Silence the Superstar

I spent ten years building Vincent's career.

From his debut to his sudden rise to fame, all the way to his award-winning moments, I was the one standing behind him, blocking every hit.

Then, his first love drove drunk and killed someone.

Vincent told me to take the fall.

He said, Sienna's career is just taking off. You've already retired from the industry.

I went to prison for seven years.

The day I was released, they publicly announced their marriage.

When a reporter asked him about me, he simply replied, "There's no need to bring up people from the past."

The day I jumped off a building, they were live-streaming their wedding.

When I opened my eyes again, it was the night of the accident.

Vincent was shoving his car keys into my hand.

"Just tell them you were the one driving."

I tapped the screen on my phone and went live.

"Did everyone hear that?"

01

The fluorescent lights in the underground parking garage flickered unsteadily.

A white Bentley was smashed against a concrete pillar, its front end crumpled entirely inward.

There was blood on the ground.

A lot of it.

It was pooling out from underneath the car, crawling across the gray concrete until it reached the tip of my shoe.

Sienna was hiding behind Vincent.

Her hair was a mess. The hem of her white dress was stained with dirt, and a glaring red friction burn covered her right wrist.

It was a burn from the airbag deploying.

In my previous life, I only found that out much later.

By then, it was too late.

The police file read: Driver Diana, driving under the influence, struck and killed designated driver Frank Chen.

I pled guilty.

Vincent hired the absolute best defense attorney for me.

The best attorney told me that a cooperative attitude and a massive payout would reduce my sentence.

Sitting in the detention center, I had asked him, "What about the victim's family?"

The attorney didn't even look up from his files.

"Mr. Cross will handle it."

Mr. Cross handled it beautifully.

The victim's mother took the money.

The victim's teenage sister was shipped off to study abroad.

I sat in a cell for seven years.

The day I walked out, no one came to pick me up.

The massive LED screen at the airport was broadcasting Vincent and Sienna's official couple interview.

Sienna was leaning against his shoulder, smiling so sweetly.

A reporter asked, "Vincent, someone online recently mentioned Diana. They said she sacrificed a lot for you back in the day."

Vincent squeezed Sienna's hand.

"There's no need to bring up people from the past."

He said it so flatly.

As if my seven years in hell were nothing more than an outdated movie poster.

The garage light flickered again.

Vincent shoved his car keys into my palm.

The metal was freezing.

His voice was lowered to a frantic whisper.

"Diana, listen to me."

"The accident already happened. The most important thing right now is damage control. We have to minimize the fallout."

I stared at him.

He was wearing a black tailored suit. A drop of blood stained his cuff.

It wasn't his blood.

It was Sienna's.

Or maybe the dead man's.

He didn't look at the body on the ground.

He only looked at me.

"Just tell them you were the one driving."

I asked, "Why?"

Vincent froze.

As if the question itself was completely absurd.

In my previous life, I hadn't asked.

Whatever he said, I just blindly accepted.

He had said, Diana, do me this one favor.

So I did.

He had said, You've been out of the spotlight for years. The public won't even remember you.

So I nodded.

He had said, Sienna can't take this hit. She's just starting out.

So I lowered my head and signed a false confession.

But this time, I asked.

Vincent's brow pulled into a deep knot.

"Sienna cannot be ruined."

Sienna sobbed, grabbing his sleeve tightly.

"Vincent, I swear I didn't mean to."

"I thought it was completely empty over there."

"I was just so scared."

Vincent turned to her, his voice immediately softening.

"It's going to be okay."

Then he turned back to me.

"Diana, you've been retired for years. The internet doesn't even remember your name."

"Take the blame. I'll get you the best legal team."

"I'll pay all the civil damages."

"I won't let you suffer too much."

I looked down at the keys in my hand.

My phone's live-stream interface was already running.

The phone was hidden in my palm, the camera lens just barely peeking out from the cuff of my sleeve.

The viewer count was still low.

Thirty-seven.

Forty-two.

Sixty-eight.

Vincent kept talking.

"Sienna's career is just taking off."

"She just signed on for a massive new movie, and she has streaming deals and endorsements lined up."

"You're different."

"You're already retired."

The viewer count spiked to three hundred.

Comments started rolling in.

[Diana? Wait, is this THE Diana?]

[Why is she going live? What is this?]

[Where is she? A parking garage?]

I raised the phone slightly.

The lens pointed straight at Vincent.

"Say that again."

Vincent's face changed slightly.

"What?"

I said, "What exactly do you want me to tell them?"

His eyes darted down to my phone.

His pupils violently contracted.

"Diana!"

The live chat exploded.

[Holy shit, is that Vincent Cross?]

[What did he just say?! He's asking Diana to take the fall for a crash?!]

[Is Sienna there too?!]

[Is that blood on the ground?!]

Vincent lunged forward to grab my phone.

I stepped back, the heel of my shoe dragging through the blood on the floor.

"Don't move."

I pivoted the camera toward the wrecked Bentley.

The driver's side door was wide open.

The deployed airbag had distinct streaks of blood on it.

The passenger seat was completely clean.

I tilted the camera down, panning over the shattered glass of liquor bottles on the ground.

Then I panned to Vincent's assistant, who was clutching a black hard drive.

The assistant went pale, instinctively trying to hide the drive behind his back.

I asked, "What's that in your hand?"

He didn't answer.

The viewer count hit twenty thousand.

Vincent lunged at me again.

"Turn that off!"

I dodged his hand.

"Vincent, there is a man dying on the floor."

His face was terrifyingly grim.

"I already called an ambulance."

"Did you call the police?"

He stayed silent.

I looked at Sienna.

"Did you call the police?"

Sienna shook her head, sobbing hysterically.

"Diana, I didn't mean to!"

"I really didn't mean to do it!"

I said, "I asked if you called the cops."

She cowered behind Vincent.

"I was too scared."

The chat was moving too fast to read.

[They didn't call the cops?!]

[You hit someone and your first move is PR damage control?!]

[Is that the security footage hard drive in the assistant's hand?!]

[Someone call 911! Call the cops right now!]

I pulled out my second phone, dialed 911, and put it on speaker.

"There's been a drunk driving accident with a casualty in the underground garage of the Star Bay Villas."

Vincent's face turned ash gray.

"Diana, think very carefully about what you're doing."

The dispatcher's voice came through. "Are there any injuries at the scene?"

I said, "Yes. A man is lying in front of the car. He's bleeding heavily."

Sienna let out a piercing scream. "Don't say drunk driving!"

I turned the camera directly onto her face.

"You drank, didn't you?"

She slapped her hands over her mouth.

Vincent grabbed my wrist, his grip like a vice.

"Diana, that is enough."

I stared right back at him.

"It's not."

His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Don't push me."

I raised the phone higher.

"Did everyone hear that?"

02

The live stream cut off the exact second Vincent ripped the phone from my hand.

Right before the screen went black, the final frame caught the assistant bolting toward the fire exit stairs, clutching the security hard drive to his chest.

My phone slammed onto the concrete, the screen spiderwebbing with cracks.

Vincent shoved me hard against the side of a parked car.

His fingers dug into my wrist so hard I thought the bone would snap.

"Are you insane?"

I looked at him calmly.

"I called the cops."

His chest was heaving.

"Do you have any idea what you just broadcasted to the entire internet?"

"Yes."

"You're going to destroy Sienna!"

I said, "The man on the ground is already destroyed."

He froze.

Sienna's sobs grew louder, more frantic.

"Vincent, I swear I didn't mean to!"

"You said you were going to fix this!"

"You promised me you wouldn't let anything happen to me!"

Vincent closed his eyes tightly.

He let go of my wrist, turning to his manager. "Call the PR department. Draft a statement right now."

The manager looked sick.

"It's already the number one trending topic."

"Screen recordings of the live stream are everywhere."

"Diana's old fan accounts and every major gossip blogger have already reposted it."

Vincent turned back to me.

"Are you happy now?"

I rubbed my bruised wrist.

"Not yet."

The wail of sirens echoed from the distance.

Sienna's legs gave out, and she nearly collapsed.

Vincent caught her by the waist.

"Don't panic."

I watched him.

"Are you holding her up, or are you trying to hold up the crime scene?"

He ground his teeth. "Diana."

I said, "You'd better remember every single word you said tonight."

He stared at me, his eyes dark.

"What exactly do you want?"

"I want to see both of you sitting in an interrogation room."

The police cruisers and the ambulance arrived almost simultaneously.

Paramedics rushed toward the man on the ground.

Police officers immediately set up crime scene tape.

A young officer walked over. "Who made the 911 call?"

I raised my hand.

"I did."

He asked, "Who was driving the vehicle?"

Sienna trembled violently, crying uncontrollably.

Vincent spoke up smoothly. "Officer, we haven't determined that yet."

I shot him a sideways glance.

"You seemed pretty certain five minutes ago."

The officer frowned. "What do you mean?"

I said, "He was trying to force me to take the blame."

Vincent's voice was sharp. "Diana, watch your words."

I handed my cracked phone to the officer.

"The screen recordings are all over the internet. The raw file is saved on this phone."

"He literally shoved his car keys into my hand a few minutes ago."

The officer took the phone.

Vincent's manager immediately stepped in, his hands raised defensively.

"Officer, there seems to be a huge misunderstanding here. Our legal team is on the way."

The officer looked at him coldly.

"There's a man dying on the floor. You're all coming to the station for questioning."

Sienna suddenly wailed.

"I didn't mean to!"

Everyone turned to look at her.

Vincent's face drained of color.

"Sienna."

She sobbed, her words spilling out in a panicked rush. "I only had a little bit to drink!"

"I really thought I was fine to drive!"

"He just came out of nowhere!"

The officer immediately asked, "Are you admitting you were the driver?"

Sienna's crying choked off instantly.

Vincent interjected, his voice low and firm. "She is in a state of extreme emotional shock. Nothing she says right now can be taken as a reliable statement."

I said, "The live stream caught everything."

Vincent snapped his head toward me.

I pulled out my backup phone.

"I switched devices."

His eyes darkened instantly.

"You came very prepared tonight, Diana."

I stared at him with absolute zero emotion.

"I died once. I learned my lesson."

He frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

I didn't answer.

The police escorted all of us out.

Right before I got into the cruiser, Vincent stood next to me.

The cold night air hit us. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Diana, it's not too late to turn this around."

I looked at him.

"Turn what around?"

"You can say the live stream was just an emotional breakdown."

"I'll have my PR team coordinate a joint statement with you."

"We'll just say you've been dealing with severe mental health issues."

I let out a soft laugh.

His face turned instantly cold.

"What's so funny?"

"It sounds familiar."

In my previous life, this was exactly what he did.

First, he convinced me to plead guilty.

Then, he released a statement claiming I had suffered a mental breakdown.

He had held my hands and said, Diana, just wait for the storm to pass. I'll get you out.

Then I sat in a cell for seven years.

He never came.

Before stepping into the police car, I looked back at him.

"Vincent."

He looked at me.

I said, "There's no need to bring up people from the past."

His face completely fell.

03

By that night, the internet was completely broken.

#DianaLiveStreamsCrash#

#VincentCrossForcesDianaToTakeTheFall#

#SiennaDUI#

#StarBayVillasGarage#

#SecurityHardDrive#

I sat in the precinct giving my statement.

The detective asked, "Why did you turn on your live stream before walking up to them?"

I said, "I managed Vincent's PR crises for years."

"I knew exactly what their first move would be."

The detective looked up from his notepad.

"Their first move?"

I said, "His crisis management playbook."

"Hide the liquor bottles, wipe the security footage, call the spin doctors, and find a scapegoat."

The stenographer's fingers paused for a fraction of a second over the keyboard.

"How do you know the exact protocol in such detail?"

I stared at the metal table.

"Because I used to be the one executing it."

Outside the interrogation room, Frank arrived.

He was wearing a black trench coat, carrying a thick laptop bag.

He looked at me through the glass window.

I gave him a single nod.

Frank used to be my agent.

The year I quit acting, we had a massive, explosive argument.

Diana, you are an actress, not Vincent's glorified babysitter! he had yelled.

I had replied, His career is just taking off. He needs me right now.

Frank had slammed the door and walked out of my life.

In my previous life, after I went to prison, he tried to appeal my case.

But I had already confessed, and the evidence had been scrubbed clean.

When he finally came to visit me, sitting behind the thick plexiglass, his eyes were bloodshot.

Who the hell are you taking the fall for, Diana?

Back then, I just lowered my head.

Don't ask.

This time, he got here fast.

When the questioning ended, a police officer escorted me out into the hallway.

Frank immediately tossed his jacket over my shoulders.

"Where's your phone?"

"The police confiscated the primary device."

"What about the live stream backend?"

"The account is still active."

"Give me your backup phone."

I handed it over.

He opened his laptop, typing rapidly.

"I screen-recorded the raw stream."

"The gossip accounts ripped it too."

"I cut three separate clips of the assistant running off with the hard drive."

I asked, "What about the victim?"

Frank's expression darkened.

"He didn't make it."

I closed my eyes tightly.

From the other end of the hallway, Sienna's sobbing echoed off the walls.

"I swear I didn't do it on purpose!"

"I had no idea he was standing there!"

"Vincent, you have to help me!"

Vincent's voice hissed, harsh and low.

"Shut up."

Sienna cried even louder.

"Are you yelling at me?!"

"Didn't you promise you were going to fix this?!"

"You said Diana was going to help you!"

Frank looked at me.

"Did you hear that?"

I said, "I heard it."

He pulled a digital voice recorder out of his pocket.

"And so did this."

Vincent was quickly escorted out of an interrogation room by a slick-looking lawyer.

When he saw me standing next to Frank, his face turned rigid.

"Frank, you really do just smell blood in the water, don't you?"

Frank didn't miss a beat. "Well, you reek of garbage."

Vincent ignored him and focused entirely on me.

"Diana, we need to talk."

I said, "Talk here."

He glanced nervously at the police officers walking down the hall.

"In private."

Frank stepped in front of me, completely blocking Vincent's view.

"She is not speaking privately with a criminal suspect."

Vincent scoffed, a dark sneer on his face.

"And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

I said, "He's my legal representative."

Frank froze for a second, then turned his head to look at me in surprise.

I stared dead at Vincent.

"From now on, anything you have to say goes through him."

Vincent's eyes turned instantly glacial.

"You're not even going to answer my calls?"

"No."

"Ten years together, and you're just going to burn it all down?"

I let out a bitter laugh.

"What exactly did those ten years give me?"

He opened his mouth.

I cut him off. "Don't mention the awards."

"I was the one who earned them for you."

Vincent's expression twisted into something ugly.

He leaned in, dropping his voice.

"If you blow this up into a media circus, no one wins."

I said, "The victim's family wins."

His Adam's apple bobbed.

"I'll pay the civil damages."

"Are you going to do the jail time?"

"Diana."

"Are you going to sit in a cell for Sienna?"

He glared at me.

"I wasn't the one driving."

I nodded.

"Neither was I."