Note: This is an edited, dual POV, special edition of Better Than Revenge. I'll be posting it chapter by chapter, but it is complete (I promise!)
I wrote the first draft of this book more than 10 years ago now, and it still carries a special place in my heart. I dreamed of traditionally publishing it for a long, long time and even considered self-publishing but ended up shelving the idea. I also just kind of want to write new things at this point and move on.
I'd hate for it to live in my files, though, so I thought it was time to share it with the readers who inspired me to keep writing it in the first place. This is the newest version of this book from my 2021 rewrite. It's a combination of Better Than Revenge and Better Than Me, featuring both Sophia and Christian's perspectives. I hope you enjoy it (and please, please, please read this one instead of the original, if you happen to stumble upon it).
Alex
***
Chapter 1
Sophia
The last time I saw myself on TV, I was eight years old and being featured on America's Funniest Home Videos for my inability to hold down buffalo wings during my debut performance in the Wizard of Oz. People called me the "Vomiting Tree" for months.
Ten years later, I was surprised to see I had inadvertently made a comeback to nighttime TV via Hollywood Tonight.
A picture of me was the last thing I'd expected to see while strolling past the TV in my living room. I thought I was seeing things at first. That couldn't possibly be me on tonight's episode of a show dedicated to exploiting the lives of those lucky enough to have made it big. God knew I wasn't a celebrity. My five minutes of fame certainly hadn't granted me that title.
I slowed my stride, eyes widening as I stopped in front of the TV in my (blessedly) empty living room. Did I know what was going on? No. Did I want witnesses to whatever it was that was happening? Also no. I wasn't sure where my mom had wandered off to, but that was the least of my concerns at that point.
While the show had already started by the time I tuned in, it didn't take long for its contents to leave me frozen in place. There was a still image of my best friend and me sitting in our seats at our local movie theater on the screen. Tori was ugly-crying, streaks of mascara evident on her cheeks, while I was sporting some seriously crazy eyes and laughing hysterically.
We were on live TV, our likeness visible to who knows how many people, and we both looked absolutely ridiculous. It was kind of like that dream where you're giving a speech in front of the entire school, and all of a sudden, you're naked, except this was real life.
Taking advantage of the fact that my mom was still nowhere in sight, I grabbed the remote from the couch, fumbled with the controls until I successfully switched the channel, and threw it behind me like it was a hot potato. Except my damn curiosity couldn't let me leave it at that. You know the saying, "Curiosity killed the cat?" Well, meow, meow.
I retreated back to my room, walking faster than I thought I was physically capable of, pulling my phone out of my hoodie's pocket to shoot Tori a quick text.
Me: SOS
Me: TURN ON HOLLYWOOD TONIGHT
Tori: Wait what? What's it on
Me: CABLE
Tori: But my mom is watching her soaps
I slammed the door behind me, throwing myself onto my bed and tuning back into Hollywood Tonight on my own TV. I wasn't sure if I was glad my mom was old school and still had cable, or if I would've rather lived in ignorance for another half hour and caught wind of this on social media, if it made it there, anyway. God, I hoped it wouldn't.
The host's next words made my head snap back up.
"Fan-favorite Christian Ryder wanted to show his fans just how much he appreciates all of their love and support, once again proving he's got a heart of gold underneath that chiseled exterior."
Of course. Of course Christian Ryder was somehow involved. It was just my luck that the one person I couldn't stand was the one who was somehow involved in my return to the public eye.
Really, I shouldn't have been surprised. Christian was the kind of celebrity you couldn't avoid. He was everywhere. He was all over my social media feeds. He was guest-starring on all of my favorite shows. His face was plastered in stores across the country and maybe even the world, his merchandise selling surprisingly well. The only product of his that I would ever buy would be Christian Ryder toilet paper, for obvious reasons.
"Last week, Ryder launched a free, nationwide contest with amazing prizes, and the results are in," the same host continued, completely oblivious, of course, to my inner turmoil. She looked like she belonged on a runway, with her glossy blond hair, a perfect smile, and mile-long legs.
"But that's not all. This contest gave Ryder's manager another idea," her brown-haired, golden-skinned sidekick trilled, because that was the only word I could think of that accurately described the inhuman noise that woman made. "Frank Renaldo wanted to give Ryder an inside look at the fandom behind his success, and with two of his movies out right now, there wasn't a better time. He had secret cameras installed in movie theaters all over the country to show Ryder and the world just how much we love him and his movies in real-time."
Secret cameras? Was that even legal? That felt like a serious invasion of privacy. Those secret cameras of theirs had obviously managed to capture Tori and me without our permission. I was sure I hadn't signed any sort of waiver on my trip to the movies.
Could I sue for this? I could always use some extra cash...
"Our producers have singled out the best clips for us to show you, and we also have a couple of surprises for all of you tuning in tonight... and for one lucky girl," the blonde host added.
"First things first, please welcome our special guest, Christian Ryder himself!"
Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse, they had to bring out the devil himself. If this was one of their surprises, it wasn't all that earth-shattering. A surprise visit from Christian Ryder during a segment dedicated to Christian Ryder – who could've seen that coming?
This was why I was wary of surprises. Well, no this wasn't why. The last time someone surprised me, it involved a clown with a criminal background, roaming hands, and a penchant for making inappropriate balloon animals on my 18th birthday.
No one believed his last creation was a sea cucumber. No one.
I rolled my eyes as I watched the live audience fawn over Christian's arrival. He flashed them a cocky smile and waved, further cementing my annoyance.
"Are you excited to see how your fans like your movie?" the blonde host asked.
"I'm pretty pumped to see what you guys have in store for me. Let's do it."
"Alright, that's what we like to hear. Let's check out some of the best moments captured by those secret cameras."
The first three clips were exactly what you would expect from Ry-Hards, as they were called: suggestive comments, squealing, and even some screaming. I wanted to just forget I'd ever seen that picture of Tori and me and turn the TV off, but my damn curiosity got the best of me. It wasn't every day that Tori and I were on TV, after all. I had to see this through.
"This next one has got to be my favorite," the brunette host said, holding a hand up to showcase the screen behind them.
A new thumbnail appeared, showing a different, mostly empty theater. I wasn't sure why they'd show one of his shows tanking. Wouldn't they want to give the impression that every theater in America was packed?
The next clip began to play then, the hosts giggling in anticipation in the background. It couldn't have been that funny, but whatever.
"Oh em gee, oh em gee, oh em gee," a dark-haired girl squeaked loudly in the video, swatting at her companion's arm as Christian Ryder appeared on the big screen in front of them. He was shirtless, because why not? If I had to guess, it had nothing to do with the plot and everything to do with eliciting this exact reaction.
But that wasn't what caught my attention. What caught my attention was the girl's voice. It sounded familiar. A little too familiar.
"He's unreal. I would, like, literally kill a bitch to meet him. Can you imagine what it's like, being that close to him? Ugh, I'm so jealous. I would die. Like, literally die."
"I know, right?" her friend, a red-head, said. "I bet he's even cuter in person. Like, can you imagine those green eyes staring into your, like, soul? And those abs – ugh, I just can't. His movies are, like, my bible."
Oh no. This was... oh no. There weren't many people on this planet who would compare Christian Ryder's dialogue to the bible in a non-satirical way, and there was no way I would ever be able to pass up the opportunity to respond if I was within earshot. Which I had been... a few weeks ago.
I watched myself respond to their comments on-screen, using a loud, annoying voice to mimic them. "Oh em gee, Tori, like, look at, like, him, like. He's so, like, hot, like. Oh em gee! I need, like, Jesus. Oh wait, Christian Ryder is my Jesus."
On-screen Tori giggled at my imitation, while the other two girls exchanged a look and let out quiet huffs.
"What's your problem?" the red-head demanded.
I watched myself turn around in my seat to face them. There had only been a few rows separating us, so it hadn't been hard for any of us to make ourselves known. The four of us were also the only ones in the theater. Sunday mornings in small-town Indiana were the best time to go see a movie if you wanted to avoid other people. Everyone else was either sleeping off their hangovers or going to church. "My problem is that my friend and I are trying to enjoy the movie, and your commentary is getting to be a little much. You don't have to add your own soundtrack to the movie."
Tori snickered and whispered something unintelligible to me on-screen. I had no recollection of what it was. I was pretty sure I had blocked that entire trip out of my memory.
The dark-haired girl narrowed her eyes. "And you throwing popcorn at the screen isn't 'a little much?'"
Guilty as charged. I'd bought a large bucket of popcorn that morning with the sole intention of using it as ammo. I wasn't sure who considered that heart attack in a bucket a decent breakfast, but I was glad the concession stand was willing to sell people popcorn and hot dogs at 10 a.m. Unfortunately, I ran out of ammo ten minutes into the movie. I kept throwing it at the screen whenever Christian's face appeared. Considering he was the star of the movie we'd gone to see, my popcorn never stood a chance.
"I was just trying to feed him like they do in the movies. That's romantic, right?"
Tori's hands flew up to her mouth, shielding the world from the horse-laugh that would have undoubtedly followed had she kept her hands at her sides.
"Oh, puh-lease," the red-head said, looking me up and down with what could only be classified as disdain. "Like Ryder would ever go out with you."
"And he would go out with you?"
"Um, yeah, if we were a part of the same world, he would," she said, fluffing her flat, straight hair. "I know how to make myself look good, unlike some people."
"Yeah. Sure. Nice makeup. Do you use a brush, or do you just dip your face in?"
Tori burst out laughing, and her laughter was so contagious I couldn't help but let out a chuckle as I watched myself make a fool out of myself and those girls.
"And that is why she's my favorite," the brunette said with a laugh as the video clip ended, and the spotlight was refocused on the hosts and Christian. She leaned down to whisper something to her co-host before turning her attention back to the camera so quickly I thought her neck might snap. "But who is she, exactly? Who is Christian Ryder's mystery girl? We'll dive into that... after the break!"
Okay... things were getting kind of weird. The whole situation had been weird from the start, fine, but it was becoming borderline scary. They were clearly planning on tracking me down somehow.
God, why did I have to go to the movies that day? This was all Tori's fault. I wouldn't have been there had she not begged me to go see that damn movie with her so she wouldn't have to go alone.
My phone went off right after their announcement, indicating a FaceTime call was coming through. I already knew who it was before I glanced down and answered.
"Are you kidding me?" Tori's naturally tan face popped into view at the world's most unflattering angle, her dark brown hair falling onto the screen. "This is insane! I can't believe we made it onto Hollywood Tonight."
I held the phone at a distance with a grimace. Tori's voice could hit octaves I didn't even know existed. "I know. I don't get it. I don't have anything to do with that guy. I didn't even want to go see his stupid movie."
Unlike Tori, my idea of a fun summer day didn't involve going to see a Christian Ryder movie. When we met in high school, I had no idea my best friend was going to turn out to be one of his biggest fans. Christian hadn't even started his acting career at that point. I'd never considered the possibility of having to sit through one of his movies without getting sick.
His career took off shortly after I met Tori at the beginning of our sophomore year, and he skyrocketed to fame shortly after. His fans were soon branded Ry-Hards, and they included people of all ages and genders. Unfortunately for me, they also included Tori.
I tried to listen to her as she took the break as an opportunity to babble endlessly about our debut on national television – her debut, technically – but I was too frazzled to really care. Her ramblings were drowned out by the end of the break. I looked up and, lo and behold, the hosts of Hollywood Tonight were still talking about me.
"We have several other clips of this mystery girl, and a lot of them have us guessing," the blonde said. "We don't quite know what to make of her here."
Her statement was followed by a video of me throwing popcorn at the screen every time Christian's face appeared. They only showed about 15 seconds of it, but it was enough to make anyone realize why I was doing it. Subtlety wasn't exactly my thing.
And then came the comments. Oh, the comments...
"The last time I saw a face like his, I threw it bread crumbs."
"God, he's like the human version of period cramps."
Me: "I love what he's done with his hair."
Tori: "Really?"
Me: "Yeah. I wonder how he gets it to come out of his nose like that."
In all honesty, if I had known I was being recorded, I probably would've toned it down a little bit, or better yet, just kept my mouth shut, but how was I supposed to know someone had come up with this ridiculous idea?
"There were a few others, but I think we pushed it far enough," the brunette said with a chuckle. The deep sound starkly contrasted with the majority of the sounds she'd made throughout the show. "As promised, one lucky girl is also getting a little surprise of her own..."
"This girl didn't just get featured on tonight's episode of Hollywood Tonight. She also won the grand prize in Ryder's contest, and that includes a FaceTime call from the Hollywood heartthrob himself."
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
What?
"With the little bit of information our mystery girl was nice enough to provide, we managed to track her down."
This had to be a joke. Was I getting Punk'd? I had to have been getting Punk'd. Were they still making episodes of Punk'd? Or was I a decade too late with my pleas?
"Tori, what did you do?" I looked down at my phone, tightening my grip on it. I could see my panicked face in the corner of the screen.
I knew I shouldn't have entered that damn contest. I should have turned my back the second I heard the words "contest" and "Christian Ryder" in the same sentence, but God, it had seemed so harmless. It was a contest created by a guy with a huge fan-base. The chances of winning were one in a million. There were hundreds of entries in the box at our small-town theater alone. When Tori had asked me to enter the contest with her, I figured it wouldn't make a difference and would appease her enough to shut up about the whole thing. Plus, she'd offered to buy me snacks for entering.
I was hungry, okay?
The thought of winning never even crossed my mind when I filled out my entry. Maybe it should have.
"Um, what?" Tori squeaked nervously. "I... This... uh..."
"What did you do? I didn't give them enough information to track me down."
Actually, I was 99 percent sure I hadn't given them any useful information at all. The only thing I didn't lie about was my age. Everything else I wrote down – name, address, email, phone number, gender – was total bullshit.
"Her name is still a secret, but we do have her cell phone number, and that lucky chica is about to get a FaceTime call from none other than Christian Ryder himself."
I choked. There was nothing to choke on, but I choked.
"Itookyourentryoutandwrotedownyourphonenumberwhenyouturnedaround," Tori blurted out. "I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd actually win. It was supposed to be funny. You were supposed to notice and stop me, but you were already looking at the concession stand."
By the time her words processed in my mind, it was too late. My phone was already announcing a second call coming through. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was on the other line.
"Tori, he's calling," I yelled, jumping up from my bed and frantically pacing up and down my room.
"Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God. Why can't this be happening to me? Wait, I know, transfer the call to me. I'll pretend to be you!"
"Is there even a way to do that? Oh, God."
I ran a hand through my hair and stared at the screen in horror, unable to stop my hand from shaking. I couldn't see Tori's face anymore, just an incoming call from an unknown number.
I sat down and stared at my phone until the call went away. I could hear Tori's voice saying something in the background. I could see her flailing around out of the corner of my eye. But I couldn't process what she was saying. When Christian tried calling again, I did the unthinkable. I hung up on Tori and impulsively answered his call.
I regretted my decision the moment I saw his face and heard the words, "Hey, this is Christian Ryder."