Story: Angie's Vacation From Stardom (Part 1)

ANGIE'S VACATION FROM STARDOM
Part 1

By Tcheser

Angie was what the press called a celebrity. It wasn't exactly the same as being called a talented, award winning performer, her dream once upon a time, but the money was nearly as good and with that she was able to live a lifestyle most people could only dream of attaining. She had homes in half a dozen cities, a yacht, beautiful designer clothes, entrance to any club or events she wanted to attend and a line of men around the block. All this and she was still just 24 years old.

Unfortunately being a celebrity was also very draining. Everywhere she went she was recognized and swarmed by fans. They wanted to say hello, bask in her radiance, get a glimpse of the person they had seen on TV and in all the magazines. They got annoying quickly, but she could deal with them. Then there were the crazies, the obsessive fans, weirdos, perverts and stalkers. They wanted to creep her out at the least and at the worst they wanted to do unspeakable things to her. Because of them she couldn't go out by herself and was forced by her agent and insurance company to hire a private security detail to escort her wherever she went. She couldn’t even go across the street for crying out loud. More often than not she felt like a prisoner in her lavish penthouse. A singing bird in a gilded cage.

One day she had finally had enough. She decided that for the sake of her own sanity, that she was going to take a break from it all.


“I’m going to take a long bath, don’t disturb me,” she told her bodyguards.

“Yes, Miss,” replied the black suited robots.

That done Angie then went into her bathroom, started filling the big Jacuzzi tub, and after counting to ten, slipped out the window, tip toed across the balcony, entered the kitchen and went out the service entrance. As far as her bodyguards were concerned she was still in her bathroom and would be there for quite some time. She wouldn’t be missed for hours.

Meanwhile down in the bowls of the building Angie slipped into a seldom used utility room. Here she found a sink and mirror and paused to make a few alterations to her appearance. She knew she wouldn’t get far looking like herself. As soon as she stepped out of the building someone would recognize her and then before long there would be a crowd pressing against her and she would have no choice to call for her bodyguards.

So she cut and dyed her long trademark blonde hair into a sassy dark brown pixie cut, and removed all her fakery. She washed off all her makeup, removed her fake eyelashes and her long nail extensions. Then thinking ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’ , she sighed and took off her heavily padded bra and the rubber like falsies she had on under it as well as the equally transformative body shaper she wore to give herself a more hourglass like figure. Then looking very little like herself, much less busty and much slimmer, she slipped out the back entrance and made her escape. The only clue as to where she had gone, a note left on her dresser stating simply that she was taking her vacation and that she would be back in a month.

Free for once, Angie then set out to enjoy herself. Uncertain if she could blend in within the city even disguised she caught a train and headed to the outer boroughs. Tired from making her escape and wanting to be fresh so she could have some fun when she arrived, Angie lay herself down in her compartment and took a nap. When she arrived she was groggy and barely made it off the train before it left the station again.

Hungry she went to a bistro that looked nice to have dinner. It wasn’t packed, but most of the tables were full and sitting alone in full view of all these people Angie was certain that someone was going to notice her. Nearly the entire course of the meal she was on edge, mentally preparing herself for the moment when one of the other diners finally realized who she was, pointed her out to their dining companions and all hell broke loose. To her surprise however she found herself completely ignored. No one seemed to even notice her let alone recognize her. Delighted she went ahead and ordered dessert, something she almost never did and her personal trainer/dietitian would have not approved of one bit, but which Angie figured she could get away with because she was on vacation and her stupid trainer wasn’t here.

It was only when she went to settle up the bill that she found she was missing her wallet. Startled she looked through her little purse three times but it wasn't there. While she slept on the train someone must have gone into her purse and stolen her wallet she realized. She felt both outrage and violation and wished for a moment that her bodyguards had been there to beat the thief to a pulp.

Then her rage suddenly subsided and it occurred to her that she couldn't pay for the lovely meal she had just had. All the money she had was in her wallet which was now gone. Her credit cards were in her desk back at her penthouse along with her phone and jewelry. She believed the first two could be used to track her and so had left them behind. The jewelry she had left because it was real and the last thing she had wanted was to be mugged for it. She also didn't have any ID now she realized. It had been in her wallet. She couldn't even identify herself if they called the police on her. She would be forced to call her agent and though she was certain he could get her out of any minor trouble as this, there was the possibility of scandal, and it would mean the end of her little vacation.

Panicking somewhat Angie did the only thing she thought she could do. She slipped off her heels, got up, and ran out of the bistro as fast as she could. Furious the waiters gave chase. Fortunately Angie had too much of a start and they gave up after a few blocks. Thankful for small miracles she ducked into an alley to catch her breath.

By the time she felt it was safe to go out again the sun had set. Things certainly weren't turning out the way she had planned and she decided she was going to have to give up and return to the gilded cage that was her home. Unfortunately she didn't quite know how she would manage that. She found herself without any money, any ID, means of communication or even shoes. She tried making a collect call to her penthouse, but she couldn't remember the number, and of course it was unlisted. Living in a digital age she knew no one’s phone number. She thought about calling a friend for help, but then they would see her like this, or worse call the press. She didn't think she had any friends she could trust well enough not to cash in on the opportunity. The police were out for similar reasons. She would just have to get home on her own she concluded. On the bright side she was at least free from all the burdens of stardom that had driven her to do this in the first place. Perhaps this would would even be fun. Only time would tell.