Star Stuck (#Wattys2015)

Chapter One - Punishment

Chapter One - Punishment

*Xavier's POV*

I winked and smiled at the screaming fan who was proclaiming her love for me. Her screams alerted other people around and people started to crowd me.

Here we go again.

"OH MY GOSH! XAVIER!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!" People were sobbing around me. Someone even reached out to touch me. I allowed them to do that although I casually tried to move back. After all, there would only be a couple of minutes before the paparazzi came.

When they come, then it'd be impossible to escape. All the pictures they took of me were fine, the questions were fine too, but it they took forever.

I was just on my way to my parents' house on the outskirts of Los Angeles. My parents gave me a call earlier and told me to meet at them at their house. They sounded kind of pissed.

Oh well, I'll find out what I did wrong.

After I finally pried my fans off me, I ran to my brand new Aston Martin hiding around the corner, hopped right in and drove off. I swear, I get a workout every time I'm out in public.

The only other time where I would worry as much was if I was trying to get away from my fans while I was stuck in traffic. Because everyone knows, traffic can be rough around L.A. But at least, I've only experienced that nightmare twice.

While I drove, I thought about what I could've done wrong. I haven't said anything offensive on TV recently, have I? Maybe it's about how I totaled my other car, but they probably would've talked to me about that last week.

I glanced at my rear view mirror to see if any cars were following me. If there was one rule that my parents wanted me to follow, it'd be the one to make sure no paparazzi or fans knew where where they lived.

After the you-must-follow-all-rules-and-commands rule of course. Not that I follow all of them anyway.

When I knew the sight was cleared, I made a sharp u-turn and took the next right. I drove down the street until I saw a medium-sized grey house. I saw my mother on the front porch, with her arms crossed. She patiently, barely, waited for me to park my car in the driveway.

Hmm, maybe this was a little more serious than I thought.

"Xavier Alexander Monroe! Living room, now!" was the first thing she said to me. No hellos or anything. I groaned in my head. Seriously. What could've make my mom this angry? I shook my head to myself as I walked in through the front door.

I walk in to familiar surroundings, one I've lived in since I was little. It was still a wonder how the paparazzi haven't found this place yet.

But that's the perk about owning a mansion elsewhere, which everyone believes that's where I live the whole time. They stalk that area out while I am actually in a house with a quiet and relaxing atmosphere.

Unless your angry mother is across the room giving you a fierce glare and looked like she was going to give you the talk of your life.

Her straight red hair hair surrounds her face, making her look less menacing but more angry. I was beginning to feel nervous but I decided against showing my feelings and giving into weakness. Her bottomless dark brown eyes peered into my skull.

Here's when the saying "If looks could kill" comes in play. If that were true, I'd have died, came back to life, and died again.

My dad came into the room, looking a little less stern than my mother, but stern nevertheless. Now it's time for the lecture that I've been dreading for the last hour.