Rising Star of Room 7

1. Zach

ZACH

She was in my apartment. I can smell her perfume. It’s everywhere. Sweet and cloying. I can’t look anywhere without seeing a trace of her. The meal she cooked, now cold. The dishes she left in the sink. The trail of rose petals leading toward the bedroom. My bedroom. I don’t want to go in there.

“I’m not even into girls,” I mutter, realizing, too late, that Officer Vale is standing within earshot of where I’m sitting on the sofa. Couch. That’s what they call them here. I wipe my hands over my face. “I shouldn’t have said that,” I whisper.

“You’re not out?” Vale asks casually.

He’s tall and balder than I’d expect of a guy who can’t be older than forty.

He was taking notes, purposefully not crowding me while his partner was doing what I can’t bring myself to do: look around my apartment.

Are they looking for evidence? Dusting for prints?

My knowledge of cops and police comes from TV shows and films. There were more here earlier.

Two other guys, at least. They took her away.

I shouldn’t be this much of a wreck when I know they have her in custody.

Right now, I have to convince myself to answer the cop’s question.

“I’m not…” I can’t deny it now, so I press my lips together and shake my head.

Vale crouches, so he’s no longer towering over me. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to anyone. It’s no one’s business but yours.”

I blink at him. He’s been kind so far. He’s the one who took my statement, and the one who’s stayed with me and tried to keep me calm. “Thank you.” I stare at my hands. “She kept calling me Chase.”

He makes a note. “Any idea why?”

I smile weakly. “That’s the name of the character I played. I’m an actor.” I’d already mentioned that, hadn’t I? The last hour or so is a blur. I can’t remember what I have and haven’t said.

He gestures at my apartment walls, which are covered in film posters. “And a movie fan, by the looks of it.”

“Yes.”

Has he seen my film? I doubt it was even a blip on his radar.

I wish it hadn’t been a blip on hers, either.

I shudder, stand, and pace around the tiny living space, rubbing my thumb over the back of my other hand.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on me.

The apartment is so stuffy. Her perfume is too strong.

“I can’t stay here.”

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” Vale asks.

I shake my head.

“You’re British?”

I force a smile. “The accent gives it away, huh?”

He chuckles and scratches his cheek. “Yup. Do you have any family nearby?”

“Not unless you count five and a half thousand miles as nearby.”

“That must be tough.”

“It was okay until…” I shudder.

“I get that. She’s on her way to the precinct with my colleagues. She can’t hurt you now. Friends?”

“Umm… A few. No one I know really well.” No one I’d be able to impose on.

“I’ve got one or two more questions. Do you feel up to answering them? I can wait, if not. Would a glass of water help?”

“No. I’m okay. What do you need to know?”

He watches me for a moment, as if trying to decide if I really am okay or not. Eventually, he asks, “How long has she been contacting you?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I think she sent letters first. Fan mail.

Her perfume is familiar.” I go to the TV console, crouch down, open the drawer, and pull out a wad of letters and postcards that I’d kept separate once I realized they were being sent by one person.

I was right—they reek of her perfume, too.

I hand them over to Officer Vale. “There might have been more.” I rub the back of my hand against my forehead.

“I didn’t take it seriously at first. I thought she was just an overenthusiastic fan. ” I was so stupid.

He flicks through the pile. “That’s understandable. It would be easy to think that, especially at the start. Did you report any of these to the cops?”

“Yes, once they started getting creepy. They said there wasn’t much they could do unless… Unless…” She did something physical. Does breaking into my home count? I stand, arms wrapped defensively around my chest, and go back to pacing.

“You seem pretty shook up.”

I wheel on him. “Wouldn’t you be?” I falter backward, making myself small.

As small as I can, anyway. “I’m sorry, I— I shouldn’t have said that, or…

” I hunch my shoulders and turn away. “I am. I’m really freaked out.

” My voice wobbles. “She was in my home. I can’t— I don’t want to—” My voice breaks completely.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop tears sliding down my cheeks.

“I’m scared,” I admit, in a voice that’s so quiet and fragile, it sounds like it came from someone else. “How did she even know where I live?”

The letters and postcards had all come to me via my agent’s office.

They weren’t vetted or anything, just forwarded to me.

I imagine all the ways she could have figured out where I live, my memory honing in on an article that was published a couple of days ago.

Did she see it and figure out where I live based on the photo, or has she been following me?

If so, for how long? If this is a nightmare, I want to wake up.

“We’ll try to figure that out as part of our investigation,” Officer Vale says.

“Will she go to jail?”

“That’s not for me to decide, but I’d imagine so.

She’ll be questioned and probably charged.

If bail is set, it’ll be high. If she’s able to post it, it’ll be on the condition that she’s not allowed anywhere near you.

Although you might want to sort out a restraining order as well, for your own peace of mind. ”

Peace of mind? I’m not sure a restraining order can accomplish that.

“LA takes stalking seriously,” Vale continues.

“We have to, with the amount of stars we have living here. So, please, try not to worry. I know tonight has been a shock, but you’re unlikely to see her again.

” His words are comforting. They should be enough to convince me that I’m safe here, but they’re not.

I stare around the apartment. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.

It’s close to the Arts District in North Hollywood—NoHo to the locals.

It was affordable—just about—and I was able to get a job nearby, waiting tables.

My boss let me pick up shifts around auditions and, when I landed my first role, she promised there’d be a job waiting for me afterward if I wanted it, which I did.

The film might have blown up and become more popular than any of us imagined, but I was paid a flat fee, so I didn’t see a single extra penny.

Cent. I imagined myself staying here for the foreseeable future, but now…

Now it’s the last place I want to be.

She was in my home.

I’ve just outed myself to a stranger.

I’ve got nowhere to go.

I stumble to the sofa, sit, rest my elbows on my knees, and sink my head into my hands. “Why?” I mumble, not expecting anyone to answer. “Why did this have to happen to me?”

It shouldn’t have happened to anyone.

Office Vale squats down in front of me, his hands clasped between his splayed knees. “Look, I can see you’re upset by all this and that you could do with a place to stay for a night or two. Maybe longer.”

I lower my hands and blink at him. Exactly what is he suggesting?

“I know a place.” He keeps his voice low and soothing, like he’s talking to an injured animal, rather than a freaked-out actor. “A friend of mine runs it. There’s a room free, if you want it.”

“What kind of place?” I ask, cautiously. He’s a cop. I should trust him, but my defenses are up.

“It’s a haven for people who have nowhere else to go.”

I shake my head and shift my upper body backward, away from him. “I’m not sure that includes me…”

“I promise you it does.” He glances over his shoulder. We’re alone. I think his partner is in my bedroom. My apartment isn’t exactly huge. “You’re queer, aren’t you?”

I rub the top of my arm and nod.

“You’re scared, and you don’t have anywhere else to go.”

I nod after each statement.

“Then it includes you. I know things must feel pretty scary and overwhelming right now, but you’d be safe at Halo House.”

Halo House? It sounds like somewhere run by an angel. Or for angels.

“No one would need to know you’re there, which means no one will be able to find you.

Unless you want them to. Think about it, okay?

You’ve got options. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.

” He stands and wanders to my bedroom door.

He opens it and says something to his partner, but his voice is muffled, or maybe I’m just not listening.

A secret haven. Is that what I need? I need to not be here, in an apartment that smells of her. I could go to a motel, but would I feel any safer?

Officer Vale and his partner leave my bedroom.

“I’ve got everything we need. We’re done here.” His partner nods at me. “Have a nice night.”

Have a nice night! Is he serious?

He heads to the door, while Officer Vale stays put, eyebrows raised in a silent question—have I decided to take his offer, or stay?

I can’t stay here.

I stand, too quickly, the room spinning. “Umm, Officer Vale… That place you mentioned… I think I would like to go there. Just for tonight.”

“That’s a good choice, Zach. Do you want to pack a bag before we go?”

“Thanks.” I start toward the bedroom and then stop dead, my feet refusing to move any further.

My heart hammers, my skin feels cold and clammy, and the room spins.

What did she do to my bedroom? What did she do in there?

“Actually, I… I don’t need anything.” I go back to hugging myself. I must look pathetic. I am pathetic.

Officer Vale gives me a sympathetic smile. “Are you sure? We can wait outside while you do, if it’s privacy you need?”

I don’t, but find myself nodding anyway.

“We’ll give you a few minutes.” He and his partner step outside, leaving the front door ajar.