Hello Readers! I just wanted to say that I am going to be rewriting this story. As soon as I get the first few chapters done, I will be replacing this version. Laters!

Chapter 1: Prologue

"What do you mean I can't go?!" Benedict yelled at Mr. Ruderfer as they walked from the producer's trailer.

"You didn't give me a two days notice!" he yelled back. Benedict Kingston, an actor that was becoming well-known throughout the world, had been invited to meet a certain girl. This may seem, to most of you, that he only cared about meeting this girl for his own purposes, however that is not the case. On the contrary, Benedict was invited to meet a girl who had contracted a very rare disease, so rare that there was no cure. All he knew was that she was dying and her sister, Christine, had invited him, as well as others, to meet her.

The only problem with this was that Benedict had received the invitation the day of the event, in America. Now all he had to do was convince the producer and the director to let him go and visit her. When he had asked the producer, he was not given a straight answer, meaning, as everyone knew, no. Mr. Ruderfer now was rejecting the notion altogether.

"Benedict, you, as well as everyone here, know that I need at least a two days notice. I can't drop everything on the spot just to let you leave. I'm sorry Benedict, but no. You can't go. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Mr. Ruderfer left Benedict to go talk to a group of people standing outside the stage door. Benedict sighed and walked to his trailer after telling one of the many PA's. He looked at the letter once again, reading the cursive handwriting.

Mr. Benedict Kingston,

You are invited to meet my sister, Ms. Rebecca Bassett on September 21st, 2017 at Unity Hospitals in Lanstone, Ohio. We would be honored if you can make it, especially her. Sadly, Rebecca contracted this very rare disease that is killing her and apparently there is no known cure for it. This is one of her last wishes. Please contact me at the number below and let me know if you will or will not be able to attend.

Sincerely,

Christine Bassett

Benedict grabbed his mobile from his nightstand and typed in the number. The phone rang twice before a stern female voice answered.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hello. This is Benedict Kingston. I will not be able to attend."

"Obviously, seeing how it's almost over."

"I just got the invitation today. The producer and director are not allowing me to leave. If only I had gotten the invite a few days earlier, I definitely would have been there."
"Then it's a shame. If only we had a time machine," she snapped.

"Would it be possible for me to come and visit her personally?"

"Sorry no. The doctors are moving her to a secluded area of the hospital tomorrow. Today was the last day for visitors."

"How about I talk to her over the phone?"

"No. She will be completely isolated. Not even my father and I will be able to talk with her," she said, hatred dripping her words, "Goodbye, Mr. Kingston."

She hung up. Benedict sighed deeply. He tossed his mobile on the bed, where it bounced onto the floor and ruffled his light ginger curls in frustration. Realising that he barely knew anything about Rebecca, Benedict got out his laptop and began to do a little research. About 20 minutes later, a knock interrupted his concentration.

"Mr. Kingston, you're required on Stage 10," yelled a muffled voice.

Benedict grabbed his phone from the floor and made his for the stage.

The nerve of that man. How could he do that to Rebecca? Best not to tell her. Christine thought as she slipped her phone into the back right pocket of her jeans and made her way back to her sister's room.

Mr. Colle was putting on his coat as he said his goodbyes to Rebecca. The other guests had already left, but he insisted that he wanted to spend a little more time with Rebecca. He was a simple man with a rather big nose and chin, brown eyes framed by dark rimmed square glasses, somewhat fit, tall, and had dark brown hair. Mr. Colle shook Rebecca's weak hand, saying how honoured he was to meet her, and bid her and Christine a final farewell. As soon as he had left, Christine closed the door and turned to face her sister.

Rebecca was a very pale, lanky girl with frail red hair, thinned from the endless treatments, which in the end, had made her weaker than the actual disease. Her light grey eyes had dark circles underneath them from sleepless nights she started to have. Whenever she would now smile, there was a pained expression hidden behind her happy one. Christine always tried to remember when Rebecca's smile once had true happiness, but never could seem to remember.

Rebecca's inquisitive eyes followed her sister as she sat down on the couch covered in blankets and pillows across from her bed.

"Could I call dad?" Rebecca asked, wincing at the weakness overpowering her voice.

"Sure," Christine said as she got up from the couch, handing Rebecca her cell phone.

"May I speak in private?" Rebecca asked.

This caught Christine off guard. Rebecca usually had no problem talking to their father in front of her, but Christine left the room, closing the door behind her. After Christine left, Rebecca pressed the button to redial the last number Christine had called; she didn't have any other reason to not believe it was her father. Christine always left the room to talk to their dad, so Rebecca was shocked when a deep, smooth, baritone voice with a light British accent instead of her father's gruff bass. It was foreign to her, and yet it sounded vaguely familiar to her.

"Hello?" the voice answered.

"Hi, sorry, is my father there?" Rebecca asked, cursing inwardly at the weakness laced in her voice.

"Not that I know of. May I ask who is speaking?" the voice asked politely.

"My name is Rebecca Bassett. Who is this?"

There was a pause. Rebecca asked if he was still there and when he answered, his voice was full of happiness that it flowed from the phone into Rebecca's room.

"Ms. Bassett, I am Benedict Kingston and I cannot tell you how glad I am that I am speaking with you."

Something sparked in her.

"Mr. Kingston?" Strength found its way back into her voice as she smiled, despite her being completely shocked to be talking to a celebrity such as him.

"Yeah. I am so sorry I could not make it to your meeting."

"Well, maybe this makes up for it," she said.

He laughed lightly and asked the inevitable question, "How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly better. How about you?"

"I'm pretty good. I just wish I was there physically talking with you, however the producer and director don't agree with me."

"When did you get the invitation?"

"Today."

"Ah. That's understandable."

"Really?" Confusion filling his voice.

"Yeah. It's hard to reschedule everything just so it accommodates one person. Actors used to do that where I used to work."

"Where did you work?"

"At this small local theatre backstage as the props manager."

The two continued their conversation over the next few hours. Christine occasionally checked in on her younger sister; she used to never talk this long with their father, or bear the smile from so long ago that was full of pure happiness when speaking to their father.

'Who is she talking to?' she asked herself. Christine continued to think to herself as she walked to the hospital's cafe.

"I'm so glad I got to speak with you, but sadly, I've got to go."

"Thank you for talking with me," Rebecca said.

"I'll try to come and visit you soon."

"I'm looking forward to it. I still don't know why my sister lied to you about that. The doctor's haven't really paid any attention to me since last month."

"She probably doesn't like me because I couldn't come."

"Christine became very protective over me since the doctor told my father 5 months ago."

"It's understandable. Anyway, sorry again for not making it. I will definitely come as soon as I can."

"I look forward to it," Rebecca said, feeling the strength she gained from the conversation diminish.

"Talk to you soon, Rebecca. Goodbye," Benedict said.

"Bye."

Rebecca heard the phone click and placed it on the nightstand next to her bed. The spark had completely vanished as she adjusted herself on the bed. Something twitched in her heart and then it began to race.

As everyone scrambled around her, racing to save her life, Rebecca felt a defibrillator against her chest and then a jolt of electricity flowed through her. Her heart took the electricity and caused it to move faster. She couldn't take it anymore. Rebecca let the pain take over her and her heart began to slow. She felt someone grab hold of her shoulders, screaming at the top of their lungs. Numbness took over her body and with one more faint beat of her heart, Rebecca was gone.