Arne Johnson Now Novels & Stories

Well mostly Arianna. "Hi, mind if we sit here?" Arianna requests, blinking her eyes and sucking in a lip. Oh come on. Johnson eyes widen before scanning her body, his lips pull up in a smirk but drops when his eyes lands on me. I definitely didn't miss the flash of terror in his eyes. "Yes sure." He replies nonchalantly, waving us off. Johnson has medium-length dirty blonde hair, light grey eyes and was about six feet tall. He had regular features that could almost be called

"The return of AJ will definitely shock a lot of people. Your last album is still selling, you know. People ask me about you all the time." AJ. My stage name, my secret identity. The part of me that existed before Darius, before marriage, before I became someone I didn't recognize. "There's a charity event at the New York Museum next week," Johnson continued, his excitement growing. "High-profile crowd, lots of media. The organizer owes me a favor. I could get you a spot to perform." "I don't know if I'm ready," I said, fear creeping into my voice. "It's been so long. What if I've lost it? What if I'm not good enough anymore?"