Ficorpio
Chapter 1
At two in the morning, I stood outside a hotel room and started a livestream.
In front of hundreds of thousands of Julian Cross’s fans, I announced that tonight, I was going to sleep with their idol.
The chat exploded.
I was a notorious stalker fan with a rap sheet of eighteen so-called offenses. Within seconds, the comments tore me apart.
All I could do was smile into the camera and push open the door.
“Officer, no one forced me to do this,” I said lightly. “So please don’t arrest me.”
I knew Julian’s fans would swarm me soon. Maybe they would corner me. Maybe they would beat me half to death.
But I couldn’t afford to care.
Because in my last life, after I survived the car crash, I was dragged into a nightmare worse than death.
A murder had taken place around midnight in the hotel room where I had been staying. The room was soaked in blood. Dismembered remains were scattered everywhere.
I was sent to prison.
Every piece of evidence pointed to me. My family was destroyed by the storm of public outrage that followed. My father’s company lost its value overnight. My mother was trapped by the mob outside our home until she collapsed and ended up in the ICU ward.
Then I opened my eyes again.
I had come back to the day before the crash.
This time, I needed the whole world to witness my alibi.
I stood below The Grand Meridian Hotel, smartphone in hand, livestream running.
“In a little while,” I told the camera, “Julian Cross is going to walk into this hotel. And tonight, I’m going to sleep with him.”
The title of the livestream was outrageous enough to get flagged and shared across every platform in minutes.
Viewers flooded in. Most of them were Julian Cross’s fans.
“Stalker fan, are you delusional? Go to bed.”
“Are ugly girls always this confident? Turn the camera around. Let us see how hideous you are.”
I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, with my hair tucked under a baseball cap, standing by the curb like I had crawled out of bed and lost a fight with common sense. When I turned the camera toward myself, the wide, unflattering angle did me no favors.
Fine. I did look rough.
Too bad I didn’t have time to care.
A certain superstar’s car had already pulled up in front of the hotel.
I zoomed in on the license plate, then caught a clear shot of Julian stepping out. I uploaded the clip to my account immediately.
The comments detonated.
“It’s really Julian! Protect him!”
“Where are the local girls? Get over there and stop this freak!”
“Someone’s trying to hurt our idol. This is practically a crime scene!”
Chapter 2
I watched the frenzy spread across the screen.
Good.
This was exactly the effect I wanted.
I ran straight toward the Grand Meridian, one of the most luxurious hotels in the city.
The moment I burst into the lobby, Mia Parker at the front desk looked me up and down. The cap, the shorts, the phone in my hand, the manic glow of the livestream on my screen—none of it inspired confidence.
I leaned over the counter and lowered my voice, though I made sure the camera caught every word.
“Get me a room,” I said. “As close to Julian Cross as possible. I have to get into his bed tonight.”
Mia’s expression stiffened. Her hand hovered near the desk phone, as if she was one breath away from calling hotel security.
“Miss,” she said carefully, “this is one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. Even if you don’t have a reservation, there are still procedures we have to follow.”
Mia Parker glanced at the viewer count on my smartphone, and the color drained from her face.
In the end, she still opened the elevator for me.
Julian Cross checking into The Grand Meridian Hotel had already caused enough chaos downstairs. Maybe the hotel staff were afraid of making a bigger scene in front of a livestream. Maybe they simply didn’t want millions of people watching them drag a young woman out of the lobby.
Either way, I got upstairs.
My family kept a standing room at this hotel.
I swiped the key card, pushed the door open, and slipped inside alone.
The whole thing happened so smoothly that even the livestream chat went quiet for a few seconds.
Then the comments exploded.
“Wait, did she really just get in?”
“Girl, you’re insane. I kind of love it.”
“Isn’t this literally stalker fan behavior?”
“She’s going to get arrested, right?”
“Would the hotel actually call the police with this many people watching?”
“Probably not. This stream is way too big now.”
I frowned, weighing every possible consequence.
Police involvement wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
If things truly got out of hand, at least they would become witnesses too.
Right now, the only thing that could help me was this room.
I had to stay here for the entire night.
Tonight, someone would use my car.
Tonight, a woman would die.
And in my last life, every piece of evidence had pointed to me.
I looked at the livestream and forced myself to keep smiling. “Relax. I’m just borrowing a room for one night. If Julian Cross and I spend the night under the same roof, do you think his fans will tear me apart tomorrow?”
The chat immediately cursed me out.
“Dream on.”
“You wish.”
“Get out of his hotel!”
“Don’t touch Julian!”
I barely saw the words.
The moment I thought about midnight, goose bumps rose along my arms.
That room from my last life had been soaked in red.
Chapter 3
The floor had been covered in severed limbs and ruined flesh, so much blood that the original color of the carpet could no longer be seen.
And all the evidence had proved one thing.
The car had been mine.
The driver had been me.
My parents had stood at the crash scene, pale and frantic, trying desperately to explain to everyone that I couldn’t have done it.
But Adrian Vale had looked at me and asked, “If it wasn’t you, how do you prove your car didn’t hit her?”
He had been right.
I hadn’t had proof.
The police traced my room faster than I expected and started pounding on the door.
“Open up! Do you understand what you’re doing? This is obstruction, and it’s illegal. Open the door right now!”
Outside, the shouting grew louder by the second.
“If you don’t open this door, we’re breaking it down!”
I pressed my back against the door and raised my voice. “If you break in, the only thing you’ll find is my body.”
The hallway went quiet for half a beat.
Then someone kept trying to talk me down.
A hotel employee joined in from outside, voice trembling with forced patience. “Miss, we understand you’re a fan and you got carried away, but this kind of behavior is dangerous. Please open the door first. We can talk.”
The commotion was too big to hide. Guests on the same floor couldn’t resist coming out to watch.
In a single night, the whole internet had labeled me a deranged stalker fan. Messages about me had spread through Julian Cross’s fandom like wildfire.
More and more people gathered outside my door.
The police were getting anxious.
I shouted through the door, “I’m not going out. If you’re so capable, then wait me out.”
I wasn’t stupid.
The second I opened that door, even the people outside would be able to drag me away.
So I decided to block their way with my life.
Two hours later, the hotel manager called my father over.
Daniel Brooks probably did it out of respect for my dad. Richard Bennett was still powerful enough that most businesses in the city tried not to offend him, and the Bennett family had always taken care of the Grand Meridian’s business.
Unfortunately, my father had a volcanic temper.
The moment he arrived, he kicked the door.
“Ava Bennett! Get out here right now! You’ve completely lost your mind!”
The sound of his voice made my chest tighten.
Even through the door, I could hear the anger and disappointment in it.
“You like some celebrity, fine. You spend money, you chase him around, I don’t care. But what the hell are you doing now? Get out here and come home with me. Stop making a public spectacle of yourself!”
My father’s words hit like a knife, and tears sprang to my eyes.