I've had this in my notepad since End's Succubus Contest and decided today would be a good day to finally cross it off. Tbh, I really didn't put in my normal amount of effort or time into proofreading because I'm lazy. Like usual with my short stories, I kept it under 1200 words (came out to 1155). Comments and Critique are welcome!
Fame isn’t what its made out to be. There is a certain give and take to it – sometimes people take more than you get in return. They’ll say we’re lucky. They say we should be grateful for everything we have – if only they knew the truth. You see, some songs are more than just a catchy melody or filler for an album.
Back when the band was first starting out, we were young and struggling artists, living on the high of chasing our dreams. In reality, we were broke – talented, but broke nonetheless. We went to venue after venue, taking on as many gigs as possible just to make ends meet in our shitty apartment in the city. At least, that’s what we were doing until she came around.
I first met Diana after a small gig we played a couple of blocks over. She seemed like a normal groupie – wanted to party after the show, take pictures, get autographs, etc. I mean it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary at first. I remember her saying she was all mine that night and I could do whatever I please. The thing that really freaked me out was when she said to me after our night together – “I’ve trapped you in my heart”. I started noticing her more often – even to places that seemed pretty far away from when we first met. She became a stalker really quick.
Time goes on and Diana never left. It would be common to see her sitting backstage after our set or hanging around the exit door out back. She’d throw herself at us, talking about how she’ll give us anything if we help her be a star. Like I was saying, we aren’t this huge popular band – we’re still pretty local. It was like she saw something in us. It was actually more like faith in what we were doing. None of us have ever had to deal with some psycho fan like this before. We were all pretty much begging her to leave us alone. She became tiresome, annoying, and no matter how much we yelled, called cops, or anything – she would be there at the next show.
Now this is where things started to get a bit weird. Her obsession drove her to breaking into our apartment one night. So there I am alone in our apartment – everyone else had plans with girlfriends, family, whatever. I’m stepping out of the shower and I hear some rumbling going on outside the door. I’m thinking someone is breaking in and after a minute or 2 of psyching myself up, I open the door and charge out to see what’s going on. I didn’t know what else to do. I was stuck in a bathroom with nothing to defend myself with so maybe the robbers would get startled and run. To my surprise, I see Diana sitting down on the couch. She’s got her beautiful jet black hair down, red lipstick on - the whole 9 yards. She’s obviously here for some fun, but I’m too in shock at this point to be ready for any of that. Suddenly, I can’t move. Not like a freeze up because of shock or anything – I literally couldn’t move. Diana’s eyes flash to green and she gets up from the couch and walks over to me. Her cold, almost frozen to the touch hand caresses my cheek and she pulls me in for a kiss. I feel like my breath was taken by that kiss and not in a good way. Her voice speaks to me, silky and seductive, “make me a star”.
I wake up the next day in my bed, alone. It seems like no one came home yet. I searched around the house and Diana was gone. All of a sudden, my mind cuts to those words she spoke to me last night. I can’t place my finger on it, but it was like I was inspired to write a song. I grabbed my pen and paper and began to write. I wrote about Diana. I wrote about everything that happened. I wrote about her behavior and how much I just wanted to be left alone. My emotions – the good and the bad – flowed out of me into this song.
I never told the band about that night. Didn’t leak one peep about it. I just told them that maybe this she’ll move on if we sing about how crazy she is. I was so naïve. I got them to practice the song and we kept practicing until we got it perfect. The flow, the melody, everything was perfect. It’s just how she wanted it. The next gig we had, we would play it. Surprising, Diana wasn’t there when we got up on stage. The last song we played was the one I wrote for her. As I’m singing it up on stage, I see those green eyes in the back staring into my soul. My body started sweating and I thought I would pass out, but the song wouldn’t stop flowing out of my mouth. No matter how much I protested or tried to stop – I wasn’t in control anymore.
The rest was pretty fuzzy. I don’t think I remembered much after that performance for a few days. Somehow a producer heard our song and wanted us to go meet him. He said he loved everything about it and that we got that “it” factor. The band was just happy that all our hard work finally paid off, but I knew deep down that something was off. It just didn’t feel right. Diana, that night, the memory loss – now we have some big time producer wanting us to go make a record him with? All because of this song about some groupie who took things a bit too far? Could it just be a coincidence? No, not one bit.
Years later, I still see her. Not at shows, no, but in the corners of my eyes sometimes. Sometimes, I’ll catch a glimpse of her – still as beautiful as always, as if she never aged a day. She visits my dreams too – twisted horrible nightmares come to me every night. I barely sleep because every time I dream, I just see Diana’s face on some sort of monstrous body slowly getting closer to me. I know I’m not the only one because I hear covers of our song all over now. These people almost being overnight successes because of it. I just…I can’t take it anymore. Sure the fortune and fame is nice, but at what cost? I’m restless. I take drugs to keep myself awake. This rockstar lifestyle isn’t what it’s meant to be.
She took something from me that night in the apartment. I don’t even know what, but she HAS to be the reason for our sudden fame. She’s a demon. A devil. Some sort of succubus.
