Page 1 of Stolen Omega

Chapter One

Zelena

The crowd is still cheering wildly when I take my final bow and the curtain falls on my captivated audience of thousands. My hands don’t start to shake until I’m releasing the mic onto its stand, reluctantly letting go of another night on stage.

I’m tired, sure, but I’m also energized by my fans and their enthusiasm. They aren’t done chanting out there, calling for another encore, pleading for me to come back and sing another song for them, to bare another glimpse of my soul.

Climbing back down from the heights of a performance always makes my head spin.

How did I get up so high, anyway? How is it possible to feel this euphoric?

I know the answer, really, but I can never truly believe how good it feels to bring out so much excitement and happiness in a vast crowd of people. As an empath, it’s impossible not to get swept up in that warm tidal wave of positive energy.

Performing has always been my drug of choice. There’s nothing else like it.

At least, nothing else I’ve ever experienced.

I’m still soaring as I remove my earpiece and pass it to my personal assistant.

Anna’s been by my side for five years, ever since my career evolved to include touring. She’s always there to help tug me back down to earth after a show.

Despite having so much time to get to know each other, the poised brunette with the no-nonsense attitude has always been too professional to strike up a friendship with. All I know about her is that she’s dangerously close to being on the wrong side of thirty, and she always ignores calls from her mother. She’s so used to catering to my needs now that we barely have to talk to each other anymore, which seems to be how she prefers to work.

She holds out a hand for my heels, a wry smile on her face as I slip out of the glittery six-inch heeled death traps that I somehow managed to walk around in while I was performing.

Sighing, I pass over the shoes, starting to feel like Cinderella after the ball.

Tonight was wonderful, but I’m about to be delivered back to reality.

Oh, well. I can never walk in the damn things for long when I’m not on stage.

I flex my toes a little before I follow Anna back to my dressing room.

She unlocks the door and hits the lights, moving inside and holding the door open.

The mirrored wall across from us is the first thing I see when I step inside.

She’s already closing the door and locking it while I examine my reflection.

My stage outfit is over-the-top, but undeniably stunning.

The silver and purple sequins sparkle like diamonds.

I barely recognize myself in the mirror. With my hair and makeup done to complement the half-dozen outfit changes I went through tonight, and the body-hugging, imperfection-swallowing corset I ended the night wearing, I look like a star.

I don’t look like a girl who has nothing.

Yet, that’s who I am at the end of the day.

On stage, I shine. That’s when I feel most alive.

When the lights go out, I’m alone.

My life is empty.

Singing is all I have, and it might be all I ever have.

If I want something more, I’m going to have to be brave.

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