Fallin' for the Fame - Chapter 9
This is the real Indigo, and she does not play.
Previously: Sam left her old life behind for a fresh start in L.A. But working for Indigo Taylor proved harder than she imagined. As she gets closer to Legend Blake, she’s torn between her job and her growing feelings, unsure how much she’s willing to endure for a shot at something real.
9
The interview’s in full swing when I slip quietly into the back of the room, careful not to disturb the scene. Indigo’s had me running through her chaotic schedule all morning, managing calls and answering emails. It’s only been a couple hours, but I feel like I’ve already earned my paycheck today.
Indigo’s perched on her camelback sofa, looking like a different person. The woman I’ve seen ripping through the mansion like a tornado is nowhere to be found. Instead, there’s a softer, more polished version of her—elegant, collected. The lights gleam off her sleek black dress, and her platinum curls fall perfectly around her shoulders.
She’s chatting with—Gasp! It’s Nina Banks!
I’ve been following Nina for years. She was a top amateur investigative journalist on YouTube before she got picked up by The Spotlight Report, the nationally televised entertainment show. She didn’t even have a degree, but she uncovered some of the wildest celebrity scandals in LA, from exposing a pop star’s secret marriage to breaking the news of a notorious actor’s cheating scandal during a live award show. She’s young, Black, and absolutely gorgeous, with sharp eyes and a ruby red bob that’s as iconic as her fearless interviews. Every time I see her drop a bombshell on someone, I can’t help but admire her hustle. I’m just hoping I can get through this and sneak in a selfie with her without Indigo flipping out.
Kelly gives me a quick, silent wave from the edge of the living room, just out of camera view. She’s standing in the shadows, guiding Indigo, giving subtle instructions with nothing more than a shift of her head.
“So, Indigo,” Nina’s voice lilts, smooth as silk, “You’ve been through a lot in the public eye. But you seem to be in a better place these days. How have you been handling the ups and downs of fame?”
Indigo smiles softly, almost like she’s trying to forget the world around her. She seems so genuine, it’s easy to believe she’s America’s sweetheart. “You know, it’s not easy. But at the end of the day, I’ve learned to protect my peace. Surrounding myself with the right people has made all the difference.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. She’s so full of it. But damn, I can’t deny how convincing she sounds. She must’ve reviewed these questions with Kelly a dozen times.
Nina exchanges a brief glance with her producer beside the cameraman, the mood in the room tightening. Kelly sees them too. She unfolds her arms, pinning them with a hard stare that says they better not try anything funny.
But Nina’s not paying attention.
“So, you know all of us was eating up your relationship with Legend Blake. Y’all were total relationship goals!” Nina says, her tone playful. “Not that long ago, you two seemed inseparable. Is there anything he could do to maybe… get you to give him another shot?”
I lean forward, intrigued. I’d love to have a juicy tidbit to finally take back to Legend—something that won’t come between us, of course.
But the mention of his name turns Indigo’s entire posture rigid. Her smile fades as quickly as it appeared, and for a second, she looks like she’s going to break. I almost feel bad for her—until she jerks to her feet.
“Get out.” Her eyes narrow, her glare sharp enough to cut glass.
Kelly inches forward, her hands held up in a quiet plea for calm. But indigo doesn’t care.
“I said… Get. Out.”
Nina blinks, clearly caught off guard by the harshness. She looks around—to her producer, to Kelly, even me for help—but we’re all at a loss. “Indigo, I—I just thought—”
“No.” Indigo interrupts, her tone icy. “You were told. No questions about Legend.”
The entire room freezes. Nina’s face hardens, the confidence in her expression faltering just slightly. But Indigo’s already up, striding toward the door like she’s just wrapped up a perfect day at the spa. Nina scrambles to follow, stammering a final apology, but it’s no use. Indigo’s made her decision.
Kelly’s hands fly up in a gesture of helplessness as she calls after her. "Indigo, wait!" She trails after Indigo, her heels clicking on the floor as she follows her out of the room.
I don’t even know if I feel bad for Nina, but I sure as hell feel the weight of the tension in the room as the crew whispers.
This is the real Indigo, and she does not play.
From then on, it’s another day of Indigo-induced torture. She’s got me prepping her meals, scheduling appointments, and—because she clearly enjoys watching me suffer—standing in as her Jiu-Jitsu partner.
I don’t know a thing about Jiu-Jitsu, but that doesn’t stop Indigo from flipping me like a ragdoll. The mat and I become close, intimate friends as she hip-tosses me, arm-drags me, and somehow folds me into a position that defies basic human anatomy.
At the end of it all, I find myself sprawled across the floor, staring at the ceiling, questioning my life choices. My back is screaming, my limbs are noodles, and Indigo? She’s scrolling through her phone like she just wrapped up a light yoga session.
A while later, I’m collapsed on the camelback sofa, gingerly stretching my sore limbs, as she struts toward the door—freshly changed and effortlessly put together. She gives me a once-over, wrinkling her nose as she passes. “I’m out. Tomorrow, do better.”
Wait. She’s letting me go early?
The door clicks shut behind her, and I make a wobbly escape for my things.
Legend Blake lives in a mansion on a hill—No, literally, he lives in a mansion on a frickin’ hill. The place is part cruise ship, part private jet, and so far above the city it might as well have its own zip code. Up here, privacy isn’t a concern—it’s a given. When he heard I was off early, he invited me over to catch up.
The second I step inside, he pulls me into a heartfelt squeeze, the scent of his cologne, warm and addictive. Without hesitation, I inhale all I can, refueling for the week.
“You’re more gorgeous every time I see you,” he says.
I shove his shoulder, giggling like a teenager. “Stop!” But I totally want him to go on.
Just behind him is an open floor plan the size of a gymnasium. On one end sits a theater-sized TV with white lounge sofas big enough to seat a wedding party. On the other is a modern kitchen with a lengthy breakfast bar. A stark white staircase branches off the center of the gigantic living space, while panoramic windows and glass doors frame a breathtaking view of the Hollywood Hills. Seriously—not a single curtain on the first floor.
At the bar, two guys and a girl sip drinks, their conversation fading as they note my arrival. Legend takes me by the hand—He takes me by the hand!—and leads me over for introductions. The bulky guy is his homeboy, Hunter, the short guy in the baseball cap is his assistant, Cam, and the curvy girl with the long black hair and flawless mocha skin is his stylist, Jackie. “They’re my entourage,” says Legend with a smile.
“Man, whatever,” says Hunter, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “I don’t get paid to babysit your ass!” Hunter socks him in the arm, and Legend winces at me.
“You see how hard it is to find good help these days?” Everyone laughs as Legend rubs his shoulder with a pout.
He leads me through the rest of the house, and while he insists it’s only two stories, with the pool and basketball court, it feels like three. Five bedrooms, six bathrooms, bordered by terrace walkways on every floor. Downstairs, we pass a billiard room with a pool table and bar. He gestures to a door across the hall. “And here’s where the magic happens.”
Legend throws his arms out wide as we step inside the studio. He spins in the open space between his grand piano and vocal booth window. “Welcome to the heart of it all.”
It’s like I’m on one of those old episodes of MTV Cribs.
I’m simultaneously awestruck and a little overwhelmed to finally see how Legend lives. Being this close to him, in a space that’s clearly his sanctuary, is almost surreal. Does he really trust me that much?
I run my fingers along the acoustic panels of the recording booth, glancing at the headphones hanging on the wall. “Wow. If I had a setup like this, I bet I’d make beautiful music too—and I can’t sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in key.” I chuckle at my own lame joke, but I stop when I notice Legend watching me with a quiet intensity—the way parents do when their kids open that one special gift on Christmas morning.
“It’s real cool finally sharing this with you,” he says.
My cheeks flush, and I quickly drop my head, trying to hide the warmth spreading across my face. I lean against the wall, just in case my knees decide to betray me again.
Legend takes a seat at the piano and begins to play, his fingers gliding across the keys like a baker’s hands kneading dough. Notes bloom from the piano strings, rich and smooth, making my pulse quicken.
He begins to sing, his voice a soft, irresistible drawl that curls around me like a warm ocean current.
“How about you and me?
Can you think of us together?
Baby, it’s chemistry…
Honey, you and me together...”
It’s his hit song, “Us Together”. I exhale a breathless sigh, my heart lifting and tumbling with every note. His voice is velvet, wrapping around me, making it impossible to think of anything but him. Our eyes meet, and a quiet smile tugs at his lips.
He knows that this is my favorite song.
He continues to play and sing, presenting a little concert, just for me. The melody swirls around us as I sway to the rhythm, wondering if at some point I fell and hit my head. ’Cause there’s no way this is reality.
Then he stops. He extends a hand, a clear invitation in his gaze. I bite my lip, stepping forward, and with a gentle tug, he draws me closer, pulling me beside him on the bench.
Inhale. Exhale. He smells so unbelievably good—refreshing almost… and dangerously addictive.
His fingers return to their natural rhythm, stroking the keys with ease, as he plays a slower, unfamiliar melody.
“Honey, you’re… just right.
You make me higher than… a kite.
When I think of you… at night.
I don’t wanna stop. Baby, I can’t stop…”
It’s gentle. Sweet. A quiet, aching kind of song. And it’s captivating.
I’ve never heard this before, but I’m already in love with it. His passion for his craft is undeniable. The music feels like it’s spilling from his soul.
Legend holds out the notes, his voice low and smooth as he croons into the air. His eyes are closed, his face tilted back, fully immersed in the melody.
“Baby, you… and I,
you know I need you in… my life.
You got me spinning ’round.
Was lost and now I’m found.
And in time… I’mma find your light.”
He slows to a stop, opening his eyes to meet mine. His gaze is burning with something deeper, something that reaches straight to my heart. A charming grin lifts his lips, but it’s softer, sweeter than I’ve seen before. “What do you think?”
“I think… it’s beautiful,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, a shadow passing over his face, as he refocuses on the keys. “I wrote it for Indigo… Never got a chance to let her hear it though.”
The words hang heavy between us, the air suddenly thick. My heart gives an unexpected thud as I swallow.
“Maybe soon she will,” I say softly.
Legend offers a weak smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “How’d the job go today?”
“Well… I learned a little Jiu-Jitsu.”
He chuckles. “She’s still into that, huh?”
I rub the crook in my neck. “Very much so.”
Legend’s eyes sparkle and dance, almost the way they did when he was singing just now. “She giving you a hard time?”
Up until now, I’ve been biting my tongue, but maybe this is a good time to let him know just how awful his sweet princess can be. “Let’s just say she has some… high standards.”
Legend scratches his nose, amused. “Yeah. I could see that.”
“I mean, she’s impatient, she’s rude. L, she insists that her bath water be ‘precisely 102 degrees Fahrenheit—or else!’” I realize all too late that I’m imitating Indigo’s whiny little voice.
Thankfully, Legend laughs. “Man, that does sound like her.” He shakes his head with an irresistible smile. “I’m sorry, Sam. I know it’s a lot.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Anything for Legend Blake!”
He laughs again. But I don’t.
“Honestly, L, the girl has a serious wall up.”
“I know,” he says, studying his piano keys. “But don’t give up.” His eyes lift to mine, filled with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. He’s not just encouraging me, he’s pleading.
What’s it gonna take for him see that this girl is all wrong for him?
The only silver lining? For every additional day of torture with Indigo Taylor, I’m one step closer to my fantasy of dating Legend Blake. I just hope that I live to enjoy it.
“Ya know, my boys kept clowning me when I started dating her,” he says, the words dripping with nostalgia. “All the gossip blogs were taking bets on how long it would last.”
I remember. I bet fifty bucks that they wouldn’t make it a month.
I glance at him, taking in his effortless vibe—ripped jeans and a fitted Henley t-shirt that hugs his chest in all the right places. “So how’d you know?”
He arches a brow, looking at me. “How’d I know what?”
“That she was the one for you, when everyone said it wouldn’t work?”
He chuckles to himself. “It seems like we’re total opposites, right?”
That’s an understatement.
Legend stares at the ceiling, thinking. “I remember the night I met her, at the Mending Time premiere. You remember how nervous I was?”
I nod. The movie blew up way more than he expected. The poor guy was a wreck that night.
Legend’s eyes are distant as he reflects. “And then I saw her. Dressed to kill on the red carpet, looking like some sorta glamorous Hollywood statue in that silky white gown. I didn’t care if I shook another exec’s hand that night—she was the only one I wanted to get next to.” His eyes twinkle. “I swear, I could barely put together two sentences that night. But somehow… she was feeling me.”
Legend drops his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—almost the same way I smile when I think of the first time he spoke to me, all those years ago. I guess even Legend Blake gets star-struck sometimes.
“Anyway,” he says. “We got to talking, and we had way more in common than I thought. She knew what it was like to see the dark side of Hollywood. To have agents and fans trying to dictate your every move. It was just… real refreshing to click with someone like that.” He looks my way, reading my mind. “Kinda like when I started talking to you.”
My cheeks burn, a wave of heat rushing through me.
Legend’s gaze drifts back to the piano, his fingers absently tracing the keys. “And then, she told me about the scandal with her dad, and I told her about the scandal with mine.”
How could I forget? Indigo’s dad was caught in a scandalous sex tape with some woman who wasn’t her mom, while Legend’s dad had a whole secret family. Poor Legend didn’t even find out until after he won Lucky Star.
“I mean, this dude went and had three other kids with another chick,” he says, sorrow clouding his handsome brown eyes. “Had ’em set up in a house just a few blocks away. What the hell did he think would happen?”
I get it. We’re not gonna agree with all of our parents’ decisions. When my mom and Trey announced that they were getting married, I must’ve cried for three days. Simone didn’t talk to Mom for a week. I couldn’t imagine trying to handle something like that in the public eye.
“Indigo found out about her dad’s nonsense during a live interview,” says Legend. “Can you believe that? She had to play it off, making some lame PR statement about giving her family privacy at the time. That’s when I knew… she wasn’t all that different from me.”
Usually, when I ask about his family, he changes the subject. Maybe there’s more to this thing with Indigo than I thought.
Seeming to push off the memories, Legend nudges me with an elbow. “What do ya say we head back upstairs and chill with the crew?”
Another evening with Legend Blake? I’d be crazy to turn him down.
Two days later, I’m in Indigo’s shoe closet, waist-deep in Louboutins. “Are you sure you trust me to do this, Miss Indigo? I don’t want to toss anything important.”
She cocks her head as she crosses the dressing room, a stack of sponsored makeup kits in her arms. “I’ll let you know if you screw up.”
I nod and get back to work. There’s a new shipment of designer heels arriving today, and Indigo needs to make room in her closet. Guess who gets the special job of sorting through all her old ones to make room for the new?
I glance back and forth between two nearly identical pairs of heels. One pair to the shelf, the other to the donation box. Only 299 pairs to go,
Against my better judgment, I’ve decided to stick around—if only for a few more precious moments with Legend. But despite his feelings, Indigo is… a lot. She’s obnoxious, self-absorbed, and has a laundry list of demands that could rival any diva on world tour.
I’ve already reached out to Eva and Kelly, but Eva’s out “sick”. And after the Nina-Banks-Interview-Gone-Wrong, Kelly’s got her hands full. I’m still trying to make sense of Indigo’s schedule—not to mention figure out what she does or doesn’t like without help from her or anyone else.
“Here’s your breakfast, Ms. Indigo.”
“Gross! Eggs aren’t plant-based!”
She wrinkled her nose when I presented a delicious-looking vegan pad-thai at lunchtime.
“Ugh! All those carbs! Bring me a cold-pressed green juice.”
How am I supposed to get intel for Legend if I can’t even get the chick to eat? Let alone hold a full conversation…
Now, let’s see pink pumps with crystals or purple with crystals…
Indigo saunters across the room in her jogging pants and bra, humming along to one of her old hits, “Your Kiss”—a love ballad about finding one’s true love.
Since going off on poor Nina, it seems she’s taken Kelly’s advice on laying low and cleaning up her image. She hasn’t been out much. So, when she isn’t busy scrolling through social media—groaning about all the things she wishes she could comment to the “chicks she don’t like”—she fills her time making my life a living hell.
“Remind me to have you go through my social media later,” she says. “I need you to like the posts for all of my sponsors and cast members today.”
“Yes, Miss Indigo.” I need to get down to business. The sooner I get the intel for Legend, the sooner I can get out of this. But how to do so without ending up decapitated?
I casually pick up a glittering pair of Jimmy Choos, examining them with interest. “These are cute… Do you have a favorite pair?”
Indigo stops mid-stroll and purses her lips as she surveys the mountain of shoes. She strides into the closet and grabs a pair of four-inch stilettos. They’re beaded with chandelier-style crystals that snake up glittery ankle straps. With the briefest hesitation, she thrusts them into my arms. “Those. I wore them at the Mending Time film premiere.”
A smile edges on my lips as I set the stilettos on a shelf. Keeping my tone casual, I cast a small glance her way. “That’s where you met Legend Blake, right?”
Indigo stills, staring at me.
Dear God, don’t let her fire me for saying the man’s name.
Thankfully, she gives a stiff nod.
Phew! I’m sure to appear indifferent as I return to sorting. “I always thought you two were the cutest couple.” I pause just long enough to make it seem like an afterthought. “My friends and I were shattered when you two split up… Always wondered what happened, ya know?”
A charged silence lingers between us as she studies my face, her gaze sharp, searching. I hold my breath, keeping my smile light—open, easy. The kind that says, You can trust me.
For a second, I think she might.
Instead, something shifts, a dark cloud creeping into her eyes.
“You and your friends should mind your damn business.”
“Sorry, I was just—”
“Get back to work.”
I bite back a sigh and do as she says. At least I’m still breathing.
I’ve just managed to whittle my pile down to 250 pairs when she asks the time.
“Just past one-thirty,” I say, checking my watch.
She cuts the music and grabs a remote, flipping on the mounted TV in the corner. The Spotlight Report pops up onscreen.
“All of the hottest celebrity gossip and news,” says Nina Banks, a flawless smile on her face. “And wait ‘till you hear what we’ve learned today!”
I used to watch this show all the time between classes. Indigo’s been checking it out every day since the disastrous interview, just to ensure they don’t air it against her wishes.
“Taylor Swift,” says the male announcer. “Will she or won’t she?”
“And the hottest star of Heist in the Hills reveals all of his criminal workout secrets,” Nina adds.
My attention is drawn to the screen as the title of Legend’s movie is announced, and sure enough, there he is—approaching the camera in slow motion with smoldering eyes. His infamous pool scene.
But Indigo… she’s frozen, staring at the TV. She doesn’t blink once, not even a subtle shift of her gaze. I think she’s forgotten how to breathe.
That’s funny… It’s kinda the way I behave whenever I see him.
Indigo doesn’t snap out of her trance until he’s vanished from the screen, her shoulders drooping with a quiet sigh. She turns to me, her expression hard.
“What are you looking at?”
I lower my head and get back to work. Maybe she isn’t quite over Legend after all.
Copyright © 2025 Kimberly R. Vargas. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. No part of this publication may be reproduced without permission from the author.
Author’s Note:
Hey y’all! 💕
Thanks so much for checking out this chapter of Fallin' for the Fame! I hope you’re loving Sam’s journey as much as I’ve loved writing it.
New chapters drop every Wednesday, so be sure to stay tuned! And if you're enjoying the drama, romance, and all the twists in between, don’t keep it to yourself—hit that subscribe button and share with a friend who loves a good love story.
I’ll see you next Wednesday!
Kimberly R. Vargas
Romance Author | Storyteller of Healing & Love
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