Chapter Four

Natasha

I was left blown away after realizing the significance of that card and the meaning behind that gift. I inquired with everyone in the colony, and they all confirmed that there was no mention of anyone planning to send gifts to them.

I shared the email news with my mom and Clara, and their happiness knows no bounds. They are lost in their world of joy. When I told Clara about the received gift, she related it to the character in a book. She imagines that some guy has fallen in love with me and is now stalking me.

Just like heroes do in books and movies. Whatever.

But this opinion is only charming to a certain point. Like in books and documentaries. If it were happening in real life, it would signify that something is going to be horrible. I don’t know why, but I can sense danger looming.

It feels as though he might be adorning my grave with red roses.

I haven’t informed Mummy about this yet. If I were to tell her, it would only add to her stress. Moreover, her overprotectiveness could potentially jeopardize this golden opportunity I have.

Anyway, I need to meet with the director to discuss the proposal and other matters. But why did he choose my proposal after initially rejecting it? Perhaps this is just how he operates, a business of rejecting and selecting.

Bald fucker.

I must complete my household chores swiftly. The last time I went out in such a state, it took me two hours to tidy up the house. This time, I am determined to finish the tasks and set everything. I’m lucky that I haven’t thrown the proposal yet. I pick it up once more and make my way back to the studio.

𖥸

Today the atmosphere is as vibrant as it was that day. Starting today onward, my future will also shine just as brightly. I never anticipated that the negative thoughts I experienced back then would lead to such significant changes in my life today.

I step into the office room, and there he is, the bald man sitting on his rolling chair, facing the wall just like the first day. It appears that he truly maintains the same behavior whenever someone enters his office. Idiot. He turns around in slow motion and gives me a piercing gaze.

"Hello, Miss Bennett. How are you doing? Please have a seat." He says his cheap lines that make me uncomfortable. Is he genuinely like that, or is he attempting to hit on me? Because a man’s intentions can change upon encountering a woman, even if she happens to be of his daughter’s age.

"I received your email." I get straight to the point. I don’t want to tolerate his cheap and flirtatious behavior any longer. I hope that he addresses the deal directly and gets straight to the point of discussion.

"So, Miss Bennett, as mentioned in the email we sent you, we are interested in collaborating with you. We have reviewed and liked your proposal. The characters and budget have been finalized, and we are preparing to start shooting for the episodes soon.” He says rapidly, without leaving any space for me to interject with questions. I simply nod in acknowledgment, allowing him to continue his train of words.

He continues discussing the deal and future work, while I nod along, pretending to be as agreeable as a humble cow. In the midst of the conversation, he added his cheap, clingy lines, winking at me as if I were his flirtatious buddy.

Since I saw that email, there has been only one question lingering in my mind. I had already made up my mind to ask him, but his flirty behavior has enveloped me, making it difficult to bring it up.

“Why did you accept my proposal even after rejecting it?” I interject with the question in the middle of our conversation. “I know it may seem odd to ask, but I’m simply curious,” I add abruptly, attempting to prevent any discomfort or thoughts of my unworthiness.

“The producer personally liked your story,” he quickly responds before I can even apologize.

“Personally,” I repeat his words with a shocking expression forming on my face.

“Yes, personally. He liked it PERSONALLY,” He emphasizes the word ‘personally.’ My curiosity is breaking the walls. The producer liked my proposal and accepted it after initially rejecting it to my face.

“Can I see them?” I ask for a split second.

“He’s quite busy these days.” His response comes swiftly, like a functioning internet connection.

Shamelessly, I continue, “Can I have any kind of contact of them, to express my gratitude? After all, we are going to work together.”

His intimidating, drowsy eyes fix on me as I ask for his property or kidney. I can sense he won’t be able to grant me that.

I arrive at the parking lot, ready to head home. He refused to give me his contact information. The upcoming weeks are going to be challenging for me. As I enter my car, I notice a fresh red rose resting on the driver’s seat. And a card as well.

Why does he always leave a card? It’s so predictable and boring. I’ve already read plenty of romance books with that creepy stalker energy, but this is just literal crap. Inside it another stupid message.

Message : See you after one week, darling. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.

The car filled with a subtle fragrance. He had left the rose in my car. At that moment, I couldn’t help but think that this could be a significant sign that a stalker is now targeting me. Beyond the fear, a single question keeps echoing in my mind: how the fuck did he manage to open my car just to place that foolish rose?

Before throwing that rose and card, I cut it into pieces and shatter it. Right away I have made up my mind, whatever happens, I am determined to catch him on my own, no matter the cost.

𖥸

Finally, it’s the day of shooting. Stalker had previously mentioned that he would wait for me on the set. If anything happens, good or bad, I will be held responsible. I want to find him myself and see who he is. Even if the police are informed, it may not be very helpful. If I don’t put myself in danger, I won’t discover the truth.

The shooting location has been well chosen. It’s surrounded by greenery everywhere, with the first scene set in a jungle where the dead body is found amidst lush green surroundings.

I wonder why it’s always the director and his team who choose the locations, and not the writer. The place is bustling with a large crowd of people. It must be someone special coming; maybe they’ve selected a special cast for the serial. At least my story is not another typical daily soap drama.

I spent my whole week making some drafts and pilot episodes to shoot first. I haven’t gotten any good sleep in days because they decided to work on it as soon as they can. I also want to finish this project soon before my college exams so I can focus on my studies.

I turn my gaze around. A suspicious man standing in the crowd, blending in with others. Wearing a black jacket and a cap that partially hides his face. I can’t see his body posture or catch a glimpse of his eyes.

He’s maintaining his gaze directed at me, observing my every movement. Could he be the stalker, or just a regular person waiting for his favorite hero?

I slowly lift my head, taking a slow glance at him once again. He appears to be searching for something within his jacket pocket. He raise his hand, revealing a red rose and waving it in the air, providing a clue from the previous day. Filled with curiosity, I sprint towards him, but he vanishes into thin air.

Following him in this fucking crowd is a reckless decision.

Suddenly, a hand rests on my shoulder, causing my short hair to sway as I turn around. That bald-headed man stands before me, scratching his beard.

“I was looking for you, Miss Bennett.” He exclaim. I just nod in response.

He make me sit on the chair. Before he could say another word, the crowd around us grew even more excited. Some individuals became so overwhelmed with excitement that they began crossing boundaries and limits. The sound of footsteps echoes in my ears, blending with the chaos of the moment. A sweet voice reaching to my ears, saying—

“Hello, Mr. Miller.” I switch toward the source of the voice, and an innocent face is standing in front of me. In that instant, I stand from my place.

“Ethan Wilder. I—I mean Mr. Ethan Wilder,” I fix my words, showing some respect to the most popular actor from California. I extend my hand towards him, causing a handshake between us, introducing myself.

“I’m the writer of the story. Natasha Bennett. It's a pleasure to meet you,” he smiles, and the sight of his smile feels like a miracle. I have seen that very smile on television serials, but witnessing it in person, directed at me, is truly extraordinary.

We discuss the storyline and the main act for a while. Whenever I speak, he’s flashing a smile while looking directly at me. His small, light, curly hairs are swaying in the air, occasionally poking into his eyes. Engaging in conversation with him, I remain on the lookout for the stalker, but he hasn’t reappeared.

Bald-head sits beside me, engaging in a conversation with Ethan. I shift my gaze through the crowd, and I caught another glimpse of the man. He is foolish to believe that I genuinely care about him. On the contrary, I need to catch him, to discover his identity and the reason behind his pursuit.

I stand up from my seat, using the excuse of needing to use the restroom. I step out of the shooting area. I’m well aware that he will follow me wherever I go. And he’s doing it.

He’s following my every step. Before he could make a move, I’ll turn back and punch him. I roll my fist to punch him in a second. He pulls a run. I chase him without wasting time.

"Hey, this isn’t a jogging session," I yell. Stepping on a cement bag, I kick him, causing him to fall to the ground and injuring his arms. Before he could escape, I remove his cap and pull off his mask.

"Tell your boss to use his brain cells when he decides to follow someone. And it’s quite foolish of him to stalk me in a crowded place like the campus, and leaving behind a foolish rose and a card is not going to frighten me." I say in a single breath, spitting out my thoughts as I look at his face.

"R-Roger," he salutes, stuttering a bit and quickly running away from me.

“What a clueless bonehead who actually believes that stalking is a simple task. He should read some fictional books." I mumble to myself as I make my way back to the rest of the staff.