My dad was just a regular Uber driver until he picked up Caleb Vance, the biggest pop star in the world. Because of a traffic jam in downtown LA, my dad took a detour to save time. Caleb accused him of trying to rip him off and beat him senseless on the side of the road. My dad didn't fight back. He didn't say a word. But that wasn't enough for Caleb. Later that night, Caleb sent hitmen to our house. They burned it to the ground with us inside. I died in that fire, screaming. But when I opened my eyes, I was back. I had been reborn. Staring at the face of the superstar on every billboard, I made a vow: I will make him pay. 1 I jolted awake to the sound of chatter. I looked around. My living room. My mom, dad, and little sister were all there, alive and well. I started shaking uncontrollably. I pinched my arm hard. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes, but it confirmed the impossible. I was back. In my past life, my dad picked up Caleb Vance. A detour led to an accusation, a beating, and then a massacre. Caleb hired men to kill us and torch our home to cover his tracks. I remembered the three stab wounds in my stomach. I remembered the heat of the flames licking my skin as I died. The TV was playing a commercial. Caleb Vance’s perfect face filled the screen. My eyes went red. He was the "King of Pop," the idol of millions. And he was the monster who murdered my family. My dad was a good man. He had a 5-star rating on the app. He never hurt anyone. And he died for it. Four lives. I would make Caleb pay in blood. "Sarah? Are you okay?" My sister, Mia, walked over, looking concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost." It seemed I was the only one who remembered. I had to protect them. I shook my head. "I'm fine. Hey, aren't you going to visit that film set tomorrow? Is Caleb Vance going to be there?" Mia’s eyes lit up. "Oh my god, you're finally interested? But let me tell you, sis... Caleb is trash. Don't waste your time on him." 2 "He's famous, but everyone knows he's a nightmare on set," Mia whispered, leaning in. "He treats the crew like slaves. Honestly, stick to stanning Leo. He's an angel." Mia was a hardcore fangirl. If she said Caleb was trash, the rumors were worse than I thought. I pretended to listen as she gushed about Leo, but my mind was racing. I needed to get close to Caleb. I needed evidence. The next morning, I woke up at 3 AM. Mia dragged me out of bed. "Fangirling requires dedication, Sarah!" We arrived at the hotel where the stars were getting their makeup done. A crowd was already there, parting like the Red Sea for the VIPs. I spent the morning infiltrating Caleb’s fan groups. I played the part of the eager new fan perfectly. By noon, I was in three group chats and had the scoop on his schedule. But Caleb never showed up. He had a 5 AM call time. It was now 10 AM. The fans were getting restless. "He's skipping again?" one girl muttered. "Classic Caleb." I realized this was my chance. 3 The fan network was terrifyingly efficient. Within minutes, they found him. "He's at The Velvet Rope," someone texted. "He's clubbing." The horde of fans started moving. I told Mia I was going home, then hailed a cab to the club. I wasn't going as a fan. I was going as a spy. I slipped into the club, paid a waitress $200 to borrow her uniform, and grabbed a tray of drinks. I found Room 2230 in the VIP section. My heart hammered against my ribs. Inside, Caleb Vance was lounging on a sofa, surrounded by scantily clad women. But what caught my eye was the man on the floor. He was curled into a ball, his face a bloody pulp. Caleb’s designer boot was pressed onto the man’s neck. "You think you tell me when to work?" Caleb sneered, pouring a bottle of champagne over the man's head. "You're nothing. You're a dog." He ground his heel into the man's cheek. The man whimpered but didn't dare scream. It was his assistant. 4 I gripped the tray, my knuckles white. I had my phone in my apron pocket, camera lens peeking out, recording everything. Maybe I stared too long. Caleb looked up. His eyes locked onto me. He stood up and walked over, swaying slightly. He smelled of expensive cologne and stale alcohol. He grabbed my chin, his eyes raking over my body with disgusting entitlement. "Nice rack," he slurred. "You're staying with me tonight." I didn't think. I slapped him. The sound echoed in the silent room. Caleb froze. The room went dead still. I turned to run, but he grabbed my hair and yanked me back. "You bitch!" he screamed. "You think you can touch me? I'm going to kill you!" He threw me onto the sofa. His hands were everywhere, tearing at my uniform. The other men in the room laughed and cheered. "Get her, Caleb!" I grabbed a glass bottle from the table and smashed it against the wall. I held the jagged neck out. "Touch me and I'll cut your throat!" Caleb laughed. "Feisty. I like it." Just as he lunged, the door burst open. A tidal wave of screaming girls flooded the room. "Caleb!" "Oh my god!" Hundreds of phone cameras flashed. I had dropped the location in the fan group chat the moment I found him. 5 Caleb scrambled back, trying to cover his face. "Get out!" he roared. "Get the hell out! You crazy bitches!" The fans were horrified. They saw their idol, drunk, assaulting a waitress, with a beaten man on the floor. "He's a monster!" one girl screamed, dropping her sign. Chaos erupted. In the confusion, I slipped out the back door. I had the video. I had the witness. I went home, shaking. It was 1 AM. Mia was waiting in the living room. "Where were you?" I showed her the video. She gasped, covering her mouth. "That's... that's Caleb? He tried to...?" "He's sick, Mia. We have to stop him." Mia wanted to call the police. I shook my head. "Attempted assault? He'll be out in two hours with his lawyers. We need to bury him." 6 We sold the footage to TMZ and sent anonymous tips to every major gossip site. By morning, Caleb Vance was trending #1 worldwide. #CalebVanceAssault #CalebVanceExposed The video of him beating his assistant went viral. The photos of him attacking me were everywhere. His reputation was in freefall. But I knew it wasn't enough. I tracked down his assistant, Sam, in the hospital. He was wrapped in bandages, terrified. "I can't talk," he whispered. "He has my grandma. He said he'd kill her." "We can help," I promised. "But you have to trust the police." We called the cops. Kidnapping was a federal crime. They rescued his grandmother within hours. Sam broke down and gave a full statement. Things were looking good. Until my phone rang. "Sarah?" Mia’s voice was trembling. "Dad... Dad's in the hospital. Someone beat him up." 7 My blood ran cold. It was happening again. I rushed to the ER. My dad was unconscious, beaten badly. "Where's the car?" I asked Mia. "The dashcam." "It's still on the highway," she said. I left them at the hospital and took a cab to the scene. I found the taxi on the side of the road. Three men were prying the doors open. "Hey!" I shouted. They turned. They held tire irons and crowbars. "Well look at that," one of them sneered. "The daughter. We were paid to finish the job." They walked toward me. I ran. I ran onto the highway, waving my arms. "Help! Help!" A black SUV swerved to avoid me. The three men were closing in. One threw a wrench; it hit my shoulder, numbing my arm. I fell. They stood over me, raising their weapons. SCREECH. The black SUV reversed at high speed, slamming into the guardrail between me and the killers. Four huge men jumped out. The killers took one look at them and ran.
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