My Deadly Obsession
Author: Matt Shaw
Date: 2014-08-10 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror
Description: She does not know who I am yet. That is fine. A lady in her position, riding high with her music career, would have no reason to know me. Not yet at least. That is all to change though. I will edge my way into her life, I will make her realise that I am the one she is supposed to be with. I can picture it now, she will see my videos dedicated to her on my YouTube channel and she will drop every thing to come for me. We will be the perfect couple. Far better than her current boyfriend - the abusive imbecile failing in his own music career if you can call it that. Someone needs to do something a
Publisher: Amazon Media

Copyright©2014 by Matt Shaw

Matt Shaw Publications

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The characters in this book are purely fictitious.

Any likeness to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Sindy Cole - 1984 to 2014

My

Deadly

OBSESSION

M A T T    S H A W

A      SHORT    STORY

VIDEO ONE.

(Video Number One. Scene One. Take One.)

I nervously leaned forward in my leather office chair and reached for my computer mouse. Not sure why I am so nervous. It’s not as though people can see me yet. It doesn’t matter if I make a mistake. Hell, even when I am filming, it won’t matter. As long as I get it right in the end - this can take as long as necessary. I just need to be patient. Can’t rush it no matter how desperate I am for people to join with me in my celebration of her. Remember the saying: All Good Things Come To Those Who Wait.

I moved the onscreen cursor across to the record button and gave the mouse a click. A countdown played down on the screen. Five, four, three, two, one. The red light is flashing. Here we go.

This is the easy video. Video number one. A casual introduction. I sat back in my office chair and made sure I was completely in the viewfinder of the webcam. Don’t want to do something stupid and just film the top of my head - as pretty as it is. Fuck I look good. Hardly surprising. Took me so long to get ready. Needed to look my best on the off-chance she sees this video. I’m sure she will once word gets out about it. Her agent, or someone, will see it and point her in its direction. A thought flashed through my mind; imagine if she got in touch! Imagine if she sent me a little video message back saying hello, or something like that. How awesome would that be?

I realised the camera had been filming me staring at myself for the past ten seconds now. Great. Look like a bumbling idiot. I started to introduce myself and stuttered over the words. Jesus Christ. What’s wrong with me? It’s the thought of her watching this later. It’s thrown me off my game.

I leaned forward and killed the recording.

Fucking thing.

Okay. A couple of minutes to calm down and I’ll go again.

(Video Number One. Scene One. Take Two.)

The red light flashed.

“My name is James Edwards and I am Sindy Cole’s biggest fan. As such, I thought I’d set this YouTube channel up so I could talk to you guys about her, share my thoughts and meet like-minded people who love her too so - you know - if you’re a fan of hers, feel free to comment and we can get to know each other and share in our passions.”

I stopped the video recording.

Perfect.

I have more to say. Of course I do. Can’t very well start off with a video that short. It won’t encourage people back to my little page. Especially given the fact there are so many videos to choose from. I need to make mine stand out. Which is why I stopped the video now. I’ll pick it up again on location. That way it keeps things visually interesting too. Hell, I’ll even splice in some pictures of Sindy. It’s not as though I do not have enough of them to choose from. Been collecting them ever since she first burst onto the scene a couple of years ago. Pictures of her dressed in everything from a French Maid’s outfit, from one of her videos, all the way through to a sublime underwear shoot she did for one of the many lads’ mags who were lucky enough to collar her. Man what I would have paid to be on that shoot. So sexy.

I ignored the Twitter rants from people who said she dressed provocatively to detract from her lousy voice. All I can say is - when I read those tweets- it was a good job there was distance between those who wrote the comments and myself. Not that I would have done anything other than shout at them. They’re not worth more than that. Just a series of comments from narrow minded individuals or ugly little whores who are jealous. Fuck them.

(Video Number One. Scene Two. Take One.)

The trees are behind me swaying in the gentle breeze of the summer’s day.

“Why do I love Sindy Cole? Well - what’s not to love? She’s beautiful both inside and out. Luscious brown hair which glistens no matter what the time of day, a bright smile which can lighten any miserable day, eyes so deep you can see into the very depths of her amazing soul, a perfect ten of a figure and then of course you have that voice. A voice like silk which perfectly captures the lyrics of her heart-felt songs. There have been many singers before Sindy and I am sure there will be many after her - but none will come close to matching her brilliance.” I paused a moment to give the future viewers of my channel time to reflect upon my words. “Some of you might recognise the park I’m currently standing in. Well - for those who don’t - in two days time, Sindy will be playing her biggest open air concert to date and I’ll be right here! How many of you will be joining me? Feel free to hit me up in the comments. Maybe we could all meet up before the show?”

Cut the recording.

Perfect Take.

Nailed it in one.

I’m made for this shit.

It’s a shame I have to upload this now really. Maybe I should hold off for a few days until after the concert? I could always edit it up to the end point so it’s ready to launch after her show. I just think it would be more highly viewed if I have footage of her performing from the gig. Maybe get close enough to the stage so I can get some raunchy up skirt shots to encourage the perverts to come along and take a look too. Really maximise the viewing potential.

My heart skipped a beat with excitement as my mind - distracted by thoughts of her on stage - turned to the possibility of being pulled up on stage for one of her slower numbers. Maybe she’d let me put my arms around her tiny waist? Hold her closely, slowly dancing from side to side as she sings to me and only me. Sure there’d be many thousands of people watching but - at that moment - I’ll be the only one of any importance.

Fuck it, I’ll upload the video as soon as I get home. If there is a chance she sees it before the gig - she may well recognise me in the crowd. More of a possibility of being picked to go up there with her. Worth a shot.

Ooh, best get some new aftershave.

Read in a magazine somewhere - maybe the same one which released the photos of her in her skimpy underwear - that her favourite scent (on a man) is Davidoff’s “Adventure”. I’ve worn it ever since but am running low. Stock up before the show. Make sure I’m prepared for when she pulls me up onto stage.

Stop getting excited. That pessimistic little voice in my head again. Why can’t it just fuck off? Asshole thing pretending to know what is best for me. It knows nothing. Only I know what is best for me. And in this instance - what’s best for me is to get my ass down to the store to get more aftershave.

I packed the small camera back into its carry case which came with it when I purchased it a couple of days ago and took a final look around the park. Just think, the next time I’ll be here - she’ll be here too. How exciting.

* * * * *

Since finding her music, I haven’t really listened to anyone else. Occasionally I tune into the radio - if I’m writing a blog or something - to see if there is anything else which grabs my attention but there’s nothing. Everything sounds the same; loud and noisy with lyrics which could have come from a child. Lyrically she’s easily on par with Cash but even he doesn’t come close to her. I ended up binning my old music collection from my car. The disks just took up space and served no purpose other than to annoy me. I’d find myself searching through them all just to find the one Sindy Cole album I was looking for. On one occasion, in such a stress, I ended up throwing a Foo Fighters’ album out of the car window, into the path of an oncoming vehicle. Why I even had that shit in my car is beyond me anyway. It’s not as though they’d even exist today if it weren’t for Grohl murdering his so-called friend Kurt. One way to get ahead in the music industry I suppose - kill your competition.

If Sindy asked me too, or I was that way motivated, I’d kill her competitors if necessary.

I slid the last photograph (Sindy in a shiny-silver leotard costume) into the timeframe of the editing program and sat back admiring the picture. Whenever I find a new photo of her, I always drag it from the website I find it on and into a specially created file on my computer. If I really like the picture - and I usually do - I then put it onto a USB drive and get it printed off in the supermarket near my home. Over one hundred and thirty-two pictures of her stuck to the wall in here now. Over one hundred and thirty-two Sindy’s watching me, teasing me.

A scary thought nudged its way into the forefront of my mind; over hundred and thirty-two pictures of her means that I have had over one hundred and thirty-two self-love sessions. A masturbatory experience for each picture printed not that - at the time - I believe I am alone. I stare at the pictures and it is like she comes out of them and takes me in her own hand, her mouth, her cunt or even her asshole on days when the mood suits. Over one hundred and thirty-two incidents whereby I’ve spilt my seed over her.

I laughed.

Probably won’t be sharing that snippet of information in one of the videos.

I do not want to come across as a weirdo.

I clicked through the various menu options on the editing software’s extensive toolbar until I came across the option which allowed me to finalise the film. A few tweaks here and there, including naming the file and choosing where it saved it - and I hit ‘export’. A pang of excitement as I realised I was one step closer to uploading. It’s silly but I’ve been meaning to do this for a while now and there was always a reason why I didn’t; some poor excuse ranging from having a headache, to having an unsightly spot which would surely put the audience (and Miss Cole) off from watching me - all the way to the more serious end of the scale which saw me being chased down by the Black Dog of Depression. Well - no more excuses - this is it. Another hour, or two, and I’ll be live for the world to see.

I really hope Sindy gets to see it.

Fuck it.

VIDEO TWO.

(Video Two. Take One.)

I probably shouldn’t be filming right now. I should be taking a little time out to collect my thoughts and calm down a little but I can’t. I’m just too fucking angry and it’s his fault. Some jumped up hip-hop wannabe cunt who thinks he has the right to push women around.

I woke up to images plastered all over the Internet of Sindy’s pretty face covered in bruises; a split lip, a black eye, an unsightly graze on her cheek. The stories all read the same - an argument with her current (I’m presuming ‘no longer current’) boyfriend which resulted in being pushed down the stairs and punched. A battered face, a broken rib, and bruises on most limbs - she was lucky that was all. He could have broken her neck. Just as I’d like to break his. Part of me wondered whether he did such a brutal act in order to find something else in his shit fucking life to rap about. Must be hard trying to pave your way as a hip hop artist when your partner sells four times the albums you do, making you look like nothing but a rank amateur. Well now you look like a woman-beater too. A cunt of the lowest degree. I’d give anything to let him feel how I feel with the use of my fists and size twelve boots. Of course it means the concert is off. They said they’ll re-issue the tickets when she is feeling better. I can’t blame her for cancelling. She is hardly well enough to perform - although I’m sure she would. It was probably her agents who told her to cancel. I feel no malice towards them.

Obviously I jumped on Twitter to express my well-wishes to Sindy in a nice message. At least, as nice as one hundred and forty characters permits. Fucking thing. The people who devised Twitter clearly aren’t sociable people in real life. Conversations with them must be riveting; whole days and experiences broken down into fragmented sentences of shit.

“Jake Kelly, you’re nothing but scum,” I ranted at the webcam as the red light flickered away at the bottom of the onscreen box, “and I hope - one day - you meet someone who puts you in your place. I hope you feel what you made Sindy Cole feel when you kicked her around. I hope - more than that - that they break your fucking neck. Not enough to kill you though. I do not want you dead. I want you paralysed. I want you to live a long and lonely life confined to a wheelchair, unable to do anything for yourself. I want the people who are supposed to be looking after you to abuse you. I want them putting their fags out on you. I want them using you as a stress-defeating punch-bag after a long day. I want you suffering for many years. You rap about what a great man you are. You’re neither great nor are you a man. You’re a piece of fucking…” I tailed off.

I am as bad as he is.

I leaned forward and clicked the camera off.

If Sindy sees this video she will see nothing but a hate-filled man. She will see another Jake Kelly. They say violence breeds violence but - no - not in this instance. I’m aiming my thoughts at the wrong person - letting my anger and hatred drive me. I should concentrate on Sindy. My Miss Cole. Let my love lead me. I deleted the small thumbnail of the previous video and hit the record button once more.

(Video Two. Take Two.)

Sindy does not need to see more violence or words of hatred.

This is her hour of need.

She needs to see love.

She needs to see kindness.

She needs to see me.

“Sindy…” my heart was racing, it took everything to try and remain as calm as collected as possible, “… I’m sorry to hear what happened to you. You do not deserve such hostility. A soul such as yours deserves only peace, success, health and happiness. I am not a rich man…” at least not until the student loan clears, “…and I cannot provide you with more success but I can provide you with peace and happiness which - in turn - should lead to health. You’re a beautiful person and I know you wouldn’t usually look at someone such as myself but I want you to know that I am here for you. I have a heart full of love and - if you want it - it is yours to have. I will love you. I will honour you. I will cherish you. Today, tomorrow, forever. Death will not ever do us part.” I took a breath. “Sindy, I just want you to know that I wish you well. I love you and, that you make my life a little less dark.”

I reached forward and turned the webcam off.

Maybe I’ll add some kind of romantic music in the background? Something classical - perhaps - like Moonlight Sonata? Actually - no - no need to add anything. I should just upload it as it is. I do not want her believing I spent a lot of time planning it. As crazy as it sounds, I’d rather she saw how ‘off the cuff’ it was. Yes.

I’ll upload without any editing.

It’ll show her my love is pure without needing to be planned.

She’ll see how I genuinely care for her.

I opened the Internet browser bar and searched through the history for the YouTube channel I had created the previous day after I’d edited my first film. A little jump for joy when I noticed the stats for my first video indicated some views and - not just that - a waiting comment.

Something to read whilst the next video uploads.

I clicked through to the section which offered me the option to upload the next video - a few more presses of the mouse button and I had selected the relevant file to upload. This bit was always the hard bit: Whilst the progress bar of the upload slowly crawled across the screen, the site asked for various boxes to be filled in - including a name for the file. Yesterday I entered it as SINDY COLE - VIDEO ONE. Today it will simply be - VIDEO TWO. This way people searching for her videos on YouTube will come across it. There’s not enough information in the title alone for them to know what it is so - hopefully - they’ll click onto the link hoping to find a new music video or interview with her. Instead, what they get is me talking all things Sindy. The aim is to do daily videos sharing my love for her and reviewing her work - not that I can see me ever saying anything unfavourable. Today though is obviously different due to what happened yesterday. Today - they’ll click onto the link and see me telling Sindy that I love her and - to sum it up - that she should be with someone such as myself; someone that will care for her.

In the ‘about’ section I put the words: Jake Kelly is a woman-beater, show your support for Sindy. That way my audience knows (if they bother reading this section) the video is not to shout at Kelly like I had originally intended but, rather, to show our support for Sindy. Show her that, no matter what shit she is going through, we - her fans and loyal followers - are here for her and thinking of her.

A pop-up box appeared on-screen informing me my video had successfully uploaded. Didn’t take as long as yesterday but that was hardly any surprise. After all - today’s was much shorter in comparison to yesterday’s introductory vid. Satisfied another good job was complete, I pressed the site’s back button until I was on my own homepage again; a picture of me in the top left corner and my two videos in the centre of the screen alongside their descriptions.

I smiled.

Taking shape already.

Nice.

I clicked on to the first video to check how many likes it had and sat back to re-watch it as it started its auto-play cycle. I had watched it yesterday, when I finished it, but I have to say - I had forgotten how well I came across on camera. I looked good, I sounded good. I should get a job on some television channel as a presenter.

I looked at the counter for the number of times viewed. One hundred and seventy-three. Not too bad for a little under twenty-four hours since it went live. In fact I’m feeling quite proud. Under the counter was the symbol of an up-turned thumb and a down-turned thumb. Next to those were smaller counters showing how many people had either up-voted the video - or down-voted it. One for each. A fifty-fifty split of my audience. I guess I can live with that but I would have preferred one hundred percent up-voted. Ah well - I’m sure the more views the video gets, the more people will give it a thumbs up.

I remembered that I had notification of a new comment and scrolled down to give it a read.

It was one word.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

It simply read, ‘creepy’.

* * * * *

When you put yourself into the public forum it is a fair assumption that not everyone will like what you’re trying to do. Some will hate it because they genuinely do not think what you have done is worth being in the public domain and others will hate it because they’re jealous they hadn’t thought of it first, or because they want the success you’re clearly headed for. But what the hell was I supposed to do with ‘creepy’?

I spent half an hour going from page to page in the ‘help’ section of the website trying to find a way to delete comments and yet all I could find was the option to turn the function off of my videos completely meaning no one could write anything.

Can’t very well turn the comments off after - in my first video – I had invited people to share their own thoughts about Sindy with me. It would look unprofessional and it would drive the real fans away - no doubt make them go off in search of a place where they can have their say.

In the end I constructed an email, reporting the user as abusive, and sent it to the supposed customer service section of the site. I sat back in my chair, angry that someone had the audacity to call me creepy on the strength of one video. Paranoid I was giving off the wrong vibe, I even watched the video for a second time. I still thought I looked good. I still thought I sounded professional. Better yet - I sounded sincere. My love for Sindy was genuine and full of nothing but warmth and well wishes for her and her career.

Nothing to warrant being called creepy.

I hit reply, under the comment, and poised my long fingers over the keyboard ready to reply with as much venom as I could muster. I didn’t though. I simply sat back in my chair after going back to my personal homepage.

I couldn’t reply to the (obvious) troll. Just as I couldn’t send a message to Kelly. If I dared respond to either - I’d look bad. I’d look unprofessional. I’d look like trouble.

I wasn’t used to swallowing my feelings down. In all other walks of life I was quick to have my say and just as quick to anger. I could feel the rage bubbling within my stomach, almost giving me a stomachache, and yet there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to shake it off but every time I thought I had, the word ‘creepy’ kept popping back up into my mind.

“Just delete the video. Both of them. Start again,” a little voice in the back of my head whispered to me, almost as though it were too scared of my reaction to speak up loud enough to be sure I heard it. The same pessimistic voice which always spoke to me. Where does it get off telling me what to do? Yesterday it was telling me not to get excited and now it is instructing me to remove the videos completely. Fuck that little voice. I’m in control of me no matter how many nagging thoughts it pops into my mind. Fuck it to hell and back. I’m not deleting the video. It has one down-vote and one-up vote. Going by those statistics, fifty percent of the people who bothered to cast a vote liked it. I just need to concentrate on that aspect. Forget the negative comment. By tomorrow morning I am sure there will be a positive one too. Maybe even a handful? And - you never know - one of them could be from her.

Don’t get your hopes up. That fucking voice again. Although, I hate to admit it, this time I have a feeling it is right. There’s no way she would know about this video yet. She won’t know about what I am doing until it goes viral and even then - it doesn’t mean she will have the time to reply to me, via here or in private.

She’s a busy girl.

Well she was anyway.

Now she is recuperating.

All because some wannabe fuck can’t keep his hands to himself.

A thought crossed my mind; set up another account under a different name and email address…And then make a video response to what that piece of shit did to my Sindy. It needs to be done. He needs to know she has people like me out here, looking out for her. He needs to know that if he does it again, if she ever lets him get near her again, he will die.

VIDEO THREE.

(VIDEO THREE. TAKE TWO.)

Red light recording.

“I’m not sure about you guys but I couldn’t sleep last night. Just kept thinking about how Sindy must be feeling right now. It’s bad enough to be hurt like that but - can you imagine - it must be so much worse to know the pain she is feeling… The emotional and physical pain… It must be so much worse to know that it was caused by someone who was supposed to love her.” I took a moment to reflect. “Her song, What the Heart wants, was written in response to people who felt the need to get involved with her relationship when the pair first went public with their romance. I have to say, I was never a strong supporter of it, but I never felt the need to openly criticise her (or, at the time, him) for it. Looking back now perhaps I should have done? Perhaps you should have done? The naysayers were right to get involved. They knew where the relationship was going to end. They knew how it would go - what with his violent past and battles with an ongoing drug addiction. Sindy was silly to have continued that relationship. I still feel bad for her though. Whatever people say - whether she should have expected it or not - it’s still not nice to have to experience such a violent bust-up. Even worse knowing it is in the public eye.” A pause. “It’s annoying that all of this has happened at the start of this video channel’s life. It was supposed to be all things good about Sindy Cole - something for us to celebrate - but here it is dominated by the current situation - her pain. I do apologise for that but obviously it is something we cannot just ignore. It needs to be dealt with, just like any other non-favourable situation which may crop up.” A pause. “I’ve had my say though so I think we can move on, starting with the next video. If you guys want to leave a message to Sindy here - feel free to comment down below. You know the drill. And all that’s left for me to say is, Good luck with everything Sindy. We’re thinking about you. Always.”

I kissed my two fingers before holding them up in a ‘peace’ sign. Not sure where that came from but it didn’t matter. It looked pretty cool on the screen in front of me. I clicked the mouse, killing the recording and sat back. Two takes for that video - having stumbled over my words in the first which made me look an imbecile. I actually feel drained. The emotion that goes into the films really takes it out of me despite the fact they’re not very long. It’s hard.

As I took a breather I navigated my way through the Internet to my YouTube channel. A couple more views and no more comments. A shame. I thought it would have doubled by now. After all - it has been eight long hours since the last video. Maybe I need a little more exposure. But on a site filled with thousands, if not millions, of videos - how are you supposed to obtain more exposure?

I clicked through to her Twitter page and saw she had over 30 million followers. A quick scroll down and I see that she hasn’t posted anything since it all kicked off with her so-called boyfriend. In fact the last thing she mentioned was the gig she was supposed to be performing. Still gutted about that but I understand why it was cancelled. I scrolled back to the top of the page… 30 million followers. That’s insane. Sure her music gets heard around the world but, even so. If only I could get that level of exposure…

A thought: Put a post up on her Twitter page. Mention her. Mention my video channel. That would surely get people over to it - especially if I mention prizes - and, better yet, it will increase the chance of her seeing it too! Can’t believe I didn’t think about it sooner. What an idiot.

I fired up a new Tweet ensuring I mentioned Sindy Cole. As soon as you do that - more people than just your friends can see it. Not that I myself have many followers on Twitter. Not sure why. I follow people but they just don’t seem to follow me back. It’s rude. By giving her name a mention - using the old hash-tag system they have in place - it opens the message up to all of her followers. And then it was just a question of ‘show your love for Sindy here’ and a link to my YouTube channel. I didn’t go into too much detail for a couple of reasons. The first being the stupid letter character they’ve implemented and the second is I do not think more words are needed. The less said the better. People will be curious as to what I am linking to and will simply follow said link to my channel. Once there, hopefully they will add me as a favourite.

I navigated my way back to the YouTube homepage and watched the number of views situated next to each of the video preview boxes. It won’t be long before they start to go up in their hundreds. She has fans all over the world so even when we’re in bed, other people will still be clicking the link.

I can’t believe I didn’t think about this sooner. Imagine - what if she hired me? Some kind of role as her main representative. That would be awesome. We could have monthly (or weekly) meetings whereby she’d give me bits of upcoming gossip that I could discuss on my channel. Exclusives as such. I can picture it now, sitting there with her in a restaurant going through notes whilst jealous onlookers gaze upon us. That would be fucking insane. I’d feel like a rockstar.

Another view appeared on my first video.

I already am a rockstar.

I navigated my way through to the upload section once more. I need to get the third video up pretty sharp if people are going to start following the link on her Twitter page. I’ll need for them to see the videos are coming through thick and fast. By doing so it ensures they’ll come visit me again tomorrow or - worst case - the day after so they can be sure not to miss anything. Two videos is a little limp. Especially as the second was more of a video for her than it was for them.

Three videos is a good number.

I’m happy with three.

* * * * *

My mobile phone buzzed through a notification in my trouser pocket. I pulled it out and unlocked the screen to see what it was. A notification from Twitter stating Sindy had Tweeted something new. I excitedly closed the notification down, revealing the picture of Sindy hidden behind it, and put my phone to one side. Usually I’d check there and then but there’s no point when I am sitting in front of my computer. Makes much more sense to check there.

I loaded Twitter up and followed my notification there (stating the same as the phone). Her Twitter page loaded up and there - at the top of the page - was her message. A kind message thanking people for their support and a little reassurance to us that she was doing well. Nothing more and nothing less. Simple and to the point. That’s what I liked about her - she never made a mountain out of a mole-hill, she never took the hits - metaphorically speaking - and failed to get back up. She just dealt with things. I wish more people were like that.

Wait a minute…

If she is on now - and she must be to send out that Tweet - there’s a good chance she would have seen my own link. Excitedly I flicked to another tab and re-opened my YouTube channel. No new comments but a fair few new views. Another thumbs-up on the first video too. And one on the second! It must be her! She must have seen them and given them a like. That is fucking awesome.

Jesus, look at me, I’m grinning like an idiot.

Maybe the message on her Twitter account was primarily aimed at me? It must be. She saw the videos, she gave them an ‘up-vote’ and then wrote that message thanking ‘people’ for support. And it would make sense she said ‘people’ as opposed to me. I mean, if she thanked me by name, she’d then have to thank everyone who put messages on her wall by name too just to keep things fair. She wouldn’t have time for that. It doesn’t matter though. I know she meant it for my eyes only.

So fucking happy right now.

CHANGE OF DIRECTION

I went to bed feeling good about my life. The first time I’d felt such an emotion for as long as I can remember and it was all thanks to her and the message she put up for me on her Twitter page. I thought I was going to go to sleep fast, with a smile on my face and a hard-on under my boxer shorts, lulled into a peaceful (maybe erotic) dream by the many posters of her looking at me from the far wall of my bedroom.

Wasn’t to be though.

An hour lying here, wishing for the dreams to come.

Not just that though…

An hour lying here thinking I’ve made a mistake with how I am using my YouTube page.

Here I am aiming it at Sindy’s fans. What’s the point? They’re hardly being chatty with me. Had the page up a couple of days now and the only comment is a derogative one.

Fuck them.

I should be concentrating my videos on her.

She has seen them now. No doubt she’ll be checking into the page more often. Daily even. She’ll see how serious I am about her. Maybe she’ll invite me out? A chance to get to know the man behind the romantic videos? Now she is single - and done with her bad-boy ‘thing’ - maybe I’ll stand a chance? She’ll want someone good looking, she’ll want someone normal.

No more celebrities.

Just your Average Joe.

Step forward me.

I should have concentrated my videos on her right from the start.

Damn.

I feel like I have wasted time now.

No.

I haven’t.

Had I not started the films as I did then there is a chance she wouldn’t have seen them. She wouldn’t have seen that I genuinely care about her. Had I started the channel with films jumping directly into asking her out (and she saw them) she’d have thought I was just another weird stalker. That’s not me. I’m so much more than that.

And I’ll show her.

Tomorrow.

I’m supposed to be going to work in the morning. Only do three shifts a week between my university studies but I’ve already decided I’m not going in.

I can catch up later.

Sindy is my priority now.

Strike whilst the iron is hot.

Get the next film up there and I know exactly what to make…

VIDEO FOUR

I felt more nervous about this video than any other that I had filmed before. I guess it was because I knew the end goal I was aiming for; a happy ever after with the love of my life.

I set the tripod up in a quiet grassy area of the park - the same park she was supposed to be performing in. Behind me was a pretty flower bed made of up flowers with pink petals. Looked quite romantic, I thought. A tall oak tree. Maybe a metaphor for the kind of person I am? Strong, sturdy and - I guess - fairly rooted and clearly not going anywhere. I shook my head and panned the camera to the right a little. No metaphors needed. Keep things simple. Just have a background of pretty flowers. Normal women love flowers and I am sure she is no different, just because she is an amazing singer.

The camcorder had a swivel screen which popped out of the side, acting as a view-finder. I swivelled it around so that I’d be able to see myself in it from my position in front of the lens. Satisfied, I took a few steps back until I could see I was nicely framed.

I raised the camcorder’s remote in my hand with my finger poised over the ‘record’ button.

I hesitated.

What am I doing? What am I going to say?

I should have written something down. I should have had something memorised. It would have made things so much easier. Okay. Keep it simple. Introduce myself (again), tell her how she makes me feel and invite her out. Simple, straight to the point and - hopefully - effective.

Okay.

This is it.

I pressed record.

A small red light started flicking on the front of the camcorder.

Recording.

And action…

(Video Four. Take 1)

“Good morning, Sindy. I hope you’re well. My name is James Edwards and I just wanted to take the time out of my day to thank you for being…Well…You…” I paused a moment as I thought back to what I had just said, “…Fuck.” I stopped the camcorder from filming.

Sound like a fucking retard.

(Video Four. Take 2)

“Hi Sindy, I’m at the park where I was supposed to be seeing you perform…FUCK!”

I sound like a bitter man; annoyed because I didn’t get to see the concert she had been preparing to stage for us before he fucked things up for us.

Kill the recording.

(Video Four. Take 3)

“I’m not like other men you may know. I’m kind, considerate…GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

Never a good start when you run her exes down in a need to big yourself up.

Kill the recording.

(Video Four. Take 4)

“Hi Sindy, I got your Twitter message yesterday. At least I guess it was for me. You know the one, thanking me for my support. I have to say it meant a lot to me to know you were watching my modest videos.”

I stopped the recording before I ruined it. That was perfect. Sincere. And - added bonus - I didn’t stumble over my words or sound like a raving loon. If I can just keep that up for the rest of the film, it will be perfect.

I started to imagine the smile on her face when she watches it and - as a result - couldn’t help but to smile myself. I’m so excited about this but, at the same time, disappointed I hadn’t done it sooner.

I’ve wasted precious time.

I walked over to the camcorder and lifted it up (complete with tripod). There’s a large pond with a pretty fountain in this park and I can’t help but feel it would be a nice setting for the next stage of the video.

I do not have much money. Certainly not enough to impress someone such as Sindy with expensive jewellery or romantic meals in posh restaurants (I hope she likes McDonalds, they give you free ice-cream with student discount) but I can show her romance without the need for spending cash. Romance is all about the passion and the setting and less about the money spent on finding such joys. This park is one of the most romantic settings in my town.

Besides she chose this park to host her concert so she must like it. The fact I am here now shows we already have something in common. Two things in common actually. I’ve hated Jake Kelly ever since I found out the two were seeing each other. I’m pretty sure she hates him now too.

I found a quiet spot by the pond and set the camcorder up. A few people were watching me with curious looks on their faces which was a little embarrassing but it wouldn’t matter once the camera was rolling. Once that little red light was flashing there was no one in this shitty little world other than myself and Sindy.

(Video Four. Scene 2. Take 1)

“So - as you can see behind me - I’m in the park. One of my favourite spots. It doesn’t matter how busy it is - you can always find yourself a quiet little spot to reflect…”

A football shot in front of the camcorder and hit me in the legs - kicked by an overzealous youth some way away from me. Fucking brilliant timing. I picked it up and looked in the direction it had come from. The kid was laughing as though it had always been his intention to hit me with the ball. I flashed him a smile, turned to the pond and kicked the ball as hard as I could. I turned back to face him. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling. If anything - he looked gutted.

I raised my finger and shouted, “Fuck you!”

Little red light on the front of the camcorder flashing, capturing all.

Shit.

(Video Four. Scene 2. Take 2)

“The park is one of my favourite spots. No matter how busy it is you can usually find yourself a quiet little spot to privately reflect on your life. A little time out from the hustle and bustle of a busy life. It’s nice. I’ve lost count of the number of hours I’ve spent walking the stony paths deep in thought,” that’s good - shows I’m a deep-thinking, “…It’s nice having something like this on your doorstep because it does give you that little sanctuary for when things get a little tough in your life.” I paused a moment in an effort to slow myself down. If I keep ploughing on through, chances are I will make a mistake and I really don’t fancy a third take. “I’m sorry things have been going less than perfectly in your own private life. You do not deserve that. I don’t want to go on about that side of things - I am sure you have enough people to talk that through with unless, of course, you need another shoulder in which case mine is available.” A pause. I sound nice. Friendly. Genuine. “But if you wanted somewhere to get away from it all - I do suggest this park. And if you want someone to walk with you as you explore the natural setting - I am not only available but willing. No pressure to talk, no strings…I just want to be there for you.” I paused a moment before I smiled. A second later and I stopped the recording.

I left a gap between what I was saying and the smile on the off-chance, when watching it back, it came across as creepy. That little gap gives me a decent time to cut the play-back without ruining the whole thing.

Despite the hiccup at the start, I have to say, I think that went well. I sounded genuine, I sounded caring, compassionate, but most importantly I didn’t sound as though I was simply trying to date her. I didn’t come across as desperate and I didn’t come across as some kind of crazy.

Definitely a job well done, I thought as I began to pack the camera up.

ANXIOUS WAIT

I would usually check her Twitter page at least four times an hour to see if there was any news of personal appearances she was planning or gigs she will be performing at but since uploading the fourth video yesterday I appear to be checking the page every few minutes. It’s ridiculous. I know it is. After all she’s a busy girl and yet I cannot help myself. An unhealthy addiction some might say.

It has been four days since my message went live on my YouTube channel. Hardly any views and still a distinct lack of comments on it - or any of the other videos. A little bit disheartening if I am to be honest. Not because of the lack of views, or comments, but more so the lack of response from her. Yes, yes, she is busy. I get that. I do. She probably has a million other (more) important things to do usually but, at the moment, I know she is at home. I know she is at home and she is recovering from her ordeal. She’s probably tucked up in bed under a warm duvet, safe from the outside world. Maybe she is even gorging herself on various confectionary products to try and make herself feel better? I do hope not though. She has a lovely figure as it is. I wouldn’t want for her to ruin that in a moment of weakness. I’m sure she wouldn’t.

Even if she does; she can always go on a diet. Get back to the shape she should be.

The problem with knowing she is getting over her experience with Kelly is that I know she has time on her hands and I know, like any normal person, some of that time would be spent on the Internet. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t have checked in on our own social networking pages.

I know she would have.

She would have seen my video, she would have seen the Tweet I sent pointing her to the video.

I know she isn’t so busy she can’t Tweet at the moment so…

What is the problem?

The little nagging voice in my head suggested she might find me to be weird or - dare I say it - creepy like the comment on the first video. Maybe she is keeping a low profile on the site in the hope I’ll disappear? Well firstly that’s not going to happen and… What am I doing? Listening to the voice as though it has firsthand knowledge of what she is thinking. It doesn’t. It is as much in the dark as I am. Just need to ignore the bastard thing.

Hope it will go away.

It doesn’t and continues to taunt me.

You’re creepy, you’re creepy, you’re creepy…

Ignore it.

Push it to one side.

I loaded up her Twitter page again. A few more people have mentioned her in their own Twitter updates now. My own comment has been pushed down a fair bit. Damn. Maybe she hasn’t had a chance to see it? It won’t be much longer before it is completely swallowed up on there.

Hardly fair.

I wish she would follow me back so that I could send her a personal message with the link to my video. That would make life so much easier. Unless she has seen it and the prospect of walking around the park didn’t fill her with as much joy as it did for me? Always possible, I guess.

Well that is easily rectified.

I’ll just need to make another video. Something a little more lively perhaps? Something which shows I’m not just a caring individual but also up for fun too?

My mind went blank.

I do not have any hobbies other than listening to her music whilst scribbling away my university notes and even those have been neglected recently. Some things are more important though and - in the great scheme of things - I am sure my efforts for both my film work and my university work will pay off.

Getting back on topic; can hardly film myself listening to her music…

That would just be weird.

* * * * *

More than a week has passed by and still there is no word from Sindy, nor one of her representatives offering me an appointment to come by the office to see her. I’m starting to feel as though I am being mugged off. I’m starting to feel as though I am not worth talking to and that my efforts are not appreciated.

I have been struggling to think of a suitable video to film for her with regards to capturing my personality but that isn’t really a problem anymore. I know what I need to film now. I need to make a little two minute clip, approximately, reminding her that people such as myself are the ones who put her in the position she is in today and that she shouldn’t forget it. It doesn’t matter how much money she has now, or how much success she has - the people who made her are the same who can bring her crashing back down to reality. Gone will be the mansions and exotic holidays - replaced with a modest apartment and cheap weekend deals to the Isle of Wight afforded by tokens collected in The Sun Newspaper.

I’d like to see how she’d cope then.

Little red light recording.

(Un-used Footage)

“What you think you’re too good for us? The people who made you? If it wasn’t for us you would have nothing. You’d be just another lonely wannabe serving up coffees in some back-street coffee shop selling expensive lattes and cappuccinos whilst desperately chasing the dream which forever remains out of reach. We put you up there and we can - at any time - snatch the ladder away from you forcing you to crash back down to reality with a bump.” I paused a moment before continuing, “You didn’t have to come to the park with me. I’m a reasonable man, I would have understood if it were too soon. We could have just exchanged messages on the Internet for a while, maybe even a telephone call here and there…That would have been fine. Nice even. But to completely ignore me and the efforts I went to in order to reach out? That’s just fucking rude. Still- it’s nice to know what you really think of your friends. I will not buy your work again.”

Recording stopped.

There’s no way I’d send her that video, or upload it for others to see. No way on earth. I’m not that much of an asshole. I just needed to vent and get it off my chest. By recording it, like that, that’s what I feel as though I have done. I feel as though I have had my say. It doesn’t matter that she will never see it or know what I was feeling. It’s not important for her to know. There is also no way I would stop buying her work again either. I can’t deny myself the pleasure of listening to her majestic tunes whilst doing whatever mundane chores I am needing to do. Even if she were truly horrible to her fans - like certain other so-called singers who get a kick out of calling their fans ‘fat’ or ‘ugly’ not seeming to care the damage their slurs are causing to the young impressionable minds which hear them… Even then I could still not stop myself from going out purchasing everything to do with her; music, magazines with photo-shoots and interviews… Hell, even the poorly received (by both fans and critics) documentary following her around on her biggest tour…Even that was a must buy for me. A day one purchase.

I could never stop purchasing anything to do with Sindy.

Anyway I need to get out of this negative mind frame I find myself in. She will reply, I am sure she will. She’s just busy. Of course she is busy. There’ll be follow-up hospital appointments for the doctors to keep an eye on her bruises, her team (and herself) will be working on re-scheduling the gig she had lined up, she’ll almost certainly be knocking some songs out in a recording studio and - of course - there will be the interviews with the police; a necessary evil to bring about the justice Jake Kelly so rightly deserves.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I played through a new scenario in my mind; one which saw me and Sindy sharing a coffee somewhere pleasant and I, with an embarrassed laugh, tell her about this video. We’d both laugh at how pathetic I was in my desperation for a reply. She’d then apologise for keeping me waiting for so long but she’d do it with a grin on her face before reminding me that - actually - I had to wait because… All Good Things come to those that wait.

That stupid saying again.

Why can’t all good things come instantaneously? I guess, if they did, they wouldn’t be as good. I guess what makes something so special and amazing is the hype you experience as you wait for it to land in your lap? I don’t know. I just wish she’d answer me already.

I can’t do another anxious day waiting at my computer for her response.

I do have my own life to lead too.

A ROMANTIC DATE

(Video Five. Scene 4. Take 1)

I pointed the camera towards the zoo’s ring-tailed lemurs. No tripod on this bright, sunny day. Hand-held all the way.

“These are my favourite,” I said. I wasn’t on-screen for her to see because I didn’t need to be. This video was for her to see what she could be seeing with me for real. She’d hear my voice but she’d see the lemurs just as she would if she were here, standing by my side. The lemurs were all sun-bathing with their arms outstretched, bellies pointing up to the sun. Always made me laugh when I saw them like that, no matter how bad my mood was. “I think it’s because I can relate to them,” I laughed to the camera. “As soon as the sun comes out - I’m out there, on the sun-lounger, in exactly the same position. Although I can’t remember the last time I went away - not properly. Went to Butlins last August but…Yeah…Rained the whole damned time.”

Feeling deflated, I killed the recording.

I sound desperate for a holiday. She might get the wrong idea and think I’m just after her money but that’s not the case. I mean the money will be nice and I am sure she’ll be sharing her wealth with me - seeing as we’ll be a couple - but I don’t want her thinking that is all I am after. My love for her is pure and innocent. It’s not driven by financial gain.

Why is this so difficult?

I turned the camera off to save the battery.

Charge the damned thing all night and still you only get a couple of hours usage.

I wasn’t much in the mood for looking around the zoo now. The frustration caused by the video took the joy I usually felt from seeing the animals completely out of me. I felt like I needed to kick something, smash something even, and the hustle and bustle of the crowds did nothing to calm my irritation. I dropped the camera into my shoulder bag and stormed towards the exit. A waste of the park’s steep entrance fee.

I know they need to think about the upkeep of the animals but - seriously - how much can a bale of hay be? Feels like I’m paying for the upkeep of the various breeds of wildlife and I’m also paying for the upkeep of a small country. Like Africa itself.

Robbing cunts.

That little voice in my head pointed out it wasn’t the zoo’s fault I was unable to perform on camera. Unable to perform on camera? What the fuck? It makes it sound like I am making some kind of pornographic movie. The voice continued berating me in my head; if I should be angry with anyone, I should be angry with myself for being a retard.

Well, thanks.

(Unused footage)

“You can’t bring that in here.”

The usher was nothing but a spotty turd, a few years younger than myself. The way he was leaning over to where I was sitting, in the comfort of my luxury seat I had purchased, getting all up in my face was pissing me right off. More so because the red light was flashing and my embarrassment was being caught on camera. The audio at least. The lens was pointing towards the large screen.

He continued, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What are you doing?” I hissed. I tried to keep my voice low so it wouldn’t be caught on the audio but I knew - deep down - it didn’t matter how low I hissed. The camcorder’s microphone was shit hot. It would pick it up - along with the sniggers from the people behind me who’d obviously reported me. “I’m a date, you cunt! Fuck off.”

I’m not usually this aggressive.

At least…

I’m not usually as quick to flare up as I am doing now.

I’d chosen a romantic film to show Sindy I’m not one of those stereotypical blokes who only watches horror. The fact that the last film I saw was Matt Shaw’s Sick B*stards was nothing but a coincidence…I’d chosen a large popcorn (sweet), a large drink and a pouch of chocolate buttons; all of which show that when I go out for an evening, I like to treat my date to every possible thing she could want. Unless she likes salt popcorn. I don’t do salt popcorn. Ever. I had paid my money, I had set the camera up to film what she’d be seeing if she were with me and now I’m being hassled by some jumped up little prick who thinks I’m going to be making pirate copies of the film to sell on.

“You know who this tape is for?” I continued, “Sindy fucking Cole, mate. I’m doing this for her. All of this. The seat, the food, the gay fucking film…It’s all for her and you’re ruining it. So why don’t you do me a favour and turn around and fuck off to wherever you go when you’re not hassling people such as myself. Prick.”

“If you’re not willing to leave, I’m going to have to call my manager.”

“Go ahead, fucking call them. I don’t give a shit.” I noticed the boy was about to say something else so I silenced him by slamming the camcorder’s viewfinder shut - killing the recording in the process. “You know what…Doesn’t even matter. You’ve fucking ruined it for me. Selfish fucking cunt.” I dropped the camcorder into its shoulder bag and pushed past the turd to get to the stairs. The group of teenagers seated behind the seat I’d occupied were laughing louder than before. I paused on the stairs, a moment. My options were weighing up in my mind; turn around and confront them, lash out maybe, or just walk away with my head held up high?

I turned around.

“You cunts got a problem? Something on your mind?”

The usher’s face changed. Whereas earlier he was acting like the big man, now he just looked worried. He reached for a walkie-talkie which was hooked over his belt.

“Can a manager come to screen one, please.”

“Just fuck off!” one of the teenagers yelled at me.

“What did you say? You talking to me? Or him?”

“You, you prick, fuck off…”

* * * * *

(Unused footage)

Red light flashing. Camcorder recording.

I was captured perfectly in the viewfinder (swivelled around so I could see from the front of the camera). A cut above my eye, blood trickling down. I looked at my hand. Bruised.

I looked at myself in the viewfinder I look like shit but, the mouthy dick on the screen, he looks worse. A pathetic little runt who thought he’d stood a chance going against someone such as myself.

Sitting here on a park bench, having run from the cinema before the authorities showed up, I was going to film an apology. More so just to get it off my chest and cleanse my soul. I wasn’t going to show it to anyone. No words to say, though. I feel like a cunt.

I feel like Jake Kelly. Well - a version of Jake Kelly anyway. At least the person I took my frustrations out on was a male. I’m no woman-beater.

SHOCKING NEWS

I went to bed thinking of Jake Kelly last night. It was not by choice. I just could not get him out of head. I tried to think of Sindy and I was stuck with thoughts of him instead. A most unpleasant experience which was only to worsen when I woke up this morning.

I went online to find new pictures (without bruises) of Sindy but instead I found various News reports featuring her and Kelly. Despite what he had done to her, his violent outburst, she was apparently giving him another chance. I read the reports and I felt sick to my stomach. So much for giving me a go. We could have had something special, the two of us, but instead I was brushed to one side for a woman-beating motherfucker. Did she honestly expect him to be able to keep his hands to himself? Does she really think she is worth that little that she believes she should put up with things like that? I would never have treated her like that. Never.

I had been sitting dumbfounded for about half an hour now. Staring at the computer screen - still displaying the heart-breaking report.

So much for that message on her Twitter account.

Fucking prick-tease.

Ugh. The thought of her and him together, the thought of him touching her. It made me feel sick to my stomach. How could she let him touch her intimately with hands that were used so aggressively only days earlier? It doesn’t make sense. And the depressing thing is - I know there are other people out there who are in exactly the same position. Sindy is supposed to be a role model to people such as us; the little people. She should show how it is possible to leave behind the pathetic women-beaters to start a new life without them but instead she is showing it is okay to stand by them, it is okay to forgive them.

Someone should tell her what she is doing.

(Unused Footage)

“I’m not sure what you’re playing at. I love you. You know I do. But I do not understand why you’d wish to stay with someone like that. Of course I am referring to the so-called love of your life. Mr Kelly. The man is poison. I’m loathed to even call him a man after what he did to you. He isn’t a man. But he is dangerous. I do not know what shit he put in your head, to give him a second chance, but you need to know a leopard never changes their spots. Once a cheat, always a cheat. Once a woman-beater, always a woman-beater. People look up to you. They respect you. How are they, we, able to do that when you show yourself to be weak because that is exactly what you are; you’re weak to go back to him. Strength - and respect - would be yours if you were to leave him. Show the world you’re not going to put up with behaviour like that and neither should they if they’re in a similar position.” I felt my face reddening as my anger continued to bubble away. Not because of the ‘forgive and forget’ attitude she was giving off to people in her position but more because of the thought of the two of them together. The thought of him sticking his cock in her delicate vagina. The thought of him shooting her load into her, over her - wherever he wanted - and the thought of him pushing her into things she may not necessarily be comfortable with. Like anal. She’s too pure for that. Jesus - I’ll probably wake up in the morning to find she has been coerced into filming a fuck tape with him; one which he then goes on to sell, behind her back, to the highest bidder. I wonder if the shame would be enough for her to realise he isn’t going to change?

I’d still watch the film though.

“Kick him into touch,” I warned her, “or get one of your many fans to do it. I’m sure we would all be willing to lend a helping hand - or bat. Whatever the method, just get rid of him before he destroys you and everything you stand for. This is not a threat. This is a promise. He will ruin you.”

* * * * *

I killed the camcorder by hitting the ‘stop’ button. The red flashing light ceased immediately.

Of course I wasn’t going to upload that video, just like some of the others it was done for my benefit. A way of venting to get it out of my system. Besides - even if I did upload it, she wouldn’t have watched it all the way through. As soon as she would have seen what the film was about, she would have stopped the playback. Too blinded by her mis-placed love for an idiot. What she needs is someone to pull her to one side, face to face like. Someone she is forced to listen to. Someone she can’t hit the ‘stop’ button on.

It so happens I know where she lives. I found her address on one of those ‘star maps’ you can buy from people loitering outside some of the finer restaurants in the tourist area of town. I actually thought that maps were fake, if I am going to be honest. I thought they just had them printed up and put any old name next to some of the houses along with a handful of houses which didn’t have a name next to them; after all it would be highly unlikely they all live next door to each other. I’m sure there is no such thing as Celebrity Street and that a ‘normal’ person, or two, lives there too. Can you imagine that? Looking out of your front window one morning to see the removal men parked up outside the house. A black limo behind that with Sindy fucking Cole sitting in the back of it.

Had I been her neighbour, I would have definitely ventured round to borrow some sugar.

Anyway tomorrow I’ll go round her house. I’ll buzz on the intercom system and I’ll explain to whoever answers it that I am there to have a chat with Sindy. Could even lie and tell them she is expecting me. Maybe a quick video uploaded to warn her I am coming? Or would it be better to just show up?

Not sure.

Not sure what the etiquette is for something like this.

Hopefully she will invite me in. Maybe even offer me a hot drink of some description. Black coffee, I think. Two sugars. If she goes to have sugar I’ll stop her. I’ll tell her she doesn’t need any as she is already sweet enough.

Yeah.

I like that.

It’s smooth.

VIDEO SIX

(Video Six. Take 2. Scene 1)

Red light flashing.

I’m captured perfectly in the viewfinder as I sit in my office.

A serious look on my face.

“Sometimes in life we are blind to what we’re doing, lead astray by feelings we believe are genuine despite the fact they’re not. You see, our brains get confused. It is nothing to be embarrassed about - happens to everyone. Especially when we have so much stress going on in the rest of our lives. This is what is happening with Sindy Cole and Jake Kelly. She is back with him because she is confused. She thinks it is what she wants but it isn’t. It is far from what she actually wants. Her brain is simply muddled at the moment and - like I said - that is fair enough. She has been hurt both emotionally and physically, she has the stress of pulling out of her concert and having to re-organise it. There are probably a million and one people around her clamouring for interviews with her about the beating she took and - now - why she has taken him back. It’s easy to understand why her muddled brain took Kelly back. I have to confess, at first, I was a little upset - angry even - but having taken the time to really understand what is going on in her head…Having taken the time to look at the bigger picture - I can see what is going on.” A breath. “It’s times like these when we need our friends around us to help give us guidance and steer us in the right direction - but I have a feeling her friends, the people around her, are paid to be there in other capacities such as tour managers, agents, accountants, publicists etc. I believe these people will be too scared to approach the subject with any of their own opinions for fear of losing their jobs because of a single mis-placed word. These aren’t healthy people to have around you when it comes to offering advice. They’re probably telling her she is doing the right thing so they can get closer to a pay-rise. Such is human nature and the greed to succeed.” Another breath. Give people time to reflect. “It is times like these when we need good people around us though, people who are not scared to muddy their relationship for the greater good. Yes, to begin with, Sindy may be angry that someone has dared question her choices but - in the long run - when she is settled down with a nice person, maybe with a kid on the way and surrounded by love and affection with no threat of another beating…When that time comes she will be thanking the person who initially got involved.” Another pause. A smile to the camera. “She will be thanking me.”

(Video Six. Take 1. Various scenes)

Red light flashing at various stages of my trip, capturing the different sights and sounds on the way to her home.

(Interview One - UNUSED FOOTAGE)

Camera pointed to a pretty girl. Looks to rival those of Sindy. Had I not been so close to becoming ‘official’ with Sindy, I might have chased this girl for a while.

“It’s just a few questions,” I said (off camera).

The girl was blushing. The friend she was with (not in shot) was laughing at her friend’s obvious embarrassment. She clearly hadn’t been expecting to be on camera today.

“Okay, what’s it for?” she laughed.

“My YouTube channel.”

“Really? Oh God…”

“You’ll be fine. You look like you’re born to be in front of the camera.”

The girl laughed again.

“Do you listen to music?”

“Yes,” the girl looked bemused.

“What sort of music do you like?”

“You’re not going to start singing at me, are you?”

“No. Come on. What sort of music do you like?”

“I like chart stuff, some RnB, some hip hop…I don’t know…It depends on my mood I guess.”

“Fair enough. And what do you think of Sindy Cole?”

The girl frowned, “You want to talk music and you ask about some singing competition reject?”

Her friend laughed.

“What’s your name?”

“Piper…”

Camera turns to me, “And so there you have it, ladies and gentleman, Piper is a cunt who knows absolutely nothing about music.”

Camera turns back to her.

“What did you say?”

“Come on, let’s go!” her friend dragged her away.

I called out after them, “And your taste in clothes is shit too. You look like a cheap whore!”

(Interview Two)

“You love her?” I asked.

A teenage girl with braces and red hair is on camera. She nods enthusiastically.

“I bet I love her more than you do,” I challenged her.

“No way, I have everything she has ever done.”

“What about the magazines she appears in? You know I have two copies of each; one that I can read whenever the mood takes and one that remains forever pristine.”

“Okay, that’s a little weird.” She laughed.

“What’s your favourite song?”

“I like them all.”

“You must have a favourite. One that you play more than the others.”

“Lonely Life,” she explained, “the one about growing up in a household which apparently didn’t really know she was there. Her abusive father and her distant mother. I can relate. It’s haunting lyrics are beautiful.”

“I like What the Heart Wants.”

“That’s good too. I don’t know…There are so many to choose from.”

“And if you could pass a message on to Sindy, what would you say?”

“I’d tell her I love her!”

“I’m actually on my way to her place now. I’ll show her the video!”

“Oh my God! Really?” She laughed, “Can I come?”

“Sorry - I’m not supposed to be taking people with me. But she will see your clip. Keep an eye on my YouTube channel and I’ll try and get her to record a video message back to you!”

“Really? That would be amazing!”

(Video Six. Various scenes)

The rest of my journey, to her home, is documented with a further brief video montage of the sights and sounds. No more interviews though. Can’t beat the little red haired girl. Her reaction was amazing. Great footage.

HOME SWEET HOME

(Video Six continued.)

I reached the road where Sindy’s home was. A long street of some of the biggest houses you’ve ever seen, or at least only glimpsed on MTV Cribs where the cameras have been given unlimited access to what lies within. I filmed the walk up to the gated entrance and wondered whether potential viewers would be able to tell there was a skip in my step - not just because I was back at her house (having previously visited but always been too afraid to speak on the intercom) but because my mind was teasing me with the prospect of being invited in, with the camera, to film a Cribs-style show. How awesome would that be?

I imagine her home is beautifully decorated with the finest of furniture. I don’t reckon it will be overly crowded. If anything - tastefully minimalistic. Maybe even one of those beds with the large flat screen television set in the end? I’ve always wanted one of those. Mind you - I start dating her - and I guess I’ve got one!

First things first though, I need to get my mind on the game. I need to talk her out of her decision to be with Kelly. Poisonous little prick that he is.

As I neared her home - and the intercom - I raised my hand into the shot so the viewers would be able to see me press the intercom button. One button press and my life is about to change.

Exciting.

I pressed the buzzer and waited for an answer.

Ringing.

Heart racing.

Ringing.

Click.

The Intercom lit up.

Crackled male voice, “Good morning.”

Yes, it is.

“I’m here to see Sindy Cole,” I said, trying to sound as official as possible.

“I’m sorry, Miss Cole isn’t here at the moment.”

“She’s expecting me,” I lied. Had I uploaded the first part of video six last night, she may well have been expecting me to show up but I hadn’t. I kept it to upload all in one - along with the footage from today and, with any luck, a one to one interview with her on camera.

“I’m sorry, Miss Cole isn’t here at the moment. If you have an appointment, please call through to her agent and reschedule.”

“No, you don’t understand, she was expecting me for today. We had an agreement.”

The voice on the other end of the intercom was quiet. I went to say something else, to further my argument, but the lights around the intercom system turned off suggesting the person on the other end had disconnected.

“Hello?”

No answer.

I killed the red flashing light.

Fuck.

Now what?

* * * * *

I’m not sure how much time had passed. I was sitting on the grass verge next to Sindy’s property in the hope she’d either come home or the person I’d been communicating with would come out - a sheepish grin on his face as he explains she is in and I am welcome to visit. She has to be in. Her face was battered. Why would she go out looking like that? Where would she even go? Unless, of course, she has gone to the hospital. Or maybe to fetch some pain relief to dull the searing pain he’d caused her? No. She has people for that. She wouldn’t need to go out. She’d just send them to fetch her tablets. If I were in her position, with her wealth, I know that’s what I would do.

I checked my watch; late afternoon.

Where the fuck is she?

Why is she keeping me waiting like this?

Is this a test?

Yes.

A test.

That’s it. She is testing me to see how serious I am about her. The longer I sit here waiting, in the knowledge I won’t be seeing her, the more serious I am about her. A weird test but I guess it proves to her I’m not some kind of five minute weirdo. It proves I’m serious and won’t quit on her when the going gets tough. Yes. This is definitely a test. One I don’t plan on failing.

(Video Six. Continued)

Red light recording.

“So I am sitting outside Sindy’s home. She is testing me at the moment. Her people are pretending that she is out. She’s doing this on purpose, you see, to test that I am going to stick with her through thick and thin. If I were to get up and walk away at the first hurdle then she would know I’m not serious about her. She’d know that - when the going gets tough - I’d run off. It’s important for someone in her position that she surrounds herself with people who will be there for her, no matter what. So here I am, sitting outside her home. Hours have passed but the important thing is - I haven’t gone anywhere. I’m still here for her. And if need be, I’ll be here all night. Because that is what friends do.”

Recording terminated.

(Video Six. Continued)

Night-vision is on. Perks of getting a decent camcorder.

I’m looking at myself in the viewfinder. I’m not sure whether it’s the green light of the night-vision or because I’ve been sat out here most of the day - but I do look like shit. I hope - when she comes out - she doesn’t hold that against me.

I licked my hand and ran it through my hair, trying to give it a little style. It looks terrible. It looks flat. I checked myself in the viewfinder again. It’s not perfect but it is definitely better.

My heart skipped a beat when the electronic gates, blocking off her driveway, opened up and a car drove down towards me. I climbed to my feet and pointed the camera towards the car. As it pulled up next to me - and slowed down, I half expected Sindy to climb from the car with a beaming grin on her face as I had past her test. Imagine my surprise when the door opened and a security guard climbed out. At least I presume he is a security guard; white shirt, black trousers - very official.

“What are you doing?” he asked - his eyes fixed on the camcorder filming him.

“I’m here to see Sindy.”

“I told you this morning - she isn’t here.”

“Okay, okay. I know what you’re doing…”

“You do?”

“This is a test. Make sure I am serious. Make sure I am sticking around…Not put off by the first obstacle.”

“Look I don’t know if you have a screw loose, or something, but I’ve told you - she isn’t here. She’s not home at the moment. She’s gone out. Away.”

“Away?” I couldn’t help but smile. The man was convincing. No wonder she employed him.

“With her boyfriend.” He hesitated a moment and turned his attention back to the camera, “Can you stop recording please.”

The smile faded from my face. She’d gone away with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend? Jake Kelly. Maybe he wasn’t lying after all? Maybe she had gone away. The fact he mentioned the boyfriend - it sounded convincing.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” he said, “if you’re not gone in the next five minutes, I’ll call the cops.”

He got back in his car and reversed back up the driveway. I stood there, watching, as the gates closed me out once more.

A NEW MAN

Haven’t slept.

Been up all night watching music videos of that cunt - Kelly.

I don’t understand what she sees in him.

Average looking black man with a gold tooth, shaved head.

Not even that well built.

I could take him.

No wonder he only beats upon women.

(Video Seven. Take 1)

Red light flashing, camera recording.

The camcorder is sitting on the side where my toothbrush and comb are usually kept. I’m standing a few feet away, in front of the bathroom mirror which hangs on the wall. An electric shaver in my hand. Quick introduction:

“So it appears women like Sindy only go for people like Jake Kelly. Maybe not the personality he has - for he has already proven to be lacking in that department - but definitely the looks. I’m not sure if skin colour is an issue but that’s easily fixable if it is. Just need some brown polish. Black myself up. Other than skin colour - the only noticeable difference I can see in him is that he has a skin head. Well - that is also an easy fix. All you need is an electric shaver such as this one,” I held up a shaver. Mum and dad purchased it for me a few Christmases ago. Rarely used it though. The fact they’d bought it for me suggested they wanted me to shave and that just made me want to grow a beard - or, at the very least maintain a look of stubble.

I turned the shaver on and started to clip my hair right back to a grade one; the lowest setting offered by the shaver. I did the first few trims staring into the camera with a look on my face of satisfaction and determination, and then I turned to my reflection so I could see what I was doing.

All these years of not using the machine, I have to confess it’s actually pretty good.

Especially considering it’s not the most expensive of brands. One step up from a supermarket’s own brand, I believe. Within minutes my hair was on the floor by my bare feet. I switched the machine off and turned back to the camera.

“How’s that Sindy? Am I more to your liking now? If I were to get in touch with you now, do you think you’d be less of a prick-tease towards me or would you still be a whore - giving me hope where there is none? You thanked me for the support when I first got in touch and now you do nothing but blank me but what about with this look? Would this turn your head? Would this ensure that - when I come to your home - you’d be there waiting with open arms and wet vagina? Question is - is it just the look or deep down do you enjoy it when he lays his hands upon you in an aggressive manner? Is that what you want from me too? Choke you out whilst fucking you hard despite your screams for me to stop. Is that what you like?” I stopped talking, a sudden realisation that I had perhaps taken things too far.

I reached across to the camcorder and terminated the recording.

A final look at my reflection to see the man she’d made me become.

(Video Eight)

Red light flashing, camera recording.

“I’ve heard on the grapevine that Kelly likes to dabble in drugs. I wonder - would Sindy stand by her man if he were sent to prison for possession? Not that people like him - the celebrities - tend to go to prison. They usually get a slap on the wrist and let off with a warning. Double standards. If it were a normal person - such as you - out there with drugs on your body, especially the quantity Kelly is supposedly walking around with, you’d be locked up so fast your feet wouldn’t touch the ground. Guess that’s the perks of having money though, right? The ability to be able to buy people off. Well this is a message for Jake Kelly. I hope the next hit you have, the next taste of whatever drug you favour this day…I hope it is your last. I hope they find you with foam and spittle oozing from your mouth, your pale eyes rolled to the back of your head in death’s vacant stare, the needle still hanging from the punctured vein in your arm. I hope you fucking die. People like you make me sick and you need to get what is coming to you but I doubt you will. It’s never your type that suffers, is it? It’s always the ones closest to you…Like Sindy. She suffered, didn’t she? When you punched her around. Tell me - was that a drug-fuelled outburst? If I were a gambling man, I’d put money on it being to do with drugs of some description. I’d give anything to be locked in a room with you for a few hours. Just you. None of your security, none of your entourage. Just you. I’d kick you all around the floor. By the time I’m done, they’ll be feeding you through a straw. But - then - it will never happen. You’d never be willing to accept a challenge like that. Because you’re a fucking pussy. Of course I could be wrong, although I doubt it, and if I am - well - comment below. Let’s organise this. Fuck, we could make it a pay per view event. Mr Nobody versus Cunt. Has a ring to it, don’t you think?”

(Video Nine)

Red light flashing, camera recording.

I’m dancing around a punch bag hanging in my garage, landing successful hit after successful hit - each time imagining Kelly’s face being the target. I’m giving it my all, working up a sweat. I want him to see this. I want him to know I am thinking of him with every punch. I want him to know that - if he was stupid enough to go head to head with me - I’d kill him. Maybe not with a single blow but I would definitely kill him and - more than that - I would do so with a smile on my face.

* * * * *

The rest of the night was spent putting the various clips up onto the Internet for people to see. A few more comments on my first videos - mostly being horrible to me but that is fine. These people - these narrow minded idiots - are welcome to their opinion. All I can think is, it will be interesting to see what they think of my videos once they see I am dating Sindy. Will I then be a creepy weirdo, a stalker, or even a freak as one delightful comment labelled me - or will I be their idol forcing them away from commenting on videos and - instead - making their own?

Time will tell I guess.

Not all of the comments are horrible, which is a relief.

Some of them are nice. Joining me in my love for Sindy. Like-minded fans naming their favourite songs and favourite Sindy Cole moments; one such comment talking of the time she performed in Australia.

She spotted someone with a disability at the front of the stage, slightly to the side where they wouldn’t get crushed. Bless her soul, she got her security people to fetch the little girl and get her on stage to join her. She held her hand through the whole song as the pair of them had a little dance. It was a great moment and - naturally - someone filmed it for the Internet. That little video, all two minutes and thirty-six seconds of it, went viral within a day, if that. I couldn’t believe how quickly it took off. Well, actually, I could have. Anything with Sindy tends to do well.

Even my own videos are starting to increase in the amount they have been viewed.

Clearly word is getting around.

That video though - the one with the disabled girl - that was the one and only time in my life where I had wished myself to have a disability. If that’s what it takes to get close to Sindy, to join her on stage even, well - I’m game.

I told my friend that story once, and told him what I thought about having a disability myself if it meant I could join my Sindy on stage. He didn’t understand and said I was weird but - I don’t think that’s the case. I’m simply a man with an ambition to meet his idol and if that’s what it takes - then so be it.

Besides, when I pass my driving test, it would also afford me the luxury of having a parking permit to leave my car wherever I wanted. And that little perk includes priority parking at the concert venues. Not only do I get to go on stage and have a dance with Sindy, I also get easy parking and even easier exit after the gig has finished.

And yet my friend says I am the strange one for wishing it upon myself.

He doesn’t see the bigger picture.

He lacks the necessary vision.

CHANGED

(Video Ten)

Back in the bathroom with the camcorder next to my toothbrush and me standing in front of the mirror looking at my reflection. Funny how a simple thing - like a shaved head - can change you so much. Spent most of the night staring at the new me and it got me wondering whether I wasn’t the only one who was able to change. Maybe he - Kelly - was able to change too?

I had been so blinded by my love for Sindy that I didn’t stop to consider what she actually wanted. Sure there was a part of me which felt she was back with him because she was scared not to be but maybe there was more to it than that? She is - after all - a clever woman. She has to be to get where she is today. The amount of smart choices she has had to make over the years - I’m sure she’d have it in her to make one further smart decision with regards to whether to stick with Kelly or not.

I ran my hand over my prickly head.

Feels funny.

I turned to the camera with tears in my eyes - not because of how I look but because I knew I had to let her go if I was ever going to be happy myself.

“This is an apology to Jake Kelly and Sindy Cole. I have been meddling in their relationship, sticking my nose where it wasn’t wanted nor required. I thought she was better than him. I thought she shouldn’t go back to him after…After what he did. Regardless of how I feel about him as a person, it is not my place to get involved in their private affairs, nor is it my place to suggest to Miss Cole what she should or shouldn’t do. Sindy, Jake - if you’re watching this - please accept my apology and rest assured I will not get involved again. Looking forward, I wish you nothing but the best of luck and the happiest of times. May what happened a couple of days ago be nothing but a blip in an otherwise beautiful relationship.”

I leaned forward and flicked the camera off. I paused a moment as a tear rolled down my cheek. I wish I had met her first, before he did, even though I know that’s a wasted wish. I would never have met her in my life, let alone on equal terms. The only time I’d get to meet her is if I purchased a VIP ticket to a concert - and I can’t afford those even with my student loan - or if I had a disability of some description and was lucky enough to get pulled on stage.

I picked the camera up and walked it through to the office where I set about plugging it into the computer via the USB lead. The sooner I upload this video, the better. I can put the whole thing behind me. Maybe keep a low profile for a while so it can die down. Who knows - in a year or two - once it has died down, she may feel as though she can message me via her Twitter page again. I hope I haven’t ruined that at least.

One thing to know I have killed any chance of a relationship with her, quite another to know I have made her permanently uncomfortable in communicating with me. So stupid. Why didn’t I just stick with the original plan and make the channel all about my love of her as a business woman and musician? Why did I feel the need to try and woo her over to me? Looking back - I didn’t even go about that very well; a couple of failed dates and a rant about her ex.

No wonder I am single.

The computer recognised my camcorder as soon as I plugged it in. A few button clicks later and the video was converting and uploading over to my channel. I stood up and walked from the room, retiring to my bedroom where I slumped down on the single bed. Before I had a chance to get comfortable my father walked into the room.

Andrew. A man in his fifties, nearing his sixtieth birthday. He had always been more of a businessman than a father so I wasn’t quite sure what he was doing in here now.

“I see,” he said as soon as he laid his eyes upon me. It had been the first time he’d seen me since I shaved my hair off. “Your mother told me what you’d done,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed as though it were his God given right to do so. “Everything okay, son?” Son? Son! He lost all privilege of calling me that a long time ago. When I wanted a dad, he was never there. When I needed him, he was never there. Only now - when I barely recognise him - does he feel he was the right to come in and speak to me as a father would normally speak to their child.

“I’m fine.”

“Any reason for the drastic hair cut?” he asked.

“Change.”

“Well okay. Change can be good. Not sure it really suits you but, it will always grow back.” He hesitated a moment, “So - been a while since we’ve properly spoken…”

“And that’s my fault?” I snapped.

“No, no…Just been busy,” he said. Was that his excuse? Just been busy? Perhaps he should have thought about his workload before firing his seed into my desperate mother. “How’s university going?” he asked.

A loaded question if ever I heard one. Neither of them asked about my studies. They just left me to it. Or at least they thought they left me to it. The truth of the matter is I haven’t been for a while now. Not because I do not care. I do. But I have been busy chasing after Sindy. Priorities and all that.

“It’s going well,” I lied.

He nodded, “You see - your tutor phoned…”

“So you’re checking up on me?” I snapped again.

“…He said you haven’t been there for a few days. Wanted to know whether everything was okay and when you thought you’d be going back.”

“I’ve been going. Just haven’t been signing in at registrar.”

“Oh. Okay. Any reason?”

“It’s pointless. They expect me to go and sign in and then wait around for over an hour until my first lecture. What’s the point?”

“You discussed that with them?” dad asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “can we talk tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

Dad pulled himself up from the edge of the bed and walked to the door with a nod of his head. He can rip apart any businessman he comes face to face with in order to get what he desires but - as soon as he is talking to me one on one - he becomes a completely different person; one hundred and ten percent out of his comfort zone. As I watched him walk to the door, I nearly pitied him.

Nearly.

He turned around, “Well…You know where I am if you need anything. We’ll talk tomorrow but - in case I have to pop to the office early - you need to go and see your tutor. Let him know why you’re not signing in each day. Deal?”

“Fine.”

Dad smiled, “Who’s that?” He was looking to one of the many posters of Sindy which lined my bedroom wall. I didn’t answer him. If he didn’t know who she was, he didn’t deserve to know. “Pretty girl.”

He didn’t wait for me to answer him. He stepped from the room and closed the door - leaving me to thoughts of my dad and Sindy fucking. And then - before I knew it - it wasn’t thoughts of my dad but rather images of Jake and Sindy going at it; his hands around her throat as he fucked her hard, her screaming that she fucking loved it, him flipping her over and rimming around her arsehole before lining up the head of his penis. No! No! No! Get out of my head! Just fuck off!

I jumped from my bed and started to rip the posters down in a fit of rage.

I can’t even look at her anymore without seeing him on top of her, forcing his way into orifices which aren’t designed for that.

(Video Eleven)

“You know what, I can’t fucking do it. I can’t. I tried to be nice. I tried but I can’t fucking do it. The thought of you and him together, the thought of you fucking him…It’s driving me mad. It’s not right, it’s not fucking natural. You two are from two different worlds. You’re two different classes of people. You’re beautiful, elegant with what you do and compassionate. He’s nothing more than a woman-beating, drug-taking thug. You really want children with that cunt? Or is this just a bit of fun? Someone to pass the time with because - even then - I thought you were better than him. You know, I’d rather you fucking died than continued to tarnish your name as you are now. You meant the world to me, you fucking did. You were something special. Not just to me either but millions of people around the world but - the more you associate with the likes of him and his dirty entourage…The more you damage yourself. Surely one of your own team must be telling you the same thing and if they’re not then you should seriously just fucking sack them. They’re doing you no favours. Or is that why you left with him? Because your people were telling you it was a mistake. They were getting to you, annoying you, and so you packed up and fucked off to wherever it is drug addicts take their beaten up girlfriends…”

I stopped talking and took a few deep breaths. I turned the camera off as I had nothing left to say. I felt better for getting it off my chest. At first, when I loaded the camcorder back up, I wasn’t even sure whether I was going to use this footage or not but - fuck it - why not? Load it up and put it out there for people to see. Maybe they’ll agree with my comments? The more people who back me up, the more chance there is she will listen and dump the fucking reject before any more harm comes to her, or her career. I do not understand why she is so desperate to ruin her life. She has this perfect career, she has millions of fans and yet here she is trying to throw it all away in order to be with him.

I guess they say ‘love is blind’.

Sindy is definitely blind.

The camcorder was already plugged into the computer so it didn’t take too many button clicks to upload the video to where the others were already stored. Weird, I do not feel as though I have slept properly for a few days now but - tonight - I feel as though I will sleep just fine having purged my soul with that little rant. Perhaps I should rant more often. Considering how I was feeling when dad confronted me in my room, and how I felt before then even…Now I feel pretty damn good.

Tonight is a good night.

A SHOCK

(Video Ten. Take 1)

Red light flashing, camera recording.

“My phone was buzzing through with notifications last night after I went to bed - all mentioning Sindy’s name. The frequency that they were coming through, I knew something was wrong so I logged in to see what was happening. And then I started browsing the Internet to try and see if it was true; the news Twitter was buzzing with. Facebook too. Jake Kelly found Sindy Cole dead in their hotel room - the bathroom to be specific…” I felt myself well up as my voice cracked a little.

Shit.

I leaned forward and killed the little red light.

(Video Ten. Take 2)

“She was a beautiful person, inside and out. Apparently they aren’t sure of the actual cause of death yet but they believe she suffered an overdose. Some reports are stating she drowned.” More tears. “I said something like this would happen. He is to blame. Jake Kelly. If she did have an overdose, it is because she was forced to take whatever he was pushing at the time. She wasn’t that sort of girl. She was a good girl. Drugs weren’t her scene. Of course people are coming out with all the stories of her terrible addictions now but…They’re just cashing in. Selling stories because they know the person isn’t there to defend themselves. It’s sickening. I…” I didn’t know what to say. I’m supposed to be talking about her passing, and how tragic it is but I find myself getting worked up.

I leaned forward and killed the recording for a second time.

(Video Ten)

“I’ve said some horrible things to Sindy these past couple of days and I feel a terrible, crushing guilt. Were my words what drove her to seek comfort in illegal substances? The thought of upsetting me, her number one fan, being too much for her to cope with? Was it the fact I wished death upon Kelly? Maybe karma was teaching me a lesson? If you wish ill on someone, it tends to affect the ones you love instead. Is that what happened? I said I wanted him to die of an overdose and yet he lives and she breathes no more?”

(Video Ten)

Red light flashing, camera recording.

What the Heart Wants plays on my computer. I’m sitting within the camcorder’s frame. Look like Hell. Tears streaming down my face as I listen to the hauntingly beautiful lyrics of my all time favourite song; a classic. The world seems like a darker place today.

(Video Ten)

“Just because I said some horrible things to you, and about you, Sindy - I want you to know that I never stopped loving you. You were my one true love and I feel empty knowing you’re no longer brightening this dark world up with your bubbly personality and shining soul. It gives me no comfort thinking of you at peace. It gives me no comfort knowing you’re in Heaven despite it being a supposed paradise. There is no comfort to be had from it. Not whilst I am down here without you.” I paused a moment. “I love you Sindy and I meant what I said in my second video - I meant every word of it. Do you remember what I said? Death would not do us part. I won’t let it. No one has a right to take you away from me. No one. I was deadly serious about that.”

I raised a knife into the shot.

“I took it from the kitchen. I know you’re probably looking down at me, telling me to live my life but I can’t. Without you, I have no life. I’m coming, Sindy. We can be together forever.”

(Video Eleven)

“Mum, dad…”

I have nothing to say. They will know all they need to know from watching these videos when they get home from work. Mum will find me first and I do not even feel bad about it. I’ve never had the feeling they loved me. Not properly. If they follow me, taking the same route I did, I guess they will prove themselves to me. But I’m guessing they won’t have the guts - or urge - to do it.

(Video Twelve)

What the Heart Wants plays through my computer speakers.

I shouted over the speakers, “One last time and then I’m done.”

I sat there, swaying to the music with the knife brandished in my hand so tight that my knuckles were white. I should feel scared now and yet I don’t. If anything I feel a sense of excitement. I feel a sense of purpose. Finally I am going to get to be with my Sindy. Admittedly this isn’t where I thought we would end up, at least not until after a long life but…I’ll be happy to spend my eternal paradise with the most beautiful woman in the world and - the more I think about it - the more I think she did what she did in the bathroom on purpose. A way out knowing that I would follow her because I loved her. And she loved me. All this time I had been doubting her.

“She loved me!”

The music stopped and I raised the knife to my throat.

“I’m coming, Sindy!”

I pulled the knife across my throat, slicing through the skin and arteries. Eyes wide as a jet of blood sprayed both camcorder and computer screen. I dropped the knife to my side and grabbed for my throat as the blood continued to pump from the wound. Getting sleepy already.

“I love you, Sindy. I love you.”

I slumped forward, slipping off the office chair.

(Video Twelve)

Red light flashing, camera recording.

The room is empty from what is seen beyond the blood splattered lens.

There are no sounds, only an eerie silence.

T H E    E N D

Table of Contents

- Copyright
- VIDEO ONE.
- VIDEO TWO.
- VIDEO THREE.
- CHANGE OF DIRECTION
- VIDEO FOUR
- ANXIOUS WAIT
- A ROMANTIC DATE
- SHOCKING NEWS
- VIDEO SIX
- HOME SWEET HOME
- A NEW MAN
- CHANGED
- A SHOCK