Chapter 1 – Beginnings

18 Months Ago…

It was June 2011, a week before Lauren's twenty-first birthday and she had finished her final exam, after three gruelling years at University in the City of London. She was feeling pleased with herself as early predictions were 1st Grade Honours in all of the taken subjects. Exiting the exam hall she felt accomplished; the exams were easier than she thought, whizzing through the answers with ease. Half-skipping out of the hallway, she noticed an advert pinned on the University student board. The advert was old, half-covered with other posters but showing enough to spark her curiosity. A promise of a new and exciting life. Lauren dialled the number, and answered a series of abstract questions, then was invited to join a day training.

It all happened so quickly, soon after the day she was then offered a place on the paid training induction and whisked off to live in a complex containing self-contained flats and many training rooms. The training was intense, where the head had to rule the heart, and Lauren found came naturally to her.

After six months, while noticing that someone was dropped like the boot camp on X-Factor each week, she finally passed and had her employment placement. Before her, the few that went in were placed in America, Canada, the Dominican Republic, and Cuba. Lauren was both excited and nervous about where she would call her new home. Having never even owned a passport before anywhere would have been exciting. She was secretly hoping it would be Canada, where she believed her father lived. A man she had never met but wanted to one day know who he was. Finally, it was her turn to be called in; she looked at the panel of four who finally gave her destination of Turkey.

Lauren smiled. Better than South London, she thought as she signed the contract.

12th December 2012 - 06:25 am

Kemer, Turkey

Lauren imagined roaming through colourful bazaars and miles of crisp, white beaches. But no, this job required her to sit crammed in hot, stuffy cars and stay inconspicuous. Her day consisted of reporting back on the comings and goings of an up-and-coming celebrity. Lauren already hated her despite never once speaking to her. Her online life didn't reflect her real one, and that knowledge annoyed Lauren. She would watch as she posed in front of decorated shops and then see those photos on her social media accounts. Yet behind those smiles lived a life in solitude, returning back to her hotel room alone. This woman's online posts wrote that she lived her best life, but the reality was that she was a fake, and worse, a bore. The only positive was she, like everyone she watched, had secrets, and those secrets were all that mattered in her line of work. People were not what they appeared.

Lauren's agency assured her that this celebrity was significant and well-connected to important people. And until she was told otherwise, she would gather evidence to expose her and the truth. Grabbing the notebook beside her, she scribbled some more notes and took photos of the person exiting her hotel. The light was turned off in the room she was watching before, her target had probably gone back to sleep.

Lauren shifted in her seat; she was irritable, tired, uncomfortable, and hot. Clicking her neck, releasing tension she could not take anymore, her body cramped and her legs stiff. She desperately needed to stretch, eat something, and get fresh air. The situation worsened an hour ago when her colleague, Mehmet, joined her and insisted on having the car's heaters full blast. Lauren opened the window slightly, but there was no breeze, and her actions caused little effect as the humidity formed a thin line of sweat on her brow. Even though it was winter, the air was humid and thick. In the time she had been there, it had only rained four days.

Mehmet had been watching Lauren, seeing as her face turned sour, "Are you okay?" he asked.

Lauren looked down at her tight blue jeans and a white shirt sticking to her body and puffed out a breath. "It's hot Mehmet. Maybe you don't realise being Turkish. You're undoubtedly used to the heat, and maybe even enjoy being sweaty. But I'm from England, remember where it's cold, and I enjoy not having my clothes stuck to me. I like a good shiver."

"Sorry, I'll turn off the heat." He gave an apologetic half-smile; teeth stained from years of tobacco smoke, he was about to add that she could have said something earlier, but the truth was that she scared him a bit. "You were here all night, yes? Why not go back to your room, and rest for an hour or so. I think she is not waking for a few more hours, but I'll call you if I need you."

Mehmet's broken English was good, far better than when she had first arrived. Lauren looked at him, they spent a lot of time together, and she had been teaching him more words. In return, Mehmet was teaching Lauren patience. Not one of her finest qualities, but one she was forced to learn.

"Okay, I won't be long. I'll change and grab some breakfast." Opening the car door and stopping, realising she snapped earlier, decided to be friendly. Mustering up a smile, she turned to Mehmet, "I'll bring you back something too if you'd like?"

Mehmet beamed a smile, "Please, I'll have a pide with cheese, ayran, and a full chicken. I have already eaten this morning, so it can just be snacking food before having lunch."

Lauren nodded and shut the door behind her. As soon as she was away, she rolled her eyes. Mehmet ate more for his snacks than she ate all day, which explained his giant size. He was short, dark-skinned, and plump with round features and a small patch of hair on the side. When he was not talking about his family, he was eating. On the other hand, Lauren ate healthily and spent all her free time running or hiking. She was disgusted at the amount of processed food Mehmet put into his body. Being athletic paid off; Lauren had a firm, sculptured body. She prided herself on posture and the fact that she was all-natural, from her long blonde hair to her slim, athletic build.

Lauren smiled, strolling down the road, already deciding on a run instead of sleep and could feel her body thanking her already. Pleased at her plan, Lauren walked through the deserted streets, admiring the surrounding mountain ranges of Kemer. It was a beautiful place, especially early in the morning. The roads would be packed loud with tourists rushing off to the local markets or down to the beaches in only a few hours. Lauren walked into a local Dükkan and picked up a cold water bottle from the cooler, resting it on her forehead before handing the cashier a euro coin.

Back outside, she spotted something out of place, her senses telling her to duck, kneeing quickly behind a parked car. Across the road, two men wearing suits and dark glasses were in deep conversation. Lauren's heart raced. She thought she recognised them but needed an unobstructed view to be sure. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she had an idea and snapped pictures of them before ducking back behind the car, zooming in on the image. Lauren smiled; she was right. These were very high-profile people. Lauren could feel her blood pumping; this was her breakthrough and her chance to make it big.

She needed to know what they were saying. She had to get closer. Slowly Lauren crawled between cars and crossed the road, just out of sight, and jumped the fence to the back of the cafe. Creeping inside, managing to get within a few feet, turned on the video on her phone and recorded their conversation. "….the exchange takes place next month. I need the people on this list out on a plane out of Cuba. In return, we let you fly into our borders under the guise of supporting us with our Syrian issues."

Gripping her mouth to stop any noise from coming out, Lauren couldn't believe what she was hearing. The National Security Advisor to the President of the USA was in talks with Turkey's Vice-President in a remote cafe. That alone would raise suspicion, without what she had overheard, a negotiation of sorts to release prisoners from Guantanamo in exchange for lifting flight restrictions. The Agency would love this story; it's precisely the break Lauren had been waiting for. Shifting nearer, continuing to record the rest of their conversation and the names on the list. They were extremely high profile. This story was massive, and Lauren had literally stumbled on it. The story of the decade. Her heart pumped, losing her composure. All training was disappearing as the story overwhelmed her.

Lauren needed to get to a computer quickly, upload her phone files and send them to the office. She felt the excitement, imagining their reaction. In her hast stood abruptly, not seeing the waiter turning the corner until too late. Time slowed as she tried to stop herself from crashing into him, but it was too late as the tray he held flew into the air. All she could do was watch as it fell to the floor. Shattering the glasses and alerting everyone of her presence. A fatal mistake. Looking over her shoulder to see the two men jumping to their feet and another man, dressed in a black suit, staring at her. Security, Lauren knew the tell-tale sign of a wire sticking out from his jacket to his ear.

They were all caught in a stand-off with no one moving or saying anything.

The waiter had left, something Lauren wished she had done sooner. Lauren followed the security man's gaze to the phone that was clutched in her hand. 'Shit', she mumbled under her breath. The next thing Lauren saw was him reaching into his jacket and catching sight of a Glock 45 automatic gun. Desperate to get away, she ran, scrambling over the wall.

The sound of gunfire could be heard, and in mid-air, she felt a sharp pain in her side before tumbling to the ground. Picking herself up, she ran down the street and over another fence, then another and through someone's villa. She ran down the back roads of Kemer. Lauren was still being followed, but she knew the area well and lost him in the busy market. Running through the stalls and across the street, she was back at her apartment.

Lauren grabbed her duffle bag and whatever could be thrown in it. Looking around the small apartment, Lauren sighed. She would only pack what she could carry. There was not much to take anyway; the walls were bare, and the furniture was part of the rental. The only thing personal was a Tequila bottle and shot glass set she bought as a Christmas gift for when she returned home, which should have been the next week. Tearing open the box, Lauren unscrewed the tequila and poured it onto her bleeding wound. The alcohol stung, but she knew it would help sterilise it. Another large gulp before pouring more, then a bandage and tape. A change of clothes later fled outside to her car parked in a nearby side alleyway. Lauren wasn't sure where she would go, only that she needed to get away unnoticed. As she turned the corner into the alley, she was stopped in her tracks.

The man had found her. He had red marks on his face and a cut to his lip. More so, he looked angry. Lauren clutched the phone in her hand, knowing that no matter what, she would not give it up, to anyone, for anyone. -

12th December 2012 – 01:00 am

Marriott Hotel & Residence Suites - Toronto, Canada

Bo never enjoyed winter, especially winter in Toronto, it was bitterly cold, and she hated being cold. At least it meant she had the chance to wear many layers of her favourite clothes, loving the fact that designers simply gave their collection to her. She was happy with her choice of a long-sleeved, floor-length sweater dress by Maram and an oversized mink fur coat sprung over her bar stool.

Bo was in the hotel bar. A familiar place to her, she had grown up in hotels moving from location to location throughout her twenty-two years of life. This hotel was rather cosy, the corner had an open fire, and she sat near enough to feel the warmth. The T.V. was on in the background on the News channel. Reports of a car bomb that had exploded, killing six people in Damascus, Syria. Bo turned her back to it, blocking it out. After all, it wasn't her problem. In the opposite corner, a family were playing card games. They were blocking out the news too. No one was watching except a diligent barkeep who had been polishing his glasses for the past ten minutes.

Bo hated this time of the year, the songs about going home for Christmas or families sitting around a tree being together. Bo's only family was her mother, not the most loving woman in the world. At the tender age of five, her mother told her that Christmas was just a commercial business and Santa wasn't real. The only good thing about the season was the work it gave to the actors. Her mother, an actress notable in many stage shows and theatre productions, never stopped touring even when she was pregnant or when Bo was born. Unsurprisingly Bo was pushed into child acting at a very young age, and now both with busy careers accepted visits were few and far between.

Bo sipped on her brandy, her favourite drink; she loved the burn as it flowed down her throat. It gave her warmth. Not wanting too many as she had a plane to catch early the next day. Bo relaxed in the silence. Every day she was surrounded by noise. Everywhere she went, people wanted to talk to her, tell her how much she was loved or how the parts she played on T.V. changed their lives. Her crew were always with her, complimenting her, laughing with her. However, each night as the clock struck ten, they all left. As if a claxon went off and their duties were served. Bo knew they were fake friends, but they were all that she had. Bo played with her phone in her hands. She had twenty-seven thousand followers on social media, yet she was utterly alone every night. Bo knew that all she needed to do for attention was post an Instagram picture of her, even if that was just a picture of her foot. Then literally, thousands of replies would return, full of admiration for her and her work. Tonight, however, Bo wanted company or even someone to enjoy the silence with.

Bo was single. Her last relationship had ended three months ago. Although it had been her that ended things, she was still trying to piece it back together. Trying to figure out the whys of how it had ended so badly, adamant not to make the same mistakes again. So far on her list, she decided never to sleep with anyone she worked with, or anyone in the T.V. industry or more than twenty years her senior. All three made up her past lover. A turbulent love affair that was on and off since she was eighteen years old. Bo thought they were in love, but she was cheated on repeatedly. Eventually, Bo realised that being together was a terrible mistake and ended it. She was tired of being cheated on, finishing it, and getting back together only to be lied to or cheated on again; a circle of sex, lies and cheating. It was over for good this time, and a promise was made never again to trust a liar.

Dating was impossible under her circumstances. Being a celebrity was hard enough, but being a closeted gay celebrity was near impossible. Bo knew she was gay from an early age but did her best to keep her private life from the public. Besides that, the straight community date to see whether they want to have sex, while the gay community has sex, and then sees if they're going to date. It was all too complicated for her. She just wanted a girl who wanted to be with her for her, and not the circus that followed.

All her dates were carefully selected by her management team, and mainly blonde. These dates were prearranged and vetted, including the venue, menu, and hotel they would go to afterwards.

Bo had never had a one-night stand or slept with a man. She never felt the need to try new things; she knew what she liked and, more importantly, what was important to her. Learning from an early age not to give yourself to another so quickly. She watched as her mother gave up everything for her latest lover, including her daughter. Despite this, they never stayed. Bo knew then that people didn't stay for sex alone; a connection was needed for relationships to work. Bo had values, never sleeping with someone on the first date; she had a third date rule. This helped filter out her bad dates from those who only wanted to mark Bo on their bedpost. Bo would know by the second date if the third date with a hotel would be arranged or if her team would need to find another date for her instead. Bo never contacted anyone directly.

Bo was just about to retire to her room when a beautiful stranger walked into the bar. Bo felt her pulse instantly beat faster. She licked her lips and took the length of her. The figure-hugging blue, strapless dress hugged her curves, the heels elongated her long legs, and her breasts sat perfectly on top of the dress. And best of all, she was a blonde. Bo preferred blondes, feeling it complimented her own brunette hair. Bo's natural hair was a darker brown. However, the show's producers thought it made her look sinister, so she was made to dye it lighter every few weeks. The T.V. producers of her show never liked her dark hair, and said it made her look menacing. Bo loved it, along with her dark eyes and olive skin. The best thing she got from her absent father was that he was Cypriot Greek.

The stranger strolled over to Bo and smiled a broad smile that reached her eyes. "Hi," she said, full of confidence.

"Hi", Bo replied, voice shaky. Not as confident as her new friend.

"Are you alone?" she asked, pointing to the vacant seat.

"Not anymore," Bo grinned and patted the stool beside her.

Bo knew that she shouldn't be flirting with this stranger. What if the stranger was just friendly? Or a fan of her show? Or merely waiting for her date to arrive? It was a dangerous game. More so for Bo, as a closet lesbian and with her celebrity status, discretion was a must.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The blonde placed her hand on Bo's leg, and any of Bo's doubts about her intentions disappeared.

A few drinks later, it wasn't long before Bo found herself in the room with the blonde, kissing her neck and undressing her. After a few glasses of wine, a bit of small talk and even she was surprised when the blonde asked her back to her suite for a private drink. The wine was corked but not drank, and soon her dress lay discarded on the floor. "Do. You. Want. To. Slow. Down?" Bo asked between kisses.

The blonde just eyed her up and down, took her hand and led her toward the bed and pushed Bo back onto it. Mounting her, "No, Bo Dennis, you came to my room for exactly this."

Bo found it strange that she was using her full name and felt too eager. Her inner voice screamed at her to stop. However, her libido had sped up, not allowing her to voice those words. It was as if all her horny thoughts were piled up and jammed like paper in a printer, and someone had pressed go, and it was about to explode. The blonde woman was a fantasy coming true and turned her on so much. Bo tried to relax, but this was so out of character. Her nerves were getting the better of her.

Bo had rules and values and she began to panic. "Erm, we need to slow down; what's the rush?"

Bo's new sexual conquest was spirited and didn't answer, responding only by moving lower down the bed, kissing down Bo's abdomen along the way and unfastening her bra. Bo rubbed her head. What she said fell on deaf ears, and this once, Bo decided to just go with the flow. It wasn't like she wasn't attracted to her, and her libido was already heated up. Wet kisses fell on Bo's side, sliding lower, her leg was pulled aside, kissing her inner thigh. Bo closed her eyes. She felt hot breath on her, and all other thoughts were cast aside. Bo elected to live in the present more, and this was undoubtedly present. At that moment, everything stopped. Bo heard other voices in the room. Opening her eyes, she screamed, she couldn't believe what was happening.

"Get out."