It'll All Be Worth It

I wanna be famous. I really want to be famous. Every single time I scroll on FlipFlop, I see people- no, wait- superiors going on holidays, spending money, or even just getting thousands upon thousands of views by doing the stupidest things possible. Like what do you mean someone got nearly one million views by making random faces in front of a camera and making people feel uncomfortable in their own skin? BUT, when I do it, the only views and likes I get are my own. No matter my dedication or concerning amount of screen time, I am never any closer to being Internet famous.

“Lilith, get off the phone and get back to work. That's the second time today.”

I nearly jump out of my skin, scrambling to put my phone away and putting my fingers on the keyboard. I glare at my tiresome manager, cursing her out in my mind. It's not like I confront her when I catch her mindlessly scrolling on her phone. Hypocrite. I look back at the dull computer screen, trying not to yawn. I slowly glance up at my manager. Distracted. Yes.

I hide my phone beside my forearm and go into FlipFlop. Still no other likes. Damn it. I go onto my For You Page and I decide to just scroll instead of actually working. And there she is, my idol. Some girl who gets millions of likes and views by posting videos of herself meeting pop stars, or filming get ready with me videos, restock videos, spending money, lip syncing- you name it, she makes it. She has two billion followers. She's perfect- truly. Clear skin, thin waist, healthy hair and more importantly- famous. I wanna be like her- I wanna be her. She goes on holiday every single day and she doesn't have to deal with idiots everyday. Something bothers her? Solve it. With money. Someone doesn't like her? Impossible. Everyone likes her- she has two billion followers for crying out loud, who wouldn't like her? God, if she could teach me how be like her or how to be famous like her, then it would be perfect. I scroll through her FlipFlop page for the hundredth time now, watching her new videos and her old ones when an idea comes to mind. A stupid but worth-a-shot idea. What if I message her and ask her? Sure, she may not even reply to me but it's worth a shot. And I'm desperate. I was born to be famous, it's my purpose in life to be seen, I just can't make it happen no matter how hard I try. People hardly bat an eye or spare twenty seconds of their life for my videos. I look around quickly before slipping my phone in my pocket and heading to the bathroom, feeling giddy.

Sneakily, I slide into the restroom, looking around before I enter the last stall at the end of the row. I sit down on the ‘white’ toilet seat, whipping out my phone. Relax, relax, just message her, it's no big deal. I enter her FlipFlop page, reading her name again before messaging her.

Hey Celeste, I am such a big fan of your work! I always rewatch all of your videos. Anyways, I was wondering if you could help make me famous like you? It's my calling but I can't seem to make it happen, it's driving me crazy. Please respond as soon as you can.

I press send immediately, not giving myself any time to rethink my plan. All I need to do is pray that Celeste will see my message and actually respond. The worst thing she can possibly say is no, right? Even then, I won't take no as an answer.

“It's been three bloody months,” I hiss to my best friend, Melanie.

“Who does she think she is, a celebrity?” I continue venting to Melanie.

“Well…” begins Melanie, trailing off when I give her a sharp look.

“How much longer do I have to wait until the world notices me? Celeste messaging me back is just the first part of my plan. Then we will work together to get myself as famous as her and-”

“What makes you so sure that she will help you at all? What are you gonna give her that will make her want to help you?” Melanie cuts me off with her strange remark. And then I actually think for a moment. What will I give Celeste so that she will help me? Eh, we'll come to a fair decision.

Melanie sighs deeply, breaking the unexpected silence, taking her green framed glasses off and playing with them, her fingers unsure.

“Lilith, I'm worried about you. I understand you've always wanted to be famous or whatever but lately, it's been getting out of hand. You're always on your phone watching that famous girl's page or making your own stupid videos. It's not healthy.You need to stop with this. I suggest you leave the phone for a few hours, or better yet, a few days and give yourself time without looking at your phone screen. I barely recognise who you are anymore. You need to stop this, alright,” she announced firmly, “what makes me more upset is the fact that you don't listen or you don't seem to care.” I slowly turn to look at her, my nails digging into the palms of my hands with rage. How could she?! Melanie has always known that it is my dream, my purpose to be famous and to influence people. And yet, she dares to suggest that I take a break? I turn to her and look at her in disgust.

“What's wrong with you? You know that it's my calling. Seriously, why would you even suggest something so… so useless?”

I glare at her for a while. Nothing moves except for the wind whistling into the apartment, blowing some steam away from my ears.

“Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you like that,” I begin, feeling sorry. That wasn't right,” I begin, trailing off when I see Melanie gathering her phone and bag. She stands up and walks to the door, turning to me before leaving.

“I just think you could benefit from taking some time away from your phone. If you don't want to listen, fine. Suit yourself. You're the one who is slowly going crazy, not me,” she adds quickly before scoffing and leaving my cramped apartment, closing the door with a loud BANG.

The rest of Sunday morning drags on, the rain pitter-pattering against the windows along with the wind throwing itself against the paper thin walls of the flats. I manage to clean my cramped living space with only giving a few glances towards my phone. Then, after I'm satisfied with my cleaning, I slump down on my light blue sofa with my comfort item: my phone. Scrolling through my FlipFlop page, I see that, of course, there are no new likes. Then I check my notifications. Oh. My. Gosh. Celeste replied to me. What did she say? I click into the message, quickly skimming through it.

Celeste- Hi sweetie, I appreciate the support but I don't help crazy ladies obsessed with fame ♡

Seriously? She responds to my message months later and that's how she responds? Pathetic. I then notice when she wrote the message. Five minutes ago? Yes!

I quickly type up another message to her, my nails tapping against the phone screen with a little tip-tap-rat-a-tat.

Me- Hi Celeste, thanks for coming back to my message but I noticed that you declined my request? See, you don't understand that I'm desperate to be famous, like you. I'll do anything. Do you have a favour? I'll do it as long as you make me famous. Perhaps you could recommend me to your 2 billion followers?

I quickly press send, biting my nails to try ease my nerves. I set my phone down on the couch, face down. I wait for what feels like ages. Ping! Is that her? I reach for my phone slowly, turning it over tardily as if something would jump out. It's Celeste.

Celeste- Well, I suppose that I do have a favour. I promise I'll make you famous as long as you do this favour for me and you do it correctly. What do you say?

Is she actually considering it? Well, duh. Of course I'll do it. But what's the favour?

Me- Of course! What's the favour? I promise I'll do it perfectly.

And… send. I wonder what the favour is? You know what, I don't care. I can practically taste stardom on the tip of my tongue. I wait, watching those three dots lifting up and down forever. Gosh, she types a lot. Oh, she responded.

Celeste- Well, it's not exactly something that should be discussed over text. We should meet up and then I'll tell you. And as soon as you do it for me, then I'll make you famous. Go to Five Cafe. If you're desperate, you'll come. Don't worry, I know you're in the area. See you in ten minutes.

How.. how does she know that I live around that area? How is she here at the moment? And what could be so important that can't be discussed over text? This is fate. I know it. I pull on my red raincoat and black flats, running towards my future.

Once I enter Five Café, the pungent smell of vinegar and onions tickle my nose, making me shudder. Then I see her. Celeste with her cloud of blonde hair. I all but run to her table, slumping down across from her. She glances up at my panting state nonchalantly.

“You're late.”

“I'm sorry, it's pouring rain outside and I don't have a car and I'm so excited to meet you, it's an honour. You're my idol, I really look up to you. I'm just desperate to be famous like you, it's what I was born to do; be recognised by my peers. Please, please, please make me famous,” I gush, my cheeks turning red from embarrassment. This is the biggest moment of my life right now.

“How about we get to know each other first before we do something like this? I take it that we will be great friends, hm?” she starts, her velvety voice gliding through the air. I know everything about you, just tell me the damn favour! I think to myself.

We continue to chat and laugh for a few hours, really knowing each other. Over the course of two hours, we discussed everything. Our lives, past, present and future, family and friends, etcetera. Celeste laughs before continuing.

“Well now, let's get down to my favour for your fame. I'm sure that you're dying to know what it is, hm?” Celeste gives me a wise look of approval, waiting for me to continue.

“Yes, yes of course. Anything. Like I said, I'm just dying to achieve my purpose in life. I'll do any favour, I promise,” I declare as I put my hand on my heart in promise. This is so exciting, I wonder what it may be!

“Alright, I'll tell you. So, you know the influencer, FlameKat?” She scoffs at the name, looking at me, knowing my answer. I nod quickly. FlameKat and Celeste are complete rivals in FlipFlop. FlameKat somehow managed to beat Celeste by two followers in the yearly follower competitions. I would definitely be petty at that.

Celeste leans in and says in a low, hushed tone.

“Well, I need you to kill her.”

What? Did I hear that right? Celeste wants me to kill FlameKat for my future fame? What? I blink at Celeste, my head spinning.

“Excuse me? Did I hear that right? You want me to…” I trail off once I see Celeste nodding casually.

“Yep. You do me that favour and I'll guarantee your fame.” Her words make it sound like she's not asking me to actually murder someone. I'm desperate but not that desperate, right?

“Absolutely not, Celeste. That's crazy. I can't just… kill someone just so I can be famous! That's bloody mental!” I whisper loudly.

“Sweetie, just think about it. I get what I want and you get what you want.” I shake my head as in ‘no’.

“Well alright. I suppose I'll have to wait until someone as desperate as you comes along with the same request. Maybe they will accept my request,” Celeste sighs theatrically, resting her chin in her hand. That's when I consider it. This is my chance. I don't want to continue to work and get nowhere like I have for most of my life.

I turn to her slowly, biting my lip. It'll be worth it.

“I'll do it. I..I can do it.,” I manage to mumble out, nibbling my bottom lip.

“Great,” purrs Celeste before handing me a sealed envelope, “her address and a spare key to her house is there. Don't screw this up. That's all the information I'll give you.” She stands up, taking her handbag with her. “Oh, and if you mention this to anyone, about this get together with me, I'll exterminate you from this planet. Got it?” She stands up and leaves without looking back. It takes me a moment to process all of this. Am I seriously doing this? No, I can't. But…

I'm outside FlameKat's house. The envelope contained her address and a spare key and the exact date to kill her. Celeste had this really well planned out. ‘Go through the second window; it's always open’ and ‘wait until she just stepped out of her bathroom’. Oh, there was also ‘I need proof; record yourself’. There was a whole map and everything. I sneak in through the second window, dragging my splintered axe behind me. Bathroom, bathroom… Celeste says she always finishes her shower at exactly 7.37pm. Currently it's 7.35pm. Two minutes. I position myself beside the entrance, my sweaty hands gripping the rough wood of the axe. Then the thought hits me. I'm in someone's house, with an axe, ready to kill them. The thought makes my stomach queasy. It'll all be worth it. It'll all be worth it. It'll all be worth it.

The bathroom door unlocks. Click. Then it opens. It'll all be worth it. It'll all be worth it.

I shut my eyes tight and I step out and swing the heavy axe as hard as I can. Thick, warm blood splatters my face, making me gag. I try to take the axe back. It's stuck. I open my eyes reluctantly, my stomach flipping at the scene. FlameKat is still somewhat alive. The axe got stuck in her throat. She looks at me confused and in pain, the blood oozing down her neck and staining everything in its path. Her balance slips and she falls back, hitting her head on the bathroom sink and then on the hard, marble floor, making the scene even worse.

I gag at the puddle of blood spreading more and more, FlameKat's expression now blank and empty. I killed her. I drove and axe through her throat and killed her. Glancing up at the splattered mirror, I see myself. I'm covered in blood. I can't look at myself because it's not me anymore; it's a monster wearing my skin.

After getting home and scrubbing the blood off my body, I realise something very…grim. I didn't record myself doing it. All of that was for nothing. Rage surges through my veins. How could I be so stupid? All I had to do was press record and that would be it. It'll all be worth it, I remind myself. It's fine, Celeste will notice that she doesn't post anymore and her disappearance will definitely be on the news.

I messaged her earlier telling her that I did it but didn't record. No response.

I go and scroll through FlipFlop, trying to relax my mind after the last few days. Then I realise something. My account is blowing up. I'm getting likes, messages and views by the second. A wide grin spreads across my face. This is exactly what I've dreamed of. I scroll through my For You Page and I can see video after blurred video of someone with an axe killing someone very familiar. FlameKat.

Realisation hits me like a truck. How is this on the Internet? I never recorded myself…

Celeste. That witch. She snuck in and recorded me killing her. Now it's all over the news and Internet. Cold sweat glazes my back and palms. It'll all be worth it. It'll all be worth it. Panic makes me feel as if I'm drowning underwater. My FlipFlop page is exploding because I killed someone.

A hard banging sound comes at my door. I turn to it quickly, a wave of nausea slapping me. My legs wobble me to the door. I slowly reach to open the door, peaking through timidly.

“Are you Lilith Black?”

“Yes, that's me.”

“Lilith Black, you are under arrest for the murder of Katrina Clarke. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to an attorney.” The policeman says as he puts my hands in handcuffs. At one point, I space out and everything, every noise goes blurry.

As I'm escorted to the police station, I see people, fans of FlameKat pointing at me, me because of what I had done. But I don't notice what they shout at me. The only thing that I see is that I'm famous, acknowledged.

Then I realised something. Something that made me smile and laugh, wave to the crowd and bow once I stepped out of the police car. I am famous. I had become famous. Celeste made me famous.

I am famous, just not in the way I had thought.

It was worth it.