FALLING FOR THE DEVIL のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

I find the engagement ring while looking for condoms.Not my proudest moment, but Brandon's been "too tired" for three weeks and I'm ovulating and honestly I'm 26 years old with a boyfriend who still can't remember to buy his own socks. So yeah. I'm digging through his nightstand like a crazy person.That's when I see it.Small velvet box. Navy blue. Shoved behind a half-empty bottle of lube and some old receipts.My heart stops.Holy shit.I open it even though I know I shouldn't. Even though this ruins the surprise.It's beautiful. Oval diamond. Rose gold band. Delicate. Exactly what I would've picked if he'd ever bothered to ask what I wanted.He's going to propose.After four years of "I'm not ready" and "marriage is just a piece of paper" and "why do we need to label it" - Brandon finally bought a ring.I take a picture. Send it to Maya with seventeen exclamation points.She calls immediately. "OH MY GOD.""I KNOW.""You weren't supposed to find it!""I was looking for condoms!"

I wake up to seventeen missed calls.My head is pounding. My mouth tastes like regret and cheap wine. I reach for my phone and immediately regret it when the screen brightness stabs my eyes.Twelve calls from my mom. Three from Brandon. Two from numbers I don't recognize.Great.I check the time. 11:47 AM. I slept through my alarm. Through three client meetings. Through any chance of salvaging today.There's a text from Maya: **Check Instagram. Don't freak out.**I immediately freak out.I open Instagram. My notifications are exploding. Hundreds of new followers. Dozens of DMs. Comments on photos from months ago.What the hell?I click on my latest post. A photo from last week's wedding. Simple caption about love and new beginnings. Very on brand for a wedding photographer.Except now it has 3,000 comments.**@kellsey_marie: This you? The psycho ex from Tyler's party?****@bradonfoster_official: For everyone asking, yes this is my ex. Yes she made a scene. Yes I'm sorry you all had to

The first payment hits my account at 9:03 AM.Fifty thousand dollars.I stare at my phone screen until the numbers blur. Refresh the app six times to make sure it's real.It's real.I pay rent for the next six months in one transaction. Pay my mom's electric bill. Water bill. The medical debt she's been hiding from me.By noon I've spent eighteen thousand dollars and still have more money than I've seen in my life.I should feel relieved.Instead I feel like I just sold my soul.Email from Claire arrives at 12:47 PM.**Flight tonight 11 PM. Car picks you up at 8. Pack for six months. Don't bring anything you can't afford to lose or have photographed by paparazzi. See you in LA.**I read it five times.Don't bring anything I can't afford to have photographed.What does that even mean?I spend four hours packing. Unpack everything. Start over.Most of my clothes are garbage. Stretched out t-shirts. Jeans with holes that aren't fashionable. Nothing that would survive six months.I go to

The alarm goes off at 4:30 AM.I slap it off. Lay there staring at the ceiling.Four hours of sleep. That's all I got.My body feels like I got hit by a truck. My eyes burn. My hands still ache from holding the camera for eight hours straight yesterday.I drag myself to the shower. Stand under scalding water until I can think straight.By the time I'm dressed it's 5:15.Downstairs the kitchen is empty. No coffee made. No Lennon working out.I make my own coffee. Drink it black because I don't have time for anything else.The car arrives at 5:30 exactly.Different driver. Same silence.We drive through LA in the dark. I check my phone.The anonymous email from last night is still there. I read it again.**He will destroy you. Not because he's evil. Because that's what he does.**I should delete it.I don't.We pull up to a different location today. Some mansion in the hills. Gates. Security. Cameras everywhere.Claire meets me at the entrance."Photo shoot today. Magazine cover. Vogue

The second San Francisco show is worse than the first.Not the performance. That's flawless.But everything else falls apart.It starts during sound check. The monitors aren't working right. Feedback keeps screeching through the speakers.Lennon stops mid-song. "Fix it."The sound engineer rushes to adjust things. "Give me two minutes.""You've had all day to get this right.""I know, I'm sorry. The equipment is broken and we're waiting on replacements.""I don't care about excuses. Fix it or I'm canceling the show."Everyone freezes.Claire steps forward. "Lennon, we can't cancel. It's sold out.""Then fix the monitors."He walks off stage. Slams his dressing room door so hard I feel it from across the venue.I'm shooting all of this from the side. Capturing the tension. The fear on everyone's faces.Claire notices me. Walks over."Don't use any of those photos.""Why not?""Because Lennon doesn't want people seeing him like this. Angry. Out of control.""But this is part of the proc