---

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the headline on my screen:

 

“Star of Hungry Zombies Vandalizes Gordita Gong”

 

Yesterday had been a wild and crazy day, the type you never forget.  I’d gone in with a group of my friends, fellow students at the performing arts college, to steal a sign from the Gordita Gong drive-thru. 

 

I was voted to do the dirty work while my buddies distracted the customers and employees.  I grabbed the neon sign and ran for the escape vehicle.  Only, a cop car pulled up, spooking my friends.  They jumped back in first, drove off, leaving me there alone to explain myself.

 

Let’s just say, I didn’t have a good explanation.

 

Of course, I was arrested.  And of course, it blew up in my face.

 

As I looked into my own eyes on the screen, I couldn’t help feeling a tinge of pride: I awesome in my homemade zombie get-up. 

 

The green-gray paint of my rotting flesh.

 

The white glazed over eyes (contacts, naturally).

 

Even the gore hangings from my chin looked particularly show biz worthy.  I looked like something my character would kill in my show.

 

There came a sudden knock at my door.

 

I hopped out of my chair, eager to get away from the internet’s scorn.  There was a UPS guy at the door with a package for me.  Fan mail, probably.

 

 As I took the board from him to sign for the package, he said, “You probably get this a lot but… You’re that Adam Stone, right?”

 

“Hungry Zombies, yep.”  I was unsure where this was headed.  Did he want an autograph, or to kidnap me?

 

The guy smiled, which eased my nerves.  He said, “I just heard about you on the radio.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

I was on the radio?  For god sakes, did the media have nothing better to talk about this week?   Couldn’t they talk about North Korea plotting to make nukes or some politician saying something stupid?

 

Guess not.

 

The UPS guy said, “Everyone has their moments, man.  Getting arrested isn’t a big deal.  I’ve got a kid around your age, off at college.  I tell him the same thing.”

 

“Oh, that’s good,” I said unsure how to respond.

 

I thought back to the experience I had in the jail and disagreed.  I couldn’t get any sleep in my cell due to the guy in the next cell over yelling every hour or so, “Zombies are attacking,”

 

The guards would tell him to keep it down, but he’d make up for his quiet time with an even longer, louder yell the next time.

 

“Sure, I’ve been in jail four times now and it hasn’t hurt me at all.  It builds character,” he said reassuringly.

 

I backed a little more into my apartment suddenly noticing a few tattoos I hadn’t seen before.  Were some of them gang signs?

 

Oblivious to my discomfort, the deliveryman said, “If you need anyone to talk to, you can call me.  My daughter is a big fan of yours.  And my son plans to try out for your show.”

 

As he wrote down his number, I quickly replied, “I’m good, thanks though.  Have a nice day.”

 

He was saying goodbye, and it was nice to meet me, as I retreated back into my apartment.

 

Inside, once I was sure the UPS guy was on his way, I opened the box.  There was a ton of packaging foam and, nestled inside, a teddy bear.

 

 The bear was brown and looked more than a little loved.  It had shiny, black, beady eyes.  They were very creepy but I tried to ignored them. 

 

The bear had a red ribbon around its neck and a nametag.  I read it aloud, laughing a little, “Adam Stone Jr.”

 

Inside the box was also a letter.  It was hand written in cursive.


Dear Adam Stone,

 

This is Abby.  I watched your show with my Dad since I was five.  I’m seven now and I love watching you fight zombies.  My Dad explained to me what you did at Gordita Gong to get you in jail.  Now I don’t want Adam Stone Junior anymore.  You can have him!   

 

Angry,

Abby

 

I wandered back into the computer room and sat down.  I set the bear on the desk, tucked near the monitor.  As I began to type, I could kind of feel the plush bear staring at me.  I gave it a hard look before going about my business.

 

Onto Youtube I went, where lo and behold, I found myself again!  Yup, that was my handsome face plastered all over the main page.

 

There I was, stealing the sign.  And there, in the background of newsman’s report as they hauled my ass into county lock-up.

 

Below that video, there was a reaction video from a girl in a bikini.  Finally, I thought.  Some normalcy.

 

As I clicked the video, I couldn’t help but notice how worn the bear was.  It seemed like the kind of toy I had with me as a kid when I went to bed. 

 

The video loaded and the bikini girl re-absorbed my attention.

 

“I’m Melissa Kael,” she said, perky as anything.  “And I wanted to say that, Adam Stone, I support you.  It was just a stupid sign!  People are way over reacting,”

 

When Melissa’s short burst of support ended, the site recommended another video.  So I clicked.

 

It was a new vlog, just starting up.  At least, I hoped it was because the intro video was lame.  It had some poorly drawn ducks walking across the screen to peppy music.

 

Then the host appeared.  She said,  “Hello, watchers!  Today we’re talking about three topics… and they all involve Hungry Zombies star Adam Stone!”

 

Oh, great.  I sighed and almost clicked out of the tab until I saw the sidebar with the topic list:  Adam Stone attacks Gordita Gong.  I knew that one.

 

Copy cat zombie thefts around the nation.  Well… that was news.

 

But the third topic damn near gripped me by the gonads: Suicide of long time Adam Stone fan girl Clarissa Moore.

 

The host continued to talk as I tried to make sense of the headline.  “Around the country,” she said, “stores like Bullseye, GoodBuy, and even malls have been the victims of zombies itching for a five finger discount!  There’s talk in certain communities about banning zombie costumes and–”

 

I closed out of the whole thing.

 

Suicide.

 

I leaned back in my swivel chair and looked at the ceiling.  My mind hummed.

 

Did I cause that?  I mean, she probably was unstable and she might have died anyway  Right?  I can’t have been the reason.

 

I looked over at the teddy bear that some little girl used to love.  Its eyes caught me again.  They were so damned creepy.

 

I decided to check my email, but when I saw the barrage of letters—from my agent, from reporters, from my grandmother—I thought better and just shut everything down.

 

It was only six o’clock, but I had just about enough for the day.  I lied down on my bed; I left the door to my computer room open but the teddy bear was nowhere in sight.


I dozed off until my cell rang.

 

I answered, my voice low and groggy.  Like a real zombie, I thought.

 

“Hey, Adam,” the familiar voice said.

 

“Oh, hey, Greg.”  I sat up, wiping sleep from my eyes.  “Dude, thank god you called.  I wicked need an escape right now.”

 

“I figured you might need a break from all this attention,” he said.  Greg was an old friend, one I’d had since before I was cast for Hungry Zombies our junior year of high school.  True friends like him were few and far between.

 

He said, “Meet up for laser tag?”

 

“Sounds good.  Meet you there.”

 

I rolled out of bed and got changed.  As I passed the bear, its eyes seemed to follow me.  As our gazes met, I thought, Suicide. Adam Stone Junior.

 

I took the train to hang out with Greg at the Zap Place, just ten minutes from my house.  The prize area had probably a hundred bears on the wall.  I looked around at all the whack-a -moles popping up and all the little kids running around.  Was one of them Abby? 


I tried to regain my focus.  I put a dollar in the token machine as I waited.  I put a few coins into a racing game.  For a few moments, nothing mattered except the imaginary arctic wind in my face.

 

I raced and won.  I was entering my initials when Greg walked up.

 

“Hey, Adam,” Greg said warmly.

 

“Hey, man.  What took you so long?”

 

I felt like the stress was obvious in my voice.

 

He said, “I got caught up in the crowds.  Are you okay?”

 

I sighed, heavily.  “Not really.  I don’t think so, at least.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Did he really not know?  Was it not all over the news?  I said, “Some girl killed herself because of me!”


I worried he would walk away at that point, but then he said, “You believed that?  That was a hoax.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah.  Some stupid internet group thought it’d be funny to make your fans think you had caused it.  The girl’s fine.  She was the one to come forward about it being fake.”

 

I was relieved, maybe more than I should have been.  “What about the robberies?”

 

He frowned.  “Those were real.”

 

We were both silent for a moment.

 

I thought back to Abby.  I said to Greg, “You know, some little girl sent me her teddy bear.  I mean, that thing is worn down to the fluff in spots.  She must have loved that thing a lot.  Anyway, she’d named it after me.  She didn’t want to keep the bear, because it reminded her of me and what I did.  All those kids stealing, practically in my honor.  Do you know what that must have done to her?”

 

Greg placed a hand on my back.  “Dude, everyone makes mistakes.”

 

His words echoed the deliveryman’s.

 

Greg continued.  “The guy across the hall at my dorm was arrested for possession.  You were arrested for a prank.  The only reason why you’re on the news and he isn’t is because you are famous.  It sucks, but it’s as simple as that.”

 

“But, the little girl…”

 

“You’re a public figure, my friend,” Greg said.  “There are consequences that apply to you and the people that care about you that don’t apply to other people.  You’re responsible for how you act, because everyone is watching.  I don’t think you’d have gotten into television if you had a problem with people watching you.  And if you do, you’re going to have to get over that.”

 

Leave it to Greg to make sense of a day that felt void of sanity.

 

“Thanks, I really needed some help there,” I mused.

 

He grinned.  “That’s what friends are for.”

 

The moment was too serious, so I said, “No, they are for meat shields to block the shots of the seven-year-old’s that play laser tag all year round.”

 

I smirked.

 

Greg laughed.  “What makes you think I’m going to be your meat shield?”

 

I took some time to get my mind off things after that.  Greg was a good friend, but he wasn’t very good at the game.  Neither was I, despite what you’d expect from a guy who made his living on television hunting and shooting zombies.  That’s what special effects were for.

 

We lost horribly to a pack of laser-gun-proficient ten year olds.  Then we both headed home.  When I arrived and opened the door, I turned on the light.  At this point, I knew what I had to do.

 

I picked up the letter the girl had sent me.  The header gave me her dad’s name and email.

 

I started my letter.

 

To Abby,

 

I have thought about what you said.  And I want to apologize.  I promise to try to be better, for you and all the other little girls and boys out there who look up to me.  I never knew how much you cared.  It means a lot to me.

 

By the way, Adam Stone Junior made it here safe. He said he is very happy to vacation here with me.  I also wanted to let you know, if you miss him and want him back, I can send him home any time.

 

Sincerely,

Adam Stone

 

Less than a minute after I sent it, there was a reply.

 

Dear Mr. Stone,

 

This is Abby’s father Steve Course.  You and your Hungry Zombies character mean the world to Abby.  When you were arrested, she was furious.  She had me overnight the bear to you.  Then, that night she couldn’t sleep.  If you could get that bear back to us, I would do just about anything.

 

Sincerely,

Steve Course

 

I replied.

 

Don’t worry about it, I’ll have the bear in the mail by tomorrow. 

 

I grabbed the bear, signed a Hungry Zombies publicity photo, and put both into a canvas bag with the show’s logo on it.  As I walked out of my apartment, headed towards the post office, I hoped I’d be able to look at myself in the mirror again after today.

 

I promised myself no more crazy stunts.  No more angry outbursts.  Yeah, I knew everyone makes mistakes.  But one stupid act led to how many even more stupid acts?  I needed to shape up if I ever wanted to sleep at night without worrying about what some fans were doing because of me.