Obsessed Fan.

The worst sleep of my life, was last night. However, when I awoke to the fresh smell of pancakes that made my lack of sleep worth it. Not that I wasn't used to my private chef, however I could hear the ridiculous amounts of butter sizzling as she cooked. Where as my chef is more precise.

"Oh my gosh!" A girl my age squealed, her hands clapsing to her face. "Star!"

"Hi," I weakly smile, taking a seat. I chewed on the inside of my lip as I zipped my black sweater up more. I felt like trash with my hair unwashed, and the lack of brushing as well.

"I must tell my best friend!" she adds, but immediately her father grabs her phone.

"No, no one must know, Kimberly!" he scolds, giving me a knowing look before returning his attention to the news paper. I exhaled sharply as she turned on the Television with an annoyed expression.

"Sydney Raee, formally known as Star, as come up missing! That is right! Eye witnesses reported seeing her jump out of her limo and take off running, the cashier at a local clothing store, reports that she came in to buy a couple of articles of clothing before disappearing as well. Then another person said, that they saw a female wearing a black hoodie get into a vehicle before riding off in the rain, was she kidnapped? No one has reported anymore sightings of her, and she hasn't gone in contact with her parents or any representatives. If anyone knows anything, please contact local authorities. Blah," the lady finished with bullshit.

"Well," I stood. "I don't want you to get in trouble."

"How old are you?" Jakoby's boss questions.

"Eighteen," I answer as if he's dumb.

"Then how can I get into trouble?" he replies, quirking a brow at me.
"You are an adult and not even realize it. Shame."

"But," I blubber. "What if they twist this all around and try to press charges?"

"You are an adult, and not even realize it. Shame," he measly repeats, taking a sip of his coffee. His wife smiles with a shake of her head as she finishes making breakfast. I chewed the inside of my lips again, and accepted the Orange Juice they offered me. I took a few sips and exhaled.

"Has anyone heard from, Jakoby?" I randomly ask.

"Unfortunately, not," he mutters. "I don't even know where his father lives."

I am going to take your advice. I remember reading that.

"Do you have a computer?" I question, a little overly enthused.

"Yes, why?" he retorts.

"I used to chat with Jakoby online, I'm not proud of it. But, he didn't know it was me and still doesn't," I quickly explain. His boss' eyes went wide as he scooted back in his chair.

"Well damn," he curses before standing.
"Let me fire it up for you."

"You mean turn it on?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

"Our computer is like stone age, old," Kimberly, his daughter, jokes.

"Huh?" I was confused, and felt dumb for not knowing this.

"Meaning it's not just turning it on, it's waiting for the damn thing to load," she laughs. I exhaled sharply, still confused. Until however it took the damn thing about thirty minutes to even let me log into my messanger account. I scrolled up through our long conversations and read that one conversation we had many months ago. I wrote down the location and bit my bottom lip.

"I am going there," I say, feeling a jolt of emotions rush through my body.

"By yourself?" his boss questions, shaking his head.

"I have to," I state, gulping.

"You'll be seen, easily," he laughs.

"I have a wig, and some facial stuff," Kimberly points out.

"What do you mean facial stuff?" I retort, bad idea. The girl came out with rubber fake facial parts, like noses and ears.

"I am aspiring to be a make up artist," she explains as I sat there, allowing her to doll me up.

"That includes fake noses?" I laugh.

"I enjoy the art of disguise," she nonchalantly adds. I couldn't argue with that, because without her I would be in deep shit. "Also here's another fake ID of mine, and I got you a wig that matches mine. As long as they don't pay attention to the fact you have green eyes, and not brown, we're good."

"Thank you," I thanked and smiled at the family.
"I owe you big time!"

"None sense," his wife declined. I saw him send her a look, but then eased up. The poor man wanted better for his family, and I could tell it blinded him from doing things out of the goodness of his heart. However, right now he was doing me a favor. I jumped in the passanger seat, after changing into his daughter's clothes and we were off. The journey was going to be long.

"Please pull over," a cop demanded. I gulped as he came out and flashed his flash light at us.

"ID's please," the cop's partner demands. I show mine, and they look me over suspiciously.

"My daughter and I are taking a bonding trip together, before she leaves for college, is there a problem?" The bullshit flowed out of his mouth as he stared the cops down.

"Sorry, we're just looking for someone," the cops apologized and let us through. I swear it's like I wasn't breathing the whole time we were stopped. My lungs ached as I exhaled sharply, feeling myself almost pass out.

"Do you realize that we could have gone to jail?" I ask, and he laughs.

"Not really," he replies.

"Yes really, I am using a fake ID, that's illegal," I remind and he stiffens.

"Then let's not get caught," he dryly replies, the fear shining through his eyes. Dear lord, this would be interesting. The ride was horrible, and finally we were in a smaller town. People were walking pretty much every where they were going. A lot of younger teenagers being assholes and pushing each other. The elders outside smoking cigarettes, and stared at us as we drove. The streets were older, and the shops were clearly old.

"Wow," I breath out. It was rather "ghetto" and that's saying a lot, considering we just came here from Hollywood of all places.

"Do you think we'll find him?" Jakoby's boss questions, looking around.

"I am not even sure," I breath out. "It seems small enough."

"Like everyone knows everyone," he adds, I nod.

"Hello?" I call out, and the person stops.

"Yes?" she was an older woman, her voice cracking a little with age.

"Have you seen a Jakoby?" I question, furrowing my brows.

"No," she immediately declines and hurries off. I let out another sigh, whatever. We asked I don't even know how many people before one person with a beautiful older car, told us that he works at the mechanic shop. Thank God we had some answers.