As Catherine sank into the worn sofa, the faint scent of coffee mingling with the lingering aroma of last night's takeout, she tried to quell the anxiety bubbling in her chest. Her best friend, Molly, paced the room, her excitement palpable in the air. "You're seriously interviewing him?" Molly asked for the fifth time, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

Catherine exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around the warm mug. "For the last time, yes!” she confirmed, her voice steady despite the flutter in her stomach. "I'm interviewing Phoenix."

"Like THE Phoenix?" Molly pressed, leaning forward, her red hair falling across her face.

Catherine's nose scrunched up in amused annoyance, a familiar gesture that Molly knew all too well. "No, Phoenix and the Beanstalk... yes, THE Phoenix."

"Seriously?" Molly stared at her, eyes wide with wonder.

"Seriously," Catherine replied, meeting her gaze.

Molly shook her head, amazement written across her features. "I just don't understand how you can be so calm. I don't understand why you aren't totally freaking out right now."

"Because he's just a person? Just like anyone else?" Catherine responded, but even as the words left her lips, a part of her wondered if that was true. There was something about Phoenix, something that set him apart from other celebrities she'd interviewed. It wasn't just his fame or his looks, but something... otherworldly.

"Except he's not like anyone else! He's the most famous rock star on earth!" Molly exclaimed, her voice tinged with exasperation and awe. The air in the room seemed to crackle with her excitement, reminding Catherine of the energy at a Phoenix concert.

"I'm sorry, Catherine, I know I sound like a broken record, but it just seems surreal—like a dream or something. Phoenix hasn't done an interview in forever. Do you know how rare this is? That someone gets to be this close to him? I wonder what he smells like…."

Catherine looked at her with mild concern. "Uh, I’d hope he smells like his signature fragrance, or that’s terrible marketing…."

Molly flopped onto the couch beside her with a loud sigh. "I bet his sweat tastes like candy," she said dreamily, looking at Catherine with hopeful eyes. "Do you think you could find out?"

"Uh, umm… I don't think I'm allowed to lick him during an interview," Catherine replied, scrunching her nose, trying to shake off the unsettling image Molly's words conjured.

"What about beforehand?" Molly asked, her tone eerily serious.

Catherine stared at her, clearly indicating a firm "no" with her expression, a chill running through her at the thought.

"Afterward?"

"Molly, this is serious," Catherine started to say, feeling the weight of the opportunity—and its potential dangers—settling on her shoulders.

"I wasn't joking," Molly mumbled, her eyes flickering with an intensity that made Catherine uneasy.

"Please, Molly, this is a big deal," Catherine pleaded, trying to ground both herself and her friend in reality, even as doubts about what that reality truly was began to creep into her mind.

"I bloody know that!" Molly exclaimed, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and reverence. "It's Phoenix freaking Astar! He's like the most famous rock star ever. Not to mention how hot he is! His devil-may-care smile is totally swoon-worthy!"

"Yes, he’s… a big deal, I’m not denying that." Catherine wasn't going to argue about the "hot" comment. Even in her professionalism, she couldn't deny that Phoenix was attractive, with that trademark devilish smirk of his. Despite his humble beginnings, Catherine figured fame had likely changed him. Rumors circulated about him being rude and lashing out at paparazzi, though she knew they often provoked celebrities. She exhaled and looked at Molly, who was so excited that Catherine didn’t want to let her down. "But that’s not what I meant. It’s a big deal for my career, so I need to be professional about it, but I’ll see if I can take you with me, okay? You won’t be able to join the interview, but maybe he’ll meet you afterward and sign something for you. I can’t guarantee it, but I’ll try. Just don’t try to lick him."

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Molly squealed, nearly knocking Catherine backward as she hugged her tightly. "You're the best! I promise I'll behave! Well, mostly," she added with a wink.

As Molly darted off to prepare, Catherine called after her, "I mean it, Molly! No licking!"

"No promises!" Molly's voice echoed from the other room.

Catherine wanted to say her intentions were pure, but honestly, she just needed a break from Molly’s constant questioning. With Molly now focused on getting ready to possibly meet Phoenix, Catherine could finally breathe. She’d interviewed celebrities before, but never someone as high-profile as Phoenix. This could be her big break, and if it went well, it could lead to more opportunities with top-tier celebrities.

Catherine had always dreamed of becoming a renowned journalist, specializing in exposing the hidden truths behind celebrity personas. She had worked tirelessly for years, starting as an intern at a small local newspaper before gradually climbing the ranks to become a respected writer for a mid-tier entertainment magazine. Her articles were known for their insightful analysis and ability to peel back the layers of carefully crafted public images. This interview with Phoenix Astar represented a pivotal moment in her career - a chance to break into the upper echelons of entertainment journalism. If she could uncover something truly newsworthy about the enigmatic rock star, it could catapult her career to new heights, potentially leading to a position at a major publication or even her own column. However, Catherine was determined to maintain her journalistic integrity, refusing to resort to tabloid tactics or sensationalism. She wanted to reveal the real Phoenix Astar to the world, not just another glossy, manufactured image. As she prepared for the interview, Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Phoenix's story than met the eye - a mystery she was determined to unravel.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Later, as Catherine went over her interview questions, she muttered to herself, "No questions were allowed on the subjects of the occult, and nothing about Hannah Moore..." She couldn't help but wonder aloud, "What are you hiding, Phoenix Astar?"

The silence that followed her question seemed heavy with unspoken secrets, and for a moment, Catherine could have sworn she felt a presence in the room, watching, waiting. She shivered, pushing the feeling aside. "Get it together, Catherine," she told herself firmly. "It's just an interview. Nothing more."

But even as she said the words, a part of her wondered if that was true, and what price fame might truly demand.

As Molly fussed over her appearance, Catherine dealt with her own anxiety by cleaning their small city apartment. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that invisible eyes were watching her every move. Molly's mess seemed to have a life of its own, clothes and makeup scattered like offerings to some unseen deity.

"Where is it?!" Molly's voice echoed from the other room, tinged with panic.

"Where's what?" Catherine called back, scrubbing the bathroom sink with an intensity that betrayed her nervousness.

"My good bra!" Molly shouted, her voice cracking with desperation.

"The red one?"

Molly appeared in the doorway, her eyes wild. "No! The leopard print one," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper as if speaking of something forbidden.

Catherine raised an eyebrow, a chill running down her spine. "The push-up? The one for your boobs?"

"Yes!" Molly said, her frantic energy filling the small space.

"You threw it out, remember? It was falling apart."

Molly's face contorted in horror. "No! I thought I fixed it?"

Catherine shook her head, feeling an inexplicable sense of dread. "No, you were drunk and put it in the bin. It was ripped and the strap broke."

Molly's eyes welled up with tears, and for a moment, Catherine could have sworn she saw something dark flicker in their depths. "This is so not happening! That's my good bra. My lucky bra. I picked up Steve Bailey in that bra."

"The jock from high school?"

"Yeah! The super popular one!"

"That was six years ago, Molly. That bra should've been shredded years ago."

As Molly started to cry, Catherine felt a surge of protectiveness. She grabbed her friend's shoulders, steadying her. "Just breathe. You're so much more than a good push-up bra. Besides, Phoenix's an ass man."

"Is he?" Molly sniffled, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah, I think so. And you're beautiful. Naturally beautiful. You don't need all that stuff."

Later, as they continued their preparations, the air in the apartment seemed to thicken with unspoken tension. Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that they were teetering on the edge of something vast and unknowable.

"Shouldn't you be like… preparing?" Molly asked, eyeing Catherine's casual look with concern.

"I am," Catherine replied, her voice steady despite the flutter in her stomach.

"No, like… your look," Molly gestured, frowning.

Catherine frowned back, a sense of unease creeping over her. "What's wrong with my look?"

"Nothing! It's just that your eyebrows are bushy, your legs are hairy, and all your sexy clothes are in the wash."

"Why would I wear sexy clothes? It's a radio interview, Molly. No one will see me."

"Exactly! But he will see you!"

As Catherine reluctantly agreed to wear a suit, she couldn't help but wonder what she was really preparing for. What power did Phoenix truly hold, and what price would they pay for getting close to him?

"But I refuse to shave my legs!" Catherine called out as Molly left the apartment.

Molly's laugh echoed back, "How professional!" The door closed, leaving Catherine alone with her thoughts and the unsettling feeling that tomorrow would change everything.

EDIT - looking for feedback on this section below

Catherine found herself standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, taking in her reflection with a critical eye. The dark blazer and pants created a sharp, polished silhouette, while the crisp white blouse added a touch of elegance. The butterfly-shaped clip in her hair, a last-minute addition at Molly's insistence, added a subtle hint of whimsy to her otherwise professional appearance.

Her brown hair fell in loose waves down her back, the half-up, half-down style framing her face neatly. Catherine studied her reflection in the full-length mirror, taking in every detail of her appearance. Her brown hair, neither particularly lustrous nor dull, fell in loose waves down her back, styled in a practical half-up, half-down look that framed her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes, a shade that reminded her of faded denim, looked back at her with a mix of determination and apprehension.

She noted the gentle lines around her eyes, testament to both laughter and late nights poring over articles. Her nose, which she'd always thought was a touch too small for her face, crinkled slightly as she scrutinized her appearance. Her lips, a natural pale pink, were pressed together in concentration.

The dark suit she'd chosen fit well, creating a sharp, professional silhouette. The crisp white blouse added a touch of contrast, peeking out from beneath the blazer. The butterfly-shaped clip, a whimsical addition that felt almost out of place in her serious attire, glinted in her hair.

Catherine knew she wasn't striking in the conventional sense. She was the type of person one might pass on the street without a second glance – not unattractive, but decidedly ordinary. Yet, in her fitted suit and with her determined expression, she exuded an air of quiet competence.

As she adjusted her blazer one final time, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle, Catherine wondered if her understated appearance would serve as an asset or a hindrance when face-to-face with someone as extraordinary as Phoenix Astar. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the mirror, her practical pumps clicking softly on the floor as she steeled herself for the interview ahead.

The weight of the opportunity – and its potential dangers – settled on her shoulders as she left the room.