Fallen

By Chloe Behrens

In this stunning opening to the series, Ella Rose seems to have it all. She’s just achieved fame, and outwardly appears to have everything her heart could desire. But not all is as it seems; her high-profile relationship with actor Jonathan Bradley is simmering down, as his career plummets. Her feelings towards her founder and manager are changing, and throwing her for a loop.

And then there’s the beautiful Cash Murphy, who will become an invaluable part of her life, and ultimately end up giving her a run for her money.

This is a tale of heartache. It’s a series that embarks on a tale of love, lust, pain, heartache, and fame in all its glory.

Just make sure you check your morals at the door.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chloe Behrens
• Release date: May 2, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301672363

Chloe Behrens

Chloe Behrens was born in Hudson Valley, NY and now resides in the suburbs of Dallas, TX."I fell in love with writing as soon as I learned how to read," she says. "Picture books progressed into lovelorn poetry. Poetry turned into short stories, and then the Van Steenburgh Family began in my teenage years. The story began, and then it wasn't until my early twenties that the second novel in the series came out. The last novel in the series was written this year. It was hard to put it to rest after it being with me for so many years." Still, she triumphed on.After the release of her Van Steenburgh saga, she penned two more books -- neither of which belong to a series. "Breaking Berlyn was so fun to tell because of the characters. Gavin and Berlyn's banter is so witty, and I love how he keeps her on her toes. He finds ways to open her up to new things, and she really needs that. Sometimes, we all do."Happily Ever After: A Tale of a Wedding Planner, has become more popular as a chick-lit/contemporary romance. It's being featured in the Frankfurt International Book Fair 2012, and is her best-selling book, yet! "I think it's because the main character Banner is so flawed, and independent. A lot of the fun, fearless women of today can relate to her. She's strong-willed, career-oriented, and she's human. She makes mistakes." Her male counterpart, Christian Brenhoff, is the epitome of what every woman wants, but doesn't want. "Or so she thinks. I don't know. We are all guilty of judging people, and when it backfires on us, we sometimes don't know how to handle that."She is currently working on her second series, and when she's not typing away on her laptop working on a story, she enjoys traveling, spending time with her pets, and life with her longtime boyfriend/best friend Shaun. "My life is an adventure," she adds. "One I thoroughly enjoy with each passing minute!"

Book preview

Fallen

© 2013, Chloe Behrens. All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-1-300-99075-8

Published by K R Cimorelli

SMASHWORDS Edition: 2013



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Basketball Euphemisms

We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. The road was long. We were both stubborn. It wasn't thought out. At times, it wasn't even fair…

In my heart, I knew she was The One, from the first moment I saw her. She had no idea, but I knew she felt it. The spark in her eye when our eyes first locked wasn't recognition; it was Fate.

The ball was in her court, even then.

Part I

Chapter 1

Coffee in hand, I took a seat in the patio chair that called my name every morning at sunrise. Always so inspired by its beauty, I couldn’t help but snap a few pictures of the orange and pink clouds hovering overhead. We were just far enough away that I couldn’t smell the Pacific Ocean out in the distance. The breeze was cool against my skin, and the skies above whispered promises of a beautiful day. I wasn’t sure if Los Angeles weather knew how to have anything but.

As usual, I heard the door open just moments after I curled my feet up beneath me. My boyfriend came into my peripheral vision, and he was stirring the cream into his coffee when he took the seat beside mine. Are you nervous about your table reading today?

I thoughtfully shook my head. I didn’t feel like much could make me nervous, anymore. I’m actually pretty excited about it, I revealed, brushing a wind-blown tendril of hair from my face.

Conquering big things, and treading new ground, he spoke, sending a smile in my direction.

It’s about time, I said with a sigh. The impending production of what would be my very first movie had been pushed back several months, due to setbacks, and then scheduling conflicts. I just wanted to work. It seemed like both of us had come to a stalemate. I was beginning to think it just wouldn’t happen.

Delays happen. He brought the coffee mug to his lips, and my eyes lingered upon him for a long moment, before they dropped to the copy of the script I’d left out on the patio table, from the night before. Jon’s excitement about my upcoming role waned considerably after his last movie turned out to be a flop in the theaters. I tried to be positive. I was beyond supportive and excited for him, when it came out. He’d worked on it for months after we first met.

But that project suffered from horrible reviews, and even worse numbers. Jon’s acting was sourly critiqued, and I don’t care what any celebrity says to the public — you can’t 100% shut all the bad stuff out. It’s just impossible. Now, seven months later, Jonathan Bradley the child star and actor still hadn’t gotten a role to keep him occupied, and he was struggling with that. He spent his free time working on a script, and I encouraged him and praised his efforts nonstop. He talked about his ideas for turning it into an indie movie, and I even offered myself up to take a role in it.

He was pensively staring out in the distance. I was worried that my first day on the set of my project would be another dent in his already fragile ego. What are your plans for the day?

I’m meeting Will in a few, and we’re going to hit some golf balls, he replied, checking the time on his phone. Good. Some time alone with his uncle would probably be good for him.

Perhaps we can all go to dinner tonight, I suggested brightly.

Sure, I’ll mention that to him. Jon rose from his chair, and leaned down to give me a kiss on the forehead. I’m going to jump in the shower, he informed me.

I stood and followed him inside. Let me just grab my purse from in there, I requested casually. I’ll probably be gone by the time you get out.

I grabbed my bag from the bathroom counter, and he stopped me by slipping his arm around my waist, before pulling me to him. His kiss on my lips was light and warm. Enjoy yourself today, he wished me with a smile that almost looked forced. If Murphy’s leg even just grazes yours under that table, kick him in the groin.

Ah yes. There was that, also. "I love you, I spoke pointedly, before rising to the tips of my toes to give him one last kiss before I headed out the door. Ever since Jon learned who my co-star was in this modern-day adaptation of Madame Butterfly," the mere mention of Cash Murphy’s name made him scowl. Especially after remarks Cash had boldly made to the media about how excited he was to work with me, and whether he was just hamming it up for the buzz or not, mentioning that I was his new celebrity crush.

But I paid him no mind, and I told Jon a million times that he shouldn’t, either. I didn’t know anything about Cash Murphy until I was contracted into the lead role of the ill-fated girl who a soldier married out of convenience while he was at war, even though he intended the entire time to leave her behind. Originally, my character was written as a Japanese girl. But Hollywood has a way of twisting and warping stories to suit their alternative ideas, and they certainly found a way to generalize the story to make it fit their cast.

When I arrived at the studios, I was greeted by Joe Ridley, the director, who had also been the one behind the music video for my first hit, nearly a year ago. He promptly gave me a tour and showed me around the studios we would be shooting most of our scenes. I had my own trailer in the back-lot, and my name was posted on the outside of it. It was absolutely surreal to see. If you want to poke around a little bit, you’ve got approximately twenty minutes before we’ll begin the table reading, he told me, before he started back in the direction of the studios. See you in a few, okay?

Armed with a script and my phone, I excitedly snapped a picture of the window of my trailer that had a slip of paper taped on the inside with my name on it. Ella Rose, Madame Butterfly was all it read, but it told a much bigger tale to me. It really did astound me how far I had come in my life.

I posted the picture to my Instagram page, which now had over a hundred-and-fifty-thousand followers — all of which had opinions all across the spectrum of me that they freely commented on my every post. I tried not to read them. The times that I did made me wonder how I ever got famous in the first place, if so many people detested me. For every wonderful comment, there seemed to be three ugly ones, insulting my weight, my looks, my music, my relationship with Jon, or my picture-taking skills. I think those people lose sight that celebrities are still human.

Hi there. I turned away from staring in wonder at my trailer, to find Cash Murphy slowly striding towards me. His dark hair was poking out from beneath his trucker cap, but his pale blue-gray eyes beheld an impish glint. Am I disturbing a private moment between you and your trailer?

We were getting acquainted, I confirmed with a crooked smile. My eyes settled upon his handsome face that had a case of five o’clock shadow at nine in the morning. Those eyes of his were fixed upon me in a way that made me think he could see straight through me. Are you excited to kick this thing off today? I gave him a bright smile.

His lips parted to reveal a killer smile. I’ve been ready to get this show on the road since I landed the part. His voice was velvety smooth. It lent a feeling of mystery to everything he spoke.

Wearing a plaid shirt in assorted blues and grays, and jeans that fit a frame that was similar to Jon’s, he almost reminded me of a lumberjack. An attractive lumberjack. Are you ready to head to our table reading, Lieutenant Pinkerton?

His grin widened, brightening his eyes lined with dark lashes. You ready to get your heart broken, my beautiful butterfly?

His words made my heart flutter. Bring it, I challenged with a smile, as I started walking in the direction of the studios.

I plan on it, he spoke as I passed him by.

He ended up in the seat directly across the table from me, and we were surrounded by another fifteen or so people. Joe expressed his vision to us, and his hopes for what the movie would convey, and I have to say — it was exciting. The cast was made up of a few actors and actresses that I had already met previously, through events. When we began reading the script, another air entirely washed over everyone seated around me. The transformation into our characters was an easy transition for all.

Right before the time that my character and Cash’s Lieutenant Pinkerton get married and get ready to spend their first night together, it was time for us to break for lunch. Thirty minutes, guys! Joe called out to us all. None of us want to be here all night!

I helped myself to some of the salad from the catered buffet, and grabbed a bottle of water. Some people went outside to smoke. Some people went to check out their trailers and eat. I returned to my seat at the table, and checked my phone while I picked at my salad.

A plate was set down beside me, and Patty’s script was shoved across the table, to where Cash’s name tent was sitting. But, instead, Cash took it upon himself to seize possession of the chair next to mine. Where’s your real food? He asked, giving my plate of greens a critical look.

His plate was full of carbs. Yummy, delicious carbs. I’ve been instructed not to eat that, I replied dryly.

Who would tell you something like that!? He appeared offended on my behalf. So much so, that it made me laugh. Seriously?

His pasta and garlic bread smelled amazing. Do me a favor and enjoy it enough for the both of us, I spoke, returning back to my text asking Jon if we were doing dinner that night, or not. I at least wanted to prepare him for my possible lateness.

Are you working on anything else right now?

I set my phone down and picked my fork back up. No, I answered him thoughtfully. Surprisingly. It’s finally died down a little, from the album and what-not. It's a little nerve-wracking, after being so consistently busy.

Well, I don’t know if you realize it or not, but this is pretty much going to consume your life for the next few months. I felt like there was some weight behind his words, along with the piercing look he then shot over at me.

I’ll try not to grate on your nerves in that time, I shot at him with a half-smirk. But I can’t make any promises.

You folks ready to carry on? Joe Ridley was a stickler for staying on schedule. Our eyes lifted to follow him as he breezed into the room. Cash swiped my empty plate along with his, and tossed them in the trash before a quick return to the seat beside mine.

You have to understand, Joe spoke to Cash and I, that Pinkerton didn’t really care about this wedding. He had no intentions of keeping you around, he spoke to me. You’re happy and excited, and you think he really is going to be your everything. You have no idea that he just plans on leaving you as soon as his duty is over. I nodded. I got it. Thanks to the late Miss Rosemary, who as a child gave me a deeper knowledge behind the haunting operas I began to sing along to, this was a story I knew as well as the back of my hand. So just keep that in the back of your mind through this scene. You’re just kind of going along with things, he directed Cash. You realizing that you actually give a damn is going to come way later. Once it’s already too late, actually. Because after realizing he has left me for good and has taken up with someone else, I fall into a depression and kill myself before the movie ends.

Pretty sad stuff.

We finished late. I was supposed to meet everyone at the restaurant for dinner. No sooner had Joe finished speaking did I jump from my chair and I was the first one out the door. I called Jon and let him know I was on my way, and the restaurant sounded slightly busy, from the noise in the background. He didn’t seem fazed by my lateness. His dazzling eyes found me as I approached the table where he sat with his uncle Will and Will's lovely companion, Emily Stratford.

You look so tired! Emily rose and gave me a hug when I walked up. How did the first day go?

Exhausting, I answered, but with a smile. Sorry I’m late!

William Hatcher’s smile was pleasant and charming. Rarely was he never either of those two attributes. So I guess it’s a good thing that you didn’t end up booking that tour after all, he teased.

He was indeed correct. I draped my cloth napkin across my lap, and gave him a smirk. As usual, you knew what you were talking about, I gave him. However, I don't wear stir-crazy very well.

You don't always have to be busy, you know. His green eyes were almost smirking at me.

I felt like I wasn’t earning my keep, I countered.

Easy for you to say, Jon quipped downward, causing his uncle and I to look at him. It was a remark I chose not to acknowledge, but one that didn’t go unnoticed by his uncle.

You'll be finished with your script in no time, Will spoke without missing a beat. It was a script Jon was hoping might revive his career.

I’ve developed a case of writer’s block. Jon frowned, and then scratched his head. Though, I did get a call about a part in some cheesy, romantic comedy today, he announced in a mocking tone. Next thing you know, I’ll be as obsolete as James Van Der Beek.

"You had one bad movie."

Two. Jon’s look was sullen. It matched the mood of our time together, anymore.

Well, I think that’s good news, I spoke, as I eyed the bowl of bread in the middle of our table. Work is work, right?

Quality is better than quantity.

You achieved most of your fame for being a heartthrob, Emily cautiously spoke. You don’t think those same girls who loved you for years will go and see you shirtless in some romance movie?

Shirtless? I gave him a playful nudge, trying to lighten the mood. It at least evoked a smile out of him. Wait a minute — who plays the chick that takes and breaks your heart? Do I have any say-so in that?

He appreciated my mock-jealousy. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who has to worry about flirty co-stars, he pointed out with a look of mild irritation that caused me to sigh.

Who? Emily was in the dark.

Cash Murphy. She looked back at him as if she were trying to place him, but couldn’t. He was in that ridiculous sci-fi flick that they made of those kids’ toys. The ones with special powers that could only be controlled by the people who played with them. She had no idea what he was talking about. Anyways, it doesn’t matter. He’s a douchebag.

You’re very opinionated, these days. Will’s statement was nonchalant, but the look in his eye was not.

You've always been too nice, was Jon's sharp response.

Will sighed. Let’s have a nice meal, shall we?

The mood at the table was indeed tense. I couldn't make it anything but, whenever Jon was concerned, anymore. He did manage to drop all chat about work, or even lack thereof. Our food arrived, and Emily began to tell us about the upcoming vacation she had finally talked Will into going on. It was a first or them, and the first break from work that William Hatcher had taken in years. He sat there silently, as Emily chattered on about it. Just as silently as his nephew, whom I sat beside. They both just stared down at their plates. They both seemed to have the same look upon their faces. There was a strange air about the table. I found myself jealous about the impending vacation my founder and his girlfriend were taking. I suddenly felt I needed one, myself.

My eyes kept gravitating toward the man sitting adjacent to me at the table, as he concentrated on his steak with a forced air of casualness. I no longer heard the words coming out of Emily's mouth excitedly. As far as I was concerned, she was beginning to sound like a woman who was trying to make the best of a situation that was becoming more and more one-sided as the minutes passed. She was starting to sound like myself.

I might’ve been the one that kick-started their relationship, but I now found myself wondering if I had just put a man who hadn't yet got over the passing of his wife, and a starry-eyed woman looking for romance, directly on the path to disaster. The same path I felt like I was on, now.

Many long days spent recording, performing, being interviewed, signing autographs, and building my brand had passed since Will discovered me. It seemed like so many moons ago, when in reality it had just been a year-and-a-half since he brought me to sunny Los Angeles, from the cold and damp subway he found me in, in New York. It was pure luck that his driver's car had broke down, and he was running late. Forever punctual, Will took to the subway to make sure he got where he needed to go. He hadn't expected running into me, any more than I had expected my entire life to change when he paused and listened to me tiredly singing my favorite aria from La Wally.

Neither one of our lives were the same, after that.

Right after bringing me to California, music executive William Hatcher’s first task was finding me a tutor to continue my studies, so I could get my diploma. In walked Miss Emily Stratford, whose patience with me helped me persevere with my dream, and whose eyes lit up every time a certain person came home from work in the evenings. Around the same time, I had met Jonathan Bradley, who was Will's once-charming nephew, who had the world at his fingertips. Jon was a star since he was almost too little to remember. I remembered his face on cereal commercials, back when I was a child. I watched his hit television series, growing up. I had a crush on him, along with every other girl my age. So, when I met him in person, and then found out he was Will's nephew, I was beyond speechless.

Then, imagine my surprise when a nobody like me became the object of such a megastar's affection.

I purposely orchestrated the dinner when Will and Emily were left on their own, thinking that it was in both of their best interests. I thought they needed one another. I thought everyone deserved to be just as happy as Jon and I were. What the hell did I know? I was just a seventeen year old. Not that I was much better, now. Perhaps more tainted. But I didn't feel much smarter…

Things had been so perfect in the first months that Jon and I got together. It was so perfect that it was scary. Until the movie that he had been working on when we met tanked at the theaters. The next one didn't do any better. I tried not to pay attention, but to hear him speak, it did a hundred times worse. He was convinced his career was being flushed down a toilet. It didn't help that my career was only getting better.

Now, all I wanted was for Jon to get a part in a movie to take his mind off of things, so that we could find our happy again. Luckily, I would get my wish. He ended up taking that part, in the cheesy, romantic comedy that he seemed less than thrilled about.

And as it turns out, news travels fast.

When I arrived at my trailer a few mornings later, I almost jumped out of my skin when I found Cash sitting on the couch, inside. Good morning! His smile was bright. He was flipping through his script. The light pouring in from the window made his eyes appear to glow against his dark eyelashes.

I gestured toward the sign in the window, and gave him a confused look. Am I in the wrong trailer?

He shook his head. No, why?

Because I thought this was mine. I playfully plucked the script from his hands and tossed it beside him on the couch. What are you doing in here, anyway?

Clogged toilet in my trailer.

I turned sharply to give him a look. So you came to do the same job on mine?

I didn’t do it, he insisted innocently. Clearly, my trailer is not in good living condition. I didn’t think you’d mind. He flashed me a wicked grin. He was clean-shaven today. The smooth lines of his face would’ve made him appear almost pretty, if it weren’t for the trucker hat and work boots sticking out from the bottoms of his jeans.

Do you always dress like a farmer?

He carefully contemplated my question. What’s wrong with how I’m dressed? He spread his arms out wide, looking his flannel shirt over. At least I don’t smell, right?

I haven’t gotten close enough to confirm that, I replied, taking a seat in the chair adjacent to him. Leave my toilet alone, I added.

I wouldn’t dare dream of corrupting your throne, he spoke, before he stretched out even further on my couch. Just… making himself comfortable. I found it amusing. I hear your boyfriend got the part in Priscilla Watley’s next film, he brought up.

News travels fast. He just accepted it yesterday.

I was trying to get the part, he revealed, which actually surprised me. But then with this movie finally starting to move, I had to drop it.

I found that rather interesting. If it were even true. Something about him made me wonder if the things that came out of his mouth were simply meant for shock factor. I think we’re going to be late, if we don’t get on over to wardrobe, I said, picking my script back up.

We can consider it payback for them making us wait, he winked.

Amen to that, I muttered with a small laugh. Then he caught me eyeing him curiously. Remember that stunt you pulled last year at the movie awards?

The immediate sparkle in his eye paired itself with a slow-burning smile that crept over his face. What do you speak of?

He knew exactly what I was referring to. This exact project, and how he proclaimed how next year's award would be going to us for Best Kiss of the Year Award. It was the first time I'd ever met Cash Murphy. I blushed and shook my head with a chuckle. My boyfriend was not too happy with you, I sang.

For me referring to how epic our movie kiss would be? Or how I declared my crush on you?

You apparently have no shame, I shot at him, but I was amused and flattered, nonetheless. But both, now that you mention it.

Insecure?

You have no idea… Especially right now… We better get out of here, before we're late to our first day shooting, I fired at him, unable to stifle the tiny smile upon my face.

Chapter 2

The upside to Jon accepting this new role was that he began to get excited about working again. He was happier, which gave me hope that things might return back to normal. Slowly, we began to go back to where we were before all this mess started with his last movie tanking. The downside, however, was that our schedules were both eating up all our free time. We hardly got to see one another.

But absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Technically, I was still living at Will’s spacious estate in the Palisades. Jon’s place was in Santa Monica, and although it really wasn’t far at all, it wasn’t like we just came home to one another. I had a key to his place, but oftentimes when I knew he’d be coming home late, I’d just go to Will’s, instead. Seeing one another took coordination now that our schedules were so full, and sometimes we just weren’t good at it. Sometimes I fell asleep before he came home. A few times, it was vice versa. Now, with both of us filming, everything was amplified all of a sudden. Will had a strict rule against Jon sleeping over, which was fair and easy enough to respect, since Jon did have a place of his own. Jon had been mentioning for some time that I should just move in with him. It should've been a good thing, right? I should've jumped at the chance. Any other girl happily in love would've. But as with everything else relationship-wise, I had reservations. The scars of my past prominently stood in the way of that becoming a reality.

I’d just like to remind you that I’m off tomorrow, I pointed out, as we lay tangled up in one another in his bed, late one night.

You’ve already mentioned this, he confirmed, giving me a light squeeze.

"I’m just making sure you don’t forget about me, and then make me spend my entire evening alone. All alone," I pronounced dramatically.

You’re really taking this acting stuff seriously, he teased. "I will be home tomorrow as soon as we wrap up shooting. I promise. Besides, I thought Carrie and Julie were keeping you occupied all day?"

They are, I admitted. Carrie was the sister of Jon’s friend Eric, and Julie was his friend Chris’s longtime girlfriend. But I’d still like to see you.

His phone went off, and it was a text message. He picked it up, and I swear I saw that the name on the screen was Hannah Meadlin. His over-the-top-gorgeous blonde co-star. He checked the phone, and then snickered, before setting it back aside. Now, it was my turn to be insecure.

What’d she want?

Who?

Who? "Hannah."

Oh. Because, in the split-second since he glanced at his phone, he forgot who sent him the message? She just sent me a joke. Nothing big.

I knew how he'd respond if Cash sent me a text. But Cash didn't have my number. I didn’t have his. Sure, I recognized the insecure Fiorella inside me poking her head out to say hello and remind me that she was still there. So I restrained myself from making any further comments, and snuggled up against him, before I fell asleep.

And when I awoke, his phone was blinking again with messages.

I got out of bed, and my emotions began toying with me just as they had before I fell asleep. Hell, what was worse — a stupid text? Or the fact that he would be half-naked, making out with her for days on end, all for the sake of this movie? Honestly, I didn’t know which one was worse, to be quite honest. I don’t know how I was supposed to be okay with that. After we got together, the first time I ever saw him kiss somebody on screen nearly sent me into a jealous rage.

Could I really say anything, though? Cash and I had a couple of similar scenes we'd have to shoot, in the upcoming weeks.

Somehow, none of this made me feel any better.

My first boyfriend Austin had done some damage to a teenage girl’s already fragile frame of