my father once telling me that his identity remains one of the companies biggest, and best kept secrets, due to all the unspeakable acts he's either committed himself or had a hand in.

He starts to tap his fingers against the face of the desk in annoyance.

I quickly snapped out of my daze and recalled his demand. I turned and closed the door softly behind me, then turned back to face the man, trying to conceal just how severely I was trembling.

This man - this famously infamous man - is the head founder and leader of an organization called 'Celebrity Stabilizers'; C.S. for short.

'Celebrity Stabilizers' is a two-faced organization.

While the side of glamorous illusion keeps the watchful eye of the average people occupied, the hidden side - being the real, sole purpose of the organization - specializes in utilizing people's rage, jealousy, spite, and malice in the utmost discreet art of assassinating the world's rising fame.