Chapter 1 ✔️

2 months before...

Jefferson Blake slouches tiredly on the plush armchair he had been placed in. His dark teal dress shirt feels suffocating compared to the warm, soft hoodie he was wrenched out of minutes before. He stretches his left leg out, sighing silently, letting his thoughts wash over him.

This is the fourth appearance he'd been dragged into today and it's only noon. Though fame does come with the money, friends and adoring fans, Jefferson often finds himself wondering what it would be like to have been born into a normal family, where he could go to public school and have a regular job. He stops that train of thought as quickly as it had manifested; he's in a privileged position, he mustn't forget that.

"So, Jefferson, your latest movie, 'The Stone' premieres in two weeks time, am I correct?" The talkshow host asks brightly, a wide smile spreading onto his fresh face. Unlike Jeff, he obviously hadn't been up since four in the morning.

"Yes, you're quite right." Jeff forces a grin, even though he feels like he could collapse at any given moment. He has to keep up appearances, for the fans. Prompted by that train of thought, he looks out toward the huge crowd, noticing at least five banners with variations of the phrase, 'I love you Jefferson' written in bold across them.

He chuckles, "And I suspect you'll all be there too?" He grins at the deafening cheer he gets in response. As overbearing as they can be sometimes, his fans are amazingly supportive, and he loves them for it.

The host, Ryan, Jeff vaguely remembers, laughs and asks another question, "You play a medieval knight in this film; how does this role differ from the ones you've had in the past? I mean, you've always been seen in more modern, teenage films, romantic comedies and the like. This one's a lot more serious and deep isn't it?"

The star rubs his neck, pretending as though he hasn't heard the question a dozen times before, "I mean... I'm growing up now, I'm 21 years old now and I'm starting to act like it. And as I grow up, my fans do too, so I think it's time I gave them a change and gave them something more mature to watch." The crowd cheered at that, and Ryan nodded, satisfied.

"You're a very mature young man. A lot of people have said so." Ryan starts, then his mood shifts, and a sombre expression washes over his face, "However, there are some more... offensive things that people have said about you. Some rumours that have been flying around lately."

Jefferson nods slowly, already knowing exactly what Ryan was referring to. Despite this, he decides to play dumb, might as well humour the guy.

"People have been saying that you, perhaps, don't share the same...taste in partners, as some of your on screen roles would suggest. How do you feel about it, would you like to defend yourself?"

Jefferson sighs and shrugs, "Not really."

Dead silence.

"Not really?" Ryan presses, "What do you mean?"

Jeff uncrosses his legs and sits back in his chair, relaxed, as if the question didn't phase him - which it doesn't.

"It's not really anyone's business who I want to sleep with, so I don't have to defend myself against them." Jefferson shrugs, unbothered, letting his mouth curve up into a half-smile, "Besides, it not particularly offensive. I'm being called gay, not a racist or a pedophile. There's nothing offensive about this speculation."

Ryan narrows his eyes, moving in closer, as if he's digging for a deep secret, "Well, then you wouldn't mind me asking; are you gay?"

Jefferson blinks once, "No,"

"Okay." Ryan moves back and nods. He looks at the cue cards as if to change topics, but the young star interrupts,

"I'm bisexual."

~~~~~

"That was brave, kid." Betty Blake says to her son as he enters the green room at the back of the television studio. She's bent over the countertop with a cigarette in her hand, there's a magazine open in front of her, on a page that reads in bright lettering, "Jefferson Blake: Ladykiller"

"I know," Jeff sighs, grabbing a bottle of water from the sleek black mini fridge, and twisting it open, "But I felt ready. Do you think it was the right time?"

Betty straightens up, and turns to face her son, who has found a seat on the sofa, and leans on the side of the counter, "You're a big boy now, J," she takes a drag of her cigarette, "It doesn't matter what I think."

Jefferson exhales, "I'm asking you as a celebrity, not my mother."

Betty moves over to her son and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Her strawberry blonde hair looking voluminous from where it rests just above her shoulders, giving Jeff intense flashbacks of the fiery red mane he inherited from her, and had spent years trying to tame. Jefferson can smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke that surrounds her, and he finds it oddly comforting. He doesn't get to bond with his mother often, so it's things like this that give him faint, fond memories.

"And I'm answering you as your mother, not a celebrity. I just want what's best for you. I want you to be happy."

Did he seem happy?

"And?" Jefferson raises an eyebrow.

"You look like you've conquered a kingdom." Betty smiles.

"That's a good thing right?"

She ruffles Jefferson's unruly light ginger hair, "It's a great thing."