effortless

At the age of 21, I win the Powerball lottery jackpot of 200 million, cash option. I split half with various family members, and keep 100 million for myself. I decide that ultimately, I wish to travel, and see the world. I buy a digital camera and a domain name under a false name. I use the car I already own, a beat up used Dodge Neon, and I start roadtripping across the United States.

I literally stop in every small town, not wanting to leave any city unvisited. I don't remember the cities as much as I do of the pictures I take. Seemingly unimportant landscapes and various pictures of banal small town life. But I am content with all of it, and my travels.

For some reason, the website I am updating has gotten followers, and is starting to become popular. People begin writing posts on various websites around the internet inquiring to my identity, wanting to meet me, wanting to show me their town. People start calling me Lennox, or even X instead of the full name Jake Lennox I had given myself from Day 1.

I am amused and of course sort of excited by the attention, but I know that any kind of fame or recognition is not what I want. I change my website so now that the pictures uploaded are a month behind my current travels, so no one is the wiser to where I really am at any certain time.

People become wise to the fact that they can email me at [email protected] and I become interested in answering people's inquiries back, although of course not giving up any personal information or where I am ever located at any given time. I've never been given any sort of attention before, and as I'm traveling alone I am often lonely, so the emails are my only outlet of being social and for me, my only way of having friends.

The popularity of my site grows. It soon seems that the popularity rises not because of the pictures, but of the fact that everyone is clamoring to find out my identity. It suddenly becomes "cool" to say that you've hung out with Jake Lennox, and no one can dispute it (especially me) because no one can prove otherwise.

I reach the attention of the mainstream media, Extra, TMZ, Perez Hilton, and finally the attention of Ashton Kutcher, who begins emailing me regularly. Our emails are nothing out of the ordinary. Friendly, sharing a connection between two people. He is fond of calling me X, along with everyone else.

After several months he starts hinting that I should come to LA and meet him, hang out at so and sos house, or at the Super Bowl, or any other kind of sporting event. I always decline as politely as possible, frightened by the idea of him hating me when discovering my true identity, a plain Midwestern girl.

Eventually, I can't help it. I fall for Ashton, but I am still determined to stay away from him, knowing that he doesn't know who I really am, he only knows the lies. After almost over a year, he drops another invitation - come to the White Party held by his friend Sean Combs in New York. That no one will know who I am, and he and I will finally get to meet in person with no repercussions.

Against my better judgement, I agree, flying to New York. As Ashton promised, my invitation was accepted with no second glance, and I was in. I managed to find my way to a secluded third floor. A ring around the main dance floor, two stories below. A sea of people in white dancing below to a pop beat, green lights washing over them as I stood watching them alone, enthralled.

I receive a txt from Ashton "Where are you?" and now he is on his way. No turning back now. I hear the door open behind me, but I watch the scene of the party before me breathless, never seeing anything like it before. Fnally, I turn around.

And there he is, a stunned and surprised look on his face at first as he walks toward me, but then he smiles charmingly, making me want to melt in a puddle right there.

"Hi' he says, stopping in front of me, extending his hand still smiling. "I'm Chris."

"Hi Chris", I reply shaking his hand, trying not to blush as I smile shyly. "I'm Sera."

I'm not sure why I give him a false name, maybe habit? Nerves? I figure I have a good reason, so I don't correct myself.

"Sera..." he muses on my name for awhile. "It's nice to meet you."

I turn then to face away from him, but we are now next to each other, watching the party unfold below us. I look sideways at him and give him a knowing look, with a big grin. I can't help it, I'm beside myself with happiness to finally be meeting Chris face to face. I reply "It's nice to finally meet you too"

And he big grins back, grabbing my hand to pull us closer, facing one another again. And we begin leaning closer and closer, until we engage in one simple breathtaking kiss.

When we separate, a pensive look crosses my face and say, "So I guess you're not mad?" and he laughs shaking his head "No, I'm not mad. Relieved, more like it."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and he releases my hand as he reaches for his cell phone, which is buzzing in his pocket.

"Shit" he says "Sean is texting me from downstairs, he says he has someone that he wants me to meet." Chris looks up at me from his phone "..but you aren't going to come with me to meet him if I ask, are you?"

I shake my head "No, not tonight."

Chris nods understandingly and hastily puts his phone back in his pants pocket and lightly touches the side of my face with the palm of his hand. "I'll be back, ten minutes tops, okay?"

"Okay", I nod to him as he releases me and starts heading towards the door. "..bye."

I waited an hour, before I finally left. Turns out that Sean introduced Chris to Demi Moore that night. The love of Chris' life and his future wife.