The mansion was quieter than it had been in days. The echo of laughter and the clink of glasses from her recent event had faded, and now only the faint hum of the city's nightlights filtered through the windows. Celeste sat in her study, her hands clenched tightly around a glass of water, her mind swirling.
She had to tell her mother tonight. There was no more avoiding it.
Celeste had been walking a fine line between the worlds of fame and the darkness that now enveloped her life. But the moment had come. She had made her decision, and she couldn't shield her family from this truth forever.
Her mother and Rollie were upstairs, settling in, admiring the new house. Rollie had been endlessly curious about everything, excited about the possibility of being closer to Celeste's world. But Celeste knew the truth. She couldn't let Rollie get caught in this. Not like she had.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.
Riot
She glanced at it, her heart thudding. She hadn't spoken to him since the binding. The hunger still pulsed inside her, but she had learned to suppress it. For now.
We need to talk. About everything.
Celeste stared at the message, her mind racing. He was already a part of this world, tangled in the web of power and control, just like she was. Maybe more so. They both fed from each other, connected in ways that went beyond just physical attraction. But she couldn't let herself get lost in that right now.
Her mother needed to know.
With a shaky breath, Celeste stood up and walked out of the study, heading toward her mother's bedroom.
When she knocked, the door swung open immediately, and there was her mother—beautiful as ever, her eyes filled with the warmth of a woman who had worked tirelessly to make sure her children had everything.
"Celeste," her mother said with a soft smile, "you okay? You've been acting off since earlier."
Celeste swallowed hard. "Mom, we need to talk. It's… It's about everything."
Her mother's smile faded, and she nodded, stepping aside to let Celeste in.
They sat on the plush chairs by the window, the city lights casting soft shadows across the room. The air between them felt heavy, as if the very walls of the mansion knew that something dark was about to be revealed.
"Mom," Celeste began, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm not the same person I was when I left. Things have changed. And I… I need you to know what's really going on."
Her mother's brow furrowed with concern. "What do you mean, honey? You're scaring me."
Celeste closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm a part of something, Mom. Something bigger than me. It's not just the fame and the record deal. There's this… group. This cult. They've helped me, helped me get where I am now. And they're feeding off me, in a way. And I—"
Her mother's eyes widened, her hands trembling. "A cult? Celeste, no…"
"I know it sounds crazy," Celeste rushed, "but it's not what you think. They're not… hurting me, not in the way you'd expect. It's just—there's this power, this… exchange. But Mom, I need you to understand. You're a part of this too now, whether you like it or not."
Her mother stared at her, confused, terrified, and utterly lost. "What do you mean, Celeste? What do you mean I'm a part of this?"
"I signed the contract, Mom. I'm bound to them now. And now, you're bound too. But don't worry, you won't have to feed like I do. You'll just… be safe. I'm making sure of that."
Her mother's face twisted with fear, but Celeste kept talking, reassuring her that she wouldn't have to sacrifice herself, wouldn't be forced into the same ritualistic bind that had turned Celeste into something else entirely.
Her mother still didn't understand, but Celeste could see the fear fade slowly from her eyes. She would protect her family from the darker aspects of this world.
"Celeste," her mother whispered, "I don't know what you're involved in, but I trust you. Just promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll stay safe."
"I will, Mom," Celeste promised, her voice thick with emotion. "I won't let anything happen to you or Rollie. I'll protect both of you."
They hugged, and for a brief moment, Celeste felt the warmth of normalcy. But she knew that this life wasn't something she could easily walk away from. She had chosen this path, for better or worse.
And as she pulled away, her phone buzzed again.
It was from Riot again.
We need to talk in person. I can't do this without you.
Celeste hesitated. The hunger inside her surged, and she knew he wasn't talking just about their bond. He was talking about something deeper, something that she wasn't sure she was ready to face.
But before she could respond, her mother spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Celeste… there are people trying to get to you. People who want what you have. You've made it big, but I can see the toll it's taking on you. Don't let them take everything from you."
Her words stung. And yet, they echoed in her mind as she stepped out of the room to answer Riot's message.
In the days that followed, Celeste found herself drawn to conversations with other celebrities—names that she had only dreamed of collaborating with, now within arm's reach. It was 2020, the world was shifting. And so was she.
Billie Eilish reached out, a message coming through with her signature bluntness.
You good? I've been seeing your name everywhere. Want to talk sometime?
Celeste stared at the message for a moment. Billie. A girl who had mastered the art of control, of molding her image to fit what she wanted. Celeste had admired her from the start, but now she was curious. What would it be like to talk to someone else who understood this strange new world of fame?
Justin Bieber also slid into her DMs one afternoon, his message offering an unexpected warmth.
Hey Celeste. I've been watching your journey. It's impressive, honestly. Want to chat sometime about how you're navigating all this madness?
Celeste hesitated, but then she typed a quick response:
Would love to. It's been a crazy ride.
She knew that these conversations—these connections—were a part of her new world. A world that was nothing like what she had dreamed of when she was younger, watching her idols on TV. It was darker, more dangerous. But it was also filled with power, with endless possibility.
And with every conversation, she felt herself growing more and more disconnected from the version of herself that had once been hopeful.
The hunger was growing stronger. But now, she had the means to feed it—and with every new connection, every conversation with the elite, she felt the power becoming easier to control.
But deep down, Celeste knew one thing for sure: there was no going back. She was tied to this world now, and she had to make the most of it, whatever the cost.