Scandalicious* by Mellz Bellz
Chapter 1 by Mellz Bellz
Author's Notes:
This is a completely different kind of story for me. My first dabble in the world of suspense, so PLEASE any feedback would be amazing! I've had this basic idea for a few years now and its evolved a lot and lately I haven't been able to get it off my mind. So enjoy!



PS: I know that Dirt is the name of a show on FX about a tabloid of the same name. The two are completely unrelated. I just thought that it was a REALLY awesome name for a tabloid and since this is fan fiction and I do not have plans to get this published I think I should be safe from getting sued lol.

Chapter 1


LA…The city of angels. The place where dreams come true. (At least in the old 1930's Hollywood sense.) The place where every young hopeful actor or actress, musician, or director, flocked to in order to finally find their big break. A place where every waiter, every hostess, every valet, every cab driver... almost everyone you encountered, were struggling to find their place in show business. LA was filled with people who were obsessed with the industry and the best way to break into the circle.

And in the midst of it all were the celebrities themselves, the Gods and Goddesses of the entertainment world. Onlookers watched them in awe, anxiously awaiting their next scandalous move. They strive to emulate them in any way possible, whether it be trying to get into some exclusive night club or restaurant, or even something as simple as wearing their hair the same way and using the same beauty products. The truth was that America held their celebrities up on a pedestal. Sadly, there were some Americans who couldn’t tell you who the Vice President was, yet they could tell you exactly who Lindsay Lohan happened to be dating that particular week. It was no secret that Americans thrived on celebrity gossip.

And that’s exactly why I have a job today, twenty- eight year old, Heather Sandler thought to herself with a wry smile as she gazed out the window of her LA high rise office building. She really shouldn’t be wasting any time reflecting on exactly what made her magazine a hit with its readers. If she didn’t get to work on that layout for next weeks issue, she wouldn’t have to reflect on just what made celebrities so interesting to their ordinary counterparts. As it was, she was already pulling a late night just to ensure that she had a substantial amount of gossip to present to the rest of her staff tomorrow morning.

Dirt magazine meant everything to Heather. To her, it wasn’t just another sleazy supermarket tabloid. She considered her magazine to be a step above all of that. From a young age, Heather had been one of those anxious onlookers to the celebrity world. She’d dreamt about what it must feel like to have your picture snapped everywhere you went and to get to attend red carpet premieres and exclusive parties on a daily basis. From the time she was a teenager she’d been completely seduced by the glamour of fame. By the time Heather entered college, she knew that her ultimate dream would be to one day get to experience all that.

Unfortunately, Heather lacked that certain “it” factor that the Hollywood lifestyle required. She couldn’t act, couldn’t sing, and although she was told that she was very pretty, her looks were far from exotic or particularly striking. At 5’7 with rust colored hair, green eyes, and a nice enough figure, she was far from ugly, but girls like her were a dime a dozen on any college campus in the country. She’d gone on a few talent agency auditions, but soon grew frustrated and gave up, until she’ figured out another way to achieve her dream.

If there was one thing Heather was good at, it was writing. In high school she’d been editor of the school newspaper and she did have some interest in working for some sort of publication. She decided to switch her major over to journalism in the middle of her freshman year with plans to someday run her own magazine, a magazine that would showcase all the sides of fame; the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Starting her own magazine proved to be harder than she’d anticipated though. Straight out of college, with no money, and no experience, publishers would laugh in her face when she tried pitching her idea out to several companies. Heather soon quickly learned that the only way for her to achieve her dream would be to start out on the bottom of the totem pole and work her way up to a respectable position. So, she’d moved out to LA and taken a position as an assistant at Star magazine.

Throughout the next few years, Heather became quite the businesswoman. She learned how to network, making sure to get to know people in high places. She worked her way up at Star until she was beginning to do some editing for them. She kissed ass wherever she could and went as far as even sleeping with a few of the ‘right’ people. Finally a miracle came through for her. Her estranged father, who’d left her mother when she was just a baby, passed away in a car accident. Apparently he’d done quite well for himself after the divorce and Heather, being his only child had found herself inheriting quite a nice chunk of money. Enough to finally get her magazine off of the ground.

And so Dirt was born. Throughout all the networking she had done, Heather had managed to pull together a decently sized staff and their first issue had hit the stands earlier that year to an amazing success. Unlike their trashier competitors such as The National Enquirer or The Globe, Dirt set out to be an edgier more credible tabloid that focused solely on celebrities. With its full color pages and glossy covers, Heather considered Dirt somewhere between US Weekly and OK! when it came to reputation. A lot of their stories did come from gossip that had been going through celebrity circles and pictures that their paparazzi had snapped around the streets of LA, but their readers certainly didn’t seem to mind. Dirt had been one of the highest selling new magazines out on the market.

But in the last few weeks, a change had occurred. Their sales, which had remained steady, gradually began to decline. The stories had begun to seem stale and the pictures contrived. After an extremely promising debut, Dirt had begun to plummet. Thankfully enough, it hadn’t just been Dirt that suffered. Tabloids in general were losing their appeal. Maybe America was just sick of hearing about Paris Hilton. Or maybe it was because the stories were beginning to repeat themselves. Who’d be the next starlet to enter rehab? And was it really so juicy when lately it seemed as if once a week another celebrity announced that they were checking in?

That’s why this layout was so important to Heather. She wanted to put forward an issue that would get people talking. She wanted to be the magazine to have the first exclusive scoop on something. Problem was there wasn’t anything. She looked through her notes on possible articles. Paris getting out of jail? Blech, I think we’re all just sick of the whole spectacle. Update on Lindsay in rehab? Who cares? More rumors that Brad and Angelina are on the rocks? Nothing new there. She sighed. With this kind of material there was no way this issue was going to be anything close to spectacular. And if things didn’t shape up soon Dirt would be buried within its first year of publication.

Please God, she mentally pleaded. Give me a little something here. Can’t some new steamy, but scandalous sex tape between two well known celebrities surface? Or how about a fight breaks out somewhere tonight and I’m granted with the exclusive photos?

Heather banged her head against her desk in frustration. It was no use. There was simply nothing new out there. She could only hope that one of her other editors would have something significant to contribute. Otherwise they were toast.

Little did Heather know that one of the year’s biggest scandals was about to explode and it would be exactly the saving grace she needed for her flailing magazine to prosper…




“Mmm… You keep kissing me like that and I really will have to change my mind about spending the night,” Colleen Campbell teased with a seductive smile on her face as she reluctantly pulled away from her boyfriend Nick Carter’s lips.

The corners of Nick’s mouth curled upwards into his famous trademark smirk, which had a reputation of making many a woman melt. “Maybe that’s my evil plan… To keep kissing you until you can’t possibly say no. But seriously, I really don’t understand why you’re even bothering to go back to your place. It’s already almost two in the morning.”

“And I have to be up tomorrow morning at five for a photo shoot,” she reminded him.

“Exactly my point! By the time you get back to your place and into bed you’re only probably going to get two and a half hours sleep.”

“And if I stay here I know damn well that I’ll get no sleep because I know that someone will be keeping me up all night,” Colleen argued. “And trust me. They won’t be too happy tomorrow morning in make up when they have to use half a pound of concealer just to cover the circles under my eyes.”

Nick shot her a goofy looking grin. “But just think… They won’t have to use any of that crap that they use to make you ‘glow’ or whatever, because you’ll have that natural, ‘I’ve just been up all night having great sex’ glow already.”

Colleen just rolled her blue eyes at him and playfully smacked his arm. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to take a rain check on that entire night of great sex. Besides, the studio is closer to my place than it is to here.”

“Fine,” Nick pouted, moving in for one last kiss. “Want me to walk you out?”

“I think I can manage my way out to the driveway fine on my own,” she insisted. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow after I finish up, okay?”

“All right.” But Nick’s hands still did not leave her waist.

Colleen wriggled out of his grasp. “Come on Nick, let go. You’re acting as if you’re never going to see me again or something.”

With a sigh Nick released his grip on her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Be careful driving home. It’s late and there could be a lot of nuts out on the road.”

“Yes, Dad,” she sarcastically replied before heading out the door towards her bright red Mercedes convertible sitting in Nick’s driveway. Before she started off the engine, she checked out her reflection in her rearview mirror, running a quick hand through her layered blonde hair. Even though it was nighttime she decided to leave the top down. The night was pretty warm and there was something very liberating about speeding down an empty dark road with the wind in her hair.

As the engine roared to life and Colleen peeled out of Nick’s driveway she thought about how disappointed Nick had been about her leaving, but he if anyone should understand. They were both deeply involved in the entertainment industry. Him being one fourth of the most popular boy bands to date, The Backstreet Boys, and her being a highly recognizable supermodel who had just signed a big contract with Victoria’s Secret that would more than likely make her as much of a household name as Heidi Klum or Gisele Bundchen. In fact, the shoot tomorrow was for the next Victoria’s Secret catalogue, Colleen’s first shoot of her contract, so she wanted to be well prepared. And something told her that if she did agree to spend the night at Nick’s, it would be a very big distraction. This was certain to be Colleen’s big break and she was so ready for it that she could practically taste it.

He’ll get over it, she told herself as she sped down the dark, curvy roads. If there was one thing that she was used to getting it was what she wanted. She’d learned at a very early age that her beauty was a gift, and throughout the years she’d mastered exactly how to manipulate it to her advantage. It was one of the main reasons that she had gotten this far in her career. Just like when she had first met Nick at an after party for some sort of premiere of something. She didn’t care enough to recall the exact details, but all she had known was as soon as she laid eyes on him she knew that she wanted him. Of course, there had been the slight problem that he had happened to be dating somebody at the time…

Minor detail, she reminded herself with a haughty grin. It hadn’t been long before she’d had Nick eating out of the palm of her hand. Since the moment they’d first been photographed together, the tabloids loved them. What could be more interesting than two beautiful people, one being a supermodel, the other a musician, getting together? It was like a fucking LA Cinderella story. Of course Nick had a history of dating notorious blondes…

Colleen was jarred out of her thoughts as she noticed a pair of bright headlights from behind her. She hoped it wasn’t a cop. She’d been going way over the speed limit and one more speeding ticket might just be the one to cause her license being taken away. What could she say? She loved living dangerously. Licking her lips nervously she checked her mirror more carefully and realized that it definitely wasn’t a cop car, but a large black SUV instead. Not an uncommon vehicle in this part of LA. Although usually at this time of night in this neighborhood, it wasn’t very usual for there to be any other cars on the road, but Colleen just shrugged it off.

Up ahead the road grew a little curvier. Nick lived in obviously a pretty ritzy neighborhood full of multi million dollar homes. His neighborhood was located up in the hills overlooking the beach, so parts of the drive could be considered a little bit scary. There were one or two particularly tight hair pin turns which of course Colleen always took at full speed. She was just approaching one of them up ahead when she felt a forceful bumping sensation and her car lurched forward. Panicking, Colleen just managed to get control of her vehicle before she realized what happened.

That son of a bitch in the SUV just hit me! What the fuck? She barely had time to recover when again she felt the other car crash into the back corner of her Mercedes. This was definitely not an accident now. Someone was trying to run her off the road!

Normally cool and collected, Colleen was now in a full scale panic. What do I do? she wondered. She couldn’t just pull over. There was no room, plus who knew what kind of psycho she was dealing with here. Maybe I should call Nick… Shaking like a leaf, she very unsteadily took one hand off of the wheel to reach for her cell phone. Her hand almost came into contact with it when she was hit again, this time from the side, with so much force that she almost went crashing into the guardrail. By some small miracle she was able to get both hands back on the wheel to swerve out of danger.

Another glance out of her side mirror told her that now the SUV had began to pull up beside her in the opposite lane as if the driver were trying to pass her. Somehow I don’t think he cares that this is a two lane street and he can’t pass here, she realized. Instinctively, her foot pressed harder down onto the gas, hoping to outrun him, but the minute she sped up so did her pursuer.

By now her adrenaline was pumping so fast that she felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. Suddenly she found herself wishing that she had decided to stay back at Nick’s for the night. The hairs on her neck stood up as she felt the shadow from the other vehicle move closer as it pulled up head to head with hers. As much as she tried to tell herself not to look in the direction of her attacker, curiosity got the better of her and her eyes slowly shifted over to her left.

All she remembered seeing was the glint of something silver in the moonlight and what looked like a man’s hand. It was then that she started to scream, an ear piercing panicked scream that sounded like something out of some bad horror movie. Then there was a loud popping noise that sounded like a firecracker and then an overwhelming stinging pain on the left side of her neck. Momentarily forgetting that she was driving, her hands flew upwards and when she pulled them away she was shocked to find them sticky with warm, red, blood.

She saw the guardrail after it was already too late. She was traveling at such a high speed that there simply wasn’t enough time for her to her break or try to swerve. With a loud crashing sound, her convertible impacted with the railing, only her body kept moving. Thrown by the momentum of the crash, her body flew upwards over the hood of her car.

Of course she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. That wouldn’t qualify as living dangerously.

The fall seemed to last forever. And when she finally hit the ground on top of a pile of hard rocks on the beach below, her last thoughts were I wish I had listened to Nick…


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