Chapter One

If It All Ended Tomorrow

"Yeah, something to shout about...if you're gonna shout, do it good and loud...yeah, give em something to shout about..."

The crowd was going crazy for Lilian Garcia's final encore; her biggest single to date, "Shout", which was climbing the charts like crazy. Not that "You Just Don't Know Me At All" didn't chart well. It had only stayed stuck at number one on the Billboard charts for two months before Mariah Carey came along with her comeback album. And to her, being knocked out of the top spot by Mariah Carey was flattering. Mariah was her idol. She'd been trying to get ahold of Mariah for a duet, but nothing was coming to fruition yet, so that was okay, she knew that eventually they'd get together and make magic.

But lately, Lilian was finding that her popularity was coming at a price. At five foot four, with long blonde hair and brown eyes with a charming smile, she was truly one of the most lovely women in the music business. With a rockish style combined with class, she was a girl emulated by millions around the world...which, Lilian was okay with. She preferred girls looked up to her than girls like the Pussycat Dolls, who she felt were crass and trampy. She had been so stressed out lately; things were happening. Bad things. Her last concert was cancelled because there was talk of a sniper waiting in the wings. They couldn't take the chance, especially with the venue having such low security.

Then the letters came. The burning letters in her dressing room, in her mailbox at home and even while she was onstage, she'd had several thrown her way.

Her dog Punky had been killed, her family was receiving phone calls, and now her team of people were trying to hook her up with a bodyguard, which was the last thing that she wanted. Even her rap star cohort, Rey Mysterio, was slightly worried about her. He was her opening act. He wanted to get his album out there more, and Lilian was happy to oblige. He was a talented individual and he was so sweet. She thought he deserved all the success that came his way. Not to mention, he was a strange one, too, something she enjoyed. Only an inch or two taller than her, he always wore a mask with lucid blue contacts, but he had a voice that told her he was a cutie. And he spoke Spanish, too.

Her last number ended and she waved to the crowd and thanked them for coming out to St. Louis and she went backstage to where her manager, Stephanie Levesque, was waiting, applauding.

"Another fantastic show, Lil," she replied.

"Thanks, Steph," she replied as somebody handed her a towel to wipe the sweat off. "Anything else happen while I was out there?"

"No, security's been scanning the perimeter, but whoever this sick fuck is isn't around tonight," Stephanie replied. "Try to relax, Lil, we'll catch him."

"He called my mom. My mom's not even listed, Steph," she replied, "I want this son of a bitch caught." Stephanie nodded sympathetically.

"Well, we did find you a bodyguard," Stephanie replied.

"The last thing I need is a bodyguard," Lilian replied. "I can imagine the headlines now 'Crazy Bodyguard Beats Hell Out of Child Fan'." Stephanie laughed and Lilian shook her head. "It's not funny!"

"Well, he'll be reporting to your hotel room tonight to keep an eye out for you, so be nice to him, okay?" Stephanie pleaded. Lilian didn't have a diva attitude, thank God, but when Lilian wanted to be, she was incredibly stubborn.

Lilian exhaled. "Okay, Stephanie, I'll be nice. I'm going to get ready to go back to the hotel. See you in a little bit, okay?" She nodded and went down the halls of the arena towards her locker room.

She changed into a pair of black jogging pants and a white T-shirt, throwing her hair in a ponytail before gathering her things and leaving the arena. The rest would be picked up by the team. She couldn't wait to get back to the hotel, where she had visions of a hot bubble bath and a good night's sleep dancing in her head. She got into her limousine and told them to take her to the Sheraton where she would be asleep within the hour...well, that's if the bodyguard didn't show up before hand. She got out of the limo, promising to tear her new bodyguard a new one if he showed up before she went to bed. She got into the elevator and made her way up to her room, before kicking off her shoes, relaxed, and closing the door behind her.

The bubble bath was fantastic, but her mind kept going back to this stalker that had been plaguing her for a few months. It had started in Raleigh, North Carolina, after a show, when a secret admirer had left her flowers. She thought it was so sweet, but she couldn't acknowledge whomever sent them to her. Then, because of her inability to name the admirer, the gifts became more twisted, and attempts on her life were threatened and made. She shuddered, remembering the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade when her A&R guy Kurt Angle (who had since quit and couldn't stop trashing her or her family and friends in the headlines) was shot in the shoulder. Everything was in disarray, and she shook her head, trying to get the images out of her mind. But she couldn't. Fame at a deadly price.

There was a knock on the door. "God damn it," Lilian murmured, realizing her bubble bath had just been ruined by the bodyguard on the other side of the door. Unplugging the tub, she got out and dried off, putting on a long blue nightgown with a matching silk robe. She went to the door as the pounding became more incessant. "Hold on!" she shouted, opening the door.

There before her stood a man standing at six foot one, with brown hair and the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever stared into. He looked too casual to be a bodyguard, dressed in a Roger Clemens New York Yankees baseball jersey and blue jeans, and he was built pretty big. She had to admit, she was a little taken aback. "You the bodyguard?" she inquired.

"Yeah. John Cena," he answered, extending his hand to her. She graciously shook it, giving him a once over, her eyes lingering on the sneakers on his feet. They were definitely unique.

"No suit?"

"Suits don't suit me," he replied, and that prompted a smirk out of Lilian.

"Come on in," she replied. She stepped aside. "I made a bed up on the couch for you in case you can't handle working with no sleep." He chuckled.

"Do I sense a little hostility?" he inquired.

"Aside from the fact that I don't want – or need – a bodyguard, yeah," Lilian answered.

"Oh, a feisty one," he taunted and she threw her glaring brown eyes his way, prompting him to laugh. "Chill, chill. Trust me, in time, you won't be seeing me as a bodyguard."

"Wow. You're arrogant," she replied, "and I'm going to bed." Before he could clarify his statement, she left him in her adjoining suite and shut the doors, leaving John to settle into the couch and watch some Late Night with David Letterman.