Fiona on Fire | ONC 2023

15. admirer

Fiona wished the incident with her car had been isolated—something she could forget and move on from, maybe even laugh about.

It wasn't.

She began to notice a hooded man standing on the street outside her apartment building. Security kept him from getting inside, but it was unnerving to drive past him most days when she got home, or to look down from her window and see him still standing there.

She filed a report with the police, but they said they couldn't do much. He didn't seem to be following her or making any threats. He just stood and stared. When any police cars drove by, he left.

Fiona made arrangements to relocate. She'd make another upgrade and move to a massive house in Calabasas. It was inside a gated community where numerous famous people lived, and security was supposed to be airtight.

She felt safe there. The sun seemed brighter; she could walk down the street without checking over her shoulder.

The house felt too big for her to live in alone. She couldn't maintain the place by herself, so she hired cleaners and groundskeepers. She also adopted two dogs and three cats from a shelter, something she'd always wanted to do.

Sun shone through huge windows during the day, making the place seem warm and welcoming. At night, though, it scared her to turn the lights on knowing that anyone standing outside could see everything within, while she couldn't see much outside.

After about two months of living there, her dogs began to bark at the windows. Fiona told herself it was animals they were seeing—raccoons, squirrels, skunks in her yard. No one would get past the security.

One day, though, she came home with an inexplicable sense of unease in her stomach. As she stepped inside her home, this surged into pure, gut-clenching dread. Something was off. She soon realized that her subconscious must have picked up on subtle changes in her environment—her belongings had been shifted around as if someone had been there. Her dogs acted strange, their ears high and alert, while the cats were nowhere to be seen, hiding.

Fiona phoned the police. They searched her house for anything suspicious. She followed one of them around, not wanting to be alone in her own home.

She noticed then that the clothes in her dresser, which had been neatly folded and arranged, were now disorganized. Her bathroom cabinet was left ajar. A faint palm print much larger than hers was pressed onto one window. It was all small things, but together, they sent a horrible chill down her spine.

The police asked if anyone other than her had access to her home. She thought a moment, then admitted the cleaners did. But they were from a reputable service that worked with famous people, recommended by her neighbors. They wouldn't be this unprofessional. And her pets were used to the housekeepers, while her intruder had terrified them.

For a while, her house felt dangerous. She installed cameras, motion detector lights, and a new alarm system. The fear began to dissipate.

That's when she began to receive strange letters. Since she'd begun to get lots of fan mail, her management started to screen what was sent to her. The letters didn't make it to her, but she heard about them. There was no return address. They contained grotesque romantic poetry. It became clear that someone was deeply obsessed with her.

She wished she could see Jack again, but he was out of the country.

The letters continued steadily, but nothing happened to her in person that was cause for concern. It faded from the forefront of her consciousness.

She filmed the final Unreached movie and they had a wrap party. The actors all shed their roles, and the crew let loose. There were drinks all around, so she had some in moderation. This time, she only drank from sealed cans and didn't let them out of her sight.

Somebody played loud music, taking requests. The air seemed to buzz with drunken excitement and sadness that it was all over.

Fiona looked for Alex, scanning the crowd. In one corner, looming behind the partiers, she swore she saw a man in a black hood.

She lurched backward, directly into a body that steadied her, gripping her upper arms.

"You alright, Fi?" It was Alex.

"Do you know how tight security is here?" she asked. "Are they checking everyone's IDs? They need to make sure only people who worked on the film—"

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I have a stalker. I thought I saw him here." Fiona shook her head. "It was probably just my imagination." She searched the crowd again, not spotting him anywhere.

"We can get out of here if you want," he offered, gazing down at her with warm eyes.

She laughed faintly. "We're the stars of the show, though. We can't leave."

"We can do whatever we want."

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded at a door. They left through a side exit that dumped them into the hot night air.

They wound up walking the Hollywood strip. Fiona was caught up in reading the names below their feet on the Walk of Fame.

Alex cleared his throat. "It's been years now."

"Since what?"

"Since we went out. You said maybe we could try again someday."

"Oh," she said, surprised. She didn't know what to say.

"I mean, no pressure. It's just that we're already out again. Together."

"True."

They walked in silence. Alex's hands were shoved into his pockets, and he moved stiffly.

"I'm sorry. Your stalker situation is obviously more important. It was dumb to bring that up."

"It's okay." Fiona bit her lip. It didn't feel like she knew Alex very well at that moment. She'd filmed three long movies with him, but they'd been in character for the majority of their time together.

People started noticing them, openly taking pictures and videos with their phones. Alex grabbed Fiona's hand, and they ran through the streets and alleyways to escape. The whole time, she smiled wildly and her heart raced with exhilaration.

They skidded to a stop, realizing they were alone on a side street. Alex's hand lingered over hers, then fell to his side.

On an impulse, she rose on her tip-toes and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It was a goodbye, and she could tell he knew by the sadness in his eyes when she drew away.