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  But after a while, the fame started to wear me down. There were nights after a show I just wanted to chill. I wanted to kick back, relax, and watch reruns of Friends with my best friend all night. Instead, I was signing autographs and giving interviews. I never seemed to get a break.

  And then there was this little voice, who sounded an awful lot like my Mama by the way, asking me if this was still my dream. Was this what I really wanted out of life? I mean, was this it? Since I was eleven years old I had dreamed of being a famous singer. A celebrity. And now that I had it all, I had to wonder if maybe Mama was right.

  At night I laid in bed thinking of a simple life, a life how I grew up. I remember Mama telling me when I was young that after she met my Dad, she realized any dream she had before they met wasn’t a dream at all. My heart was empty. I wanted that dream. But eating crow and going home with my tail between my legs just seemed too hard. What was I supposed to do? Quit? I didn’t even think that was possible.

  The unhappy days soon outweighed the happy ones. I didn’t want to perform. I didn’t want to record. Doing yet another talk show made me want to pull my toenails out one by one.

  Still, I pushed forward. The pressure continued to build and I knew I would eventually snap. I figured I would end up with a stint in rehab or some sort of public meltdown if I didn’t pull myself together.

  But another year passed as I made yet another record, and sold out show after show. I sat on another talk show dodging questions of my horrid love life. I waltzed through the motions of life but there was one problem: I didn’t have a dance partner.

  And then, six months ago, I’d had enough.

  “Thank you, Kansas City! God Bless y’all,” I yelled into my microphone. It was the end of the show. I was exhausted and sweaty, but pure adrenaline flowed through my veins. God, I loved to be on stage.

  After setting the microphone back on the stand, I strolled across the stage to the exit. I could see Sarah waiting for me just in the wings. I put both arms up in the air and waved to the crowd. Even after all these years it was surreal to hear thousands of people chant my name, likely for an encore. I already knew tonight we wouldn’t be going back out. Tomorrow night’s show was scheduled for Des Moines, Iowa, and since my hometown was only a couple hours away my parents were meeting me there. Tonight, I planned to head straight to my tour bus and get on the road.

  “Great show, girlfriend,” Sarah yelled in my ear like she did after every show, but I barely heard her. Man, the crowd was loud tonight.

  “Thanks, babe!”

  I shooed her with my hands in the direction of my dressing room so I could get changed into something more comfortable.

  As we walked through the hallways I noticed there was an unusual amount of people milling around. Most of the time it was just a few venue workers or employees of the record label. Tonight the fans seemed to be everywhere. We hardly made it into the main hallway leading to my dressing room when I heard high pitch screeches coming from every direction calling out my stage name.

  “LILY RAE!!!”

  “Oh my God, you’re my idol”

  “I Love you, Lily Rae!”

  “I want you to have my baby!”

  I could feel the blood pumping through my veins heat up a few degrees. When mobs of fans went into total fan girl mode it freaked the hell out of me. My palms began to sweat and the collar of my shirt seemed to tighten by the second. Soon, it was visible by the increased movement of my chest I was starting to hyperventilate. Funny how I could dance around on stage while singing my heart out and barely get winded, but a few crazed fans and I was gasping to catch my breath.

  Sarah stepped in front of me as two bodyguards flanked my sides and one brought up the rear. I gave the fans a small smile, a wave, and then put my head down to move forward. What I thought would be a simple walk to my dressing room turned into my worst nightmare.

  In a flash of movement, my cocoon of security seemed to dissipate before my eyes. I saw Sarah pushed to the ground, with one muscular bodyguard pulling bodies away to get her off the floor. The man at my left had two teenage girls on his back, clawing at his neck and face while screaming my name.

  The last bodyguard drew me tightly to the front of his body. Threading one arm around my shoulders, he used the other to push through the crowd.

  My head was spinning. How everything went bad so quickly, I had no idea. I felt like I was in the middle of some bad zombie apocalypse movie instead of walking backstage after my show.

  After a few seconds, I heard a grunt in my ear before the warmth at my back was gone. I was completely alone, and worse, accessible to crowds of people in the small hallway.

  I turned, thinking I could bolt for my dressing room. I took two steps before mobs of fans surrounded me. In a pure state of panic, I pleaded with them to leave me alone.

  “Please,” I said. “I need to get to my dressing room.”

  It was useless. The darkness was moving into my peripheral vision. Fearing I would be trampled by a crowd of people, I curled my arms around my head for protection. I could feel hands on my body, hear voices screaming my name. With a final breath, I prepared for the darkness to take over.

  “This is it. I’m going to die,” I whispered, and felt my body lifted into the air.

  I looked up into the eyes of Colton Jefferson.

  And if the fans made my skin crawl with fear, Colton Jefferson put them at a dead sprint. Being a slimy music executive, I was surprised he didn’t leave me to be trampled by the crowd. He’d surely make more money from my tragic death.

  “Hurry, in here,” Sarah said as she held the door for me. The moment Colton set me down and we were securely locked in, I turned to hug her.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled into her shoulder. It took me a moment to get my breathing under control.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. Sarah knew about the darkness that threatened when I was in a large crowd. Besides my Mama, she was the only other person that knew about my condition.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. Taking a deep cleansing breath, I turned to grab my bag and a change of clothes.

  “Lil, baby, there’s a few people here tonight I need you to schmooze with,” I heard from over by the bar. I turned to see Colton fixing himself a drink on the smooth, marble countertop. “And I lined it up so about fifty fans will do a meet and greet for autographs and pictures.”

  I froze in my tracks. “What?” I asked, barely able to register what he just said to me. “Did you not just witness what happened out there? There is no way I’m dealing with any more people getting too close to me tonight, Colton.”

  “Sweetheart –”

  “No, I’m changing clothes and heading to Des Moines. I told your assistant this already, Colton. My parents are meeting me there in the morning so I can spend time with them before the show.”

  “Babe, it’s a done deal,” he replied.

  “No. I’m not doing it,” I said. I walked closer to him, mostly so Sarah would be out of earshot. “You’ve made me do a lot of shit, Colton, but not tonight. I haven’t seen my parents in almost four months. I’m changing clothes and Sarah and I are getting on the bus to head out. Immediately.”

  I grabbed the drink out of his hand and turned on my heel to go change my clothes, thankful my back was to him as the alcohol made me wince when I swallowed it down.

  Within half an hour, Sarah and I were prepared for security to escort us to the tour bus. Colton had disappeared, but I knew he couldn’t be far. He never gave up that easily, unless it would benefit him in some way.

  The coded knock coming from the other side of the door was my cue that security was outside and ready to roll. My bags were lined up so the roadies could grab them and head out. Sarah opened the door and the fans went insane.

  There were now seven beefy men ready to put themselves in the path of destruction for us. Apparently they called for backup after our first attempt which made me extremely thankful. Fans were pushing and shoving fr
om every direction. It was pandemonium.

  “What is with people tonight?” I looked at Sarah and asked.

  “I guess Colton delivered the news that the meet and greet was cancelled,” Sarah answered sarcastically. “How very thoughtful of him. Well, into the lion’s den my dear. Unfortunately, it’s the only way to the bus.”

  We stepped into the corridor as the intensity of the crowd grew. Some were screaming with excitement to see me, jumping all over like they’d won the lottery. A whole row of people were lined up against the wall, holding their glossy photos and digital cameras. Fucking Colton. Making promises impossible for me to keep. Instead I end up letting down an entire group of fans who feel cheated out of their one chance to meet me. I felt like a witch heading to be burned at the stake.

  People were being shoved in every direction. Mothers with teenage girls who wanted a picture with me. Fathers with teenage girls who wanted a picture with me. High School and College aged kids, who were seemingly obsessed with every aspect of my life, shoved cameras in my face. Then there were the slimy middle aged stalker men who were just plain creepy. They didn’t have a teenage daughter with them as their excuse to come to my concert. They were there all by themselves. I should be thankful they bought a ticket, but yuck.

  As we got to the outside door I realized even more fans lined the feeble metal fence, creating a small walkway for us. I would have to go directly through them to get to the bus.

  You have GOT to be kidding me.

  Security was definitely earning their pay tonight. They were being pushed, hit, kicked, and at one point I swear I saw a girl lean in and bite one of the guys on the hand. Every time they’d shove into security, I’d get shoved into Sarah. I was holding her hand so tightly I’m surprised she wasn’t screaming out in pain.

  I could see the steps into the doorway of the bus. Home Free, I thought to myself. My anxiety level was through the roof with all these people so close to me. All it would take is one crazy person to stick out a knife or worse, pull a gun and start shooting.

  Just then a young girl, maybe eight or nine years old, slid herself between the rungs of the fence and stood in front of us. My bodyguards moved to push her out of the way but I yelled for them to stop. I was worried the crazy mob would ambush the little girl. As much as I wanted to get out of there, I didn’t want her to get hurt.

  I pushed through two of the big men and stood in front of the girl. She looked up at me with big eyes. Eyes that looked familiar. Eyes that were so deep blue they looked like the middle of a lake on a bright summer day. Her hair was a dark chestnut like mine. I stared at the little girl while security kept the rest of the vultures away.

  “Can I have your autograph?” she asked, holding her picture and black pen up to me.

  “Sure,” I knelt down in front of her. “Is your mommy here?”

  “Right there,” she said. I turned to see the mother wave and give the girl a thumbs up.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Maria.”

  “Well here you go, Maria. This man here will help you get back safe to your mom, okay?”

  “Thanks, Lily. When I grow up, I wanna be a singer just like you!”

  I blinked back tears as I stood up.

  And when I grow up, I wanna have a daughter just like you.

  My breath hitched as the tears threatened to spill over. I didn’t want the fans to see me break down. I grabbed Sarah’s arm and hurried into the bus. Walking all the way to the back where my private bedroom was located, I held my hand to my chest and tried to steady my breathing. I scrunched my eyes closed as tight as possible, but it only made the image of the little girl become clearer. I could still hear the screams coming from every side of my bus. Why couldn’t they just let me be? I sang for them. I danced around for them. I put on a great freaking show for them. I walked out on the extended stage and offered high fives and handshakes to the lucky people in the front rows. But now it was over. I wanted comfy clothes, my best friend, and bad reality TV until I had to slip into “Lily Rae” mode and do it all over again tomorrow.

  “What the hell was that about? Are you okay?” I heard Sarah come into my room.

  “That little girl,” I whispered. “She looked just like me.” I stared out the window, unable to look at her. “Like if I had a daughter….she would look just like that little girl.”

  “Don’t, Lil,” Sarah pleaded. “Don’t think about it.”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” I said as I closed my eyes. I grabbed my phone, pushed a couple buttons and put it to my ear.

  “Who are you calling?” Sarah asked.

  I just shook my head and looked to the floor. I heard the call be picked up on the other side.

  “Lillian, it’s late, is everything okay?”

  “Mr. Vangoal, sorry to bother you at this hour. I need to meet with you immediately. Can you be in Des Moines, Iowa by tomorrow afternoon?” I asked.

  Sarah’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, likely wondering why I was calling my lawyer at 11:30pm after having a nervous breakdown.

  “I think that should be ok, Lillian. I’ll have my secretary check in the morning and let you know the details. Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asked.

  “No trouble. I just need your help.”

  “Okay,” he said, but I could hear the concern in his voice.

  “Thank you. And please, this meeting needs to be confidential,” I stressed.

  “As always, Miss Raftzen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Mr. Vangoal.”

  I pushed the button to end the call and tossed my phone onto the bed.

  “Can you please share with me what the hell is going on?” Sarah asked.

  I stood on shaky legs and walked to make sure the door was securely locked. As I turned around, I could see the worry on Sarah’s face. I was always so strong and composed. Very rarely did I fall apart. And when I did it was always when I was completely alone. But now, the wetness that had hit my eyes was beginning to take form and fall down my cheeks in a steady stream.

  “I’m going to meet with my lawyer tomorrow afternoon in Des Moines,” I said quietly. “And together we’re going to begin the process of me quitting the Country Music business.”

  “Oh my God,” Sarah breathed.

  “I’m done,” I said. Then the sob broke from my throat and tore completely through my body. In between hiccupping breaths, I looked at my best friend and said the words I never thought I’d hear myself say, “I want to go home.”

  Chapter 2

  Iturned onto the street that would take me directly into Glenview. The two hour drive from the closest airport was a brief moment of peace for me. For years, I had rarely been behind the wheel of a car. I was constantly being pushed and pulled in so many directions at once, and then practically thrown into the back of a vehicle and off I go. Off to the next venue. The next photo shoot. The next interview or talk show or whatever the hell else they had planned for me that day. I had no control over my life. Sure, the $42 million I put in the bank last year made it a little easier to accept, but still. I didn’t even have control over that. My accountant and lawyers handled everything. One time I went to an ATM and couldn’t take out cash because my chosen pin number “wasn’t authorized.” What was up with that?

  As I inched closer to Main Street, I realized it resembled something out of a movie. Little Mom and Pop shops lined the picturesque streets. There was a bar on each side, a small grocery store, and a bank on the south corner. The flower shop sat smack in the middle alongside a cute little gift shop. It looked like a new salon had opened up since I left, as well as a photography studio.

  It was like Mayberry threw up, and out came Glenview. Small trees and vibrant flowers were planted in concrete barrels lining the street. An American flag hung in the front window of the post office. There were bright gold fliers posted every few steps reminding everybody that the Glenview High athletic boosters were hosting a meal before the opening
football game in a few weeks.

  I smiled when I saw two old men sitting on a bench in front of the pharmacy. I immediately whipped around and pulled in. Shutting down the engine of my rented Lexus SUV, I opened the door.

  “Hey, Pops!” I cried as I quickly got out of the car.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” he said, nudging the man next to him. “That’s my granddaughter, Lily.”

  The other man looked me up and down. “Um, hi,” I said with a little wave as I tripped up the curb. How I’d made it all these years as a celebrity being such a klutz was beyond me.

  “She don’t look like no rich singer,” he said to my Pops.

  I looked down and took inventory of my plainness. I had made a very conscious decision when I got dressed that morning. I didn’t want to come home all tricked out in designer clothes and give the impression I was stuck up. While I did have on a pair of vintage Levi jeans with my dark brown suede boots, my top was just a simple long sleeved cream colored tee. My dark hair hung low to the middle of my back in soft curls. I can’t say God blessed me with naturally kick ass hair; but he did bless me with an awesome voice so I could afford to pay someone to make me look kick ass.

  “What the hell you say?” Pops said back to him. “She looks like a magazine picture standing right here in front of me,” he said as he stood up and shuffled slowly toward me. “Always were the prettiest girl in the room,” he said, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  It was definitely time for a drink.

  “So does Jimmy still keep the beer cold in this town since I left?” I asked with a smile as I hitched my hand onto my hip.