"Are you up for the job" he asks me.
"I'm in. Now who are my targets?"
"Target in sight" I say into the walkie talkie.
"Do this well and you may continue our deal" I hear from the other end.
"I do my job well, Simon. Don't doubt me yet."
"Make sure it looks like an accident. We don't want to be caught."
"I'm not an idiot."
I slip into the recording booth and rip the wires out of the light circuit. While connecting the wires to the metal microphone, she walks in. I quickly hide inside the air vent.
"Trap is set" I tell Simon.
"Now let's start recording" he laughs.
I watch through the vent as the music begins. Nikki grabs the microphone and drops to the ground. Simon, obviously pretending, and two other men rush over to her and check her pulse.
"She's... she's gone" they announce.
They escort her out of the room, and I slip on my rubber gloves. Grabbing up the wires and placing them back in the circuit, I clean up the evidence.
"Target one down, four to go."
"Good job. You may continue" I'm told.
As I reach home, I receive a call from Simon.
"Hello. So Nikki is down. Funeral is in two weeks. As far as people think, she's done with fame."
"So nobody thinks she's dead?"
"Nope. Public and new papers think she took a break, permanently."
"Now, target two next week?"
"Perfect. I'll see you on the 10th."
I pull into my driveway, hanging up the phone. I grab my bag and walk inside. On the table is a new newspaper.
Nikki Minaj, break from fame forever?
Simon Cowell has recently announced the retirement of Nikki Minaj. Nobody knows why the star had a sudden change of mind, but we wish her well.
I laugh at the article. Clueless people.
Let me be honest. I didn't want to get into this business. It kind of just happened. I haven't been able to do much with my life, and I wish there were more to it.
"Hey. How was work today" Toby asks.
"Just fine. Got one for my new boss. Just need a few more" I reply.
"Nice. I got a new one starting tomorrow."
My best friend goes through the kitchen pantry, grabbing the Nutella and throwing it to me.
"Make me some Nutella pancakes" he orders.
"It's nine at night!"
"Never too late for Nutella pancakes."
I laugh at him and begin to cook. While cooking, I turn on the radio, and, surprise surprise, my next target comes on. Justin.