Karen Kingsbury - Fifteen Minutes

Zack felt his heart sink. He had only heard a quick thank-you back from her after his private Facebook message a year ago. Since then they hadn’t talked, though Zack followed her on Twitter. Last week Zoey had tweeted that she’d completed rehab for her “struggles with exhaustion.” Another of Zoey’s tweets appeared on the TV screen now. Thanks for your prayers, everyone. I’ve learned how to pray. It helps. I may have finally figured out how to live.

The tweet made Zack smile. Maybe she’d had the talk with Jesus he had told her about. It was what he had prayed for. But the struggles and pressures of fame would remain, whether Zoey prayed or not. Like Chandra had told him, the prison of celebrity was unbending no matter who was trapped within its walls.

On TV they were showing contestants lined up in New Orleans, home of the first round of auditions. An on-site reporter spoke loudly against the backdrop of excited contestants. “I’m here in New Orleans where tens of thousands of hopefuls have gathered for the first round of Fifteen Minutes auditions.” He motioned for two teenage girls to join him. “What brought you here today?”

In unison the girls squealed. “We want to be the next winner of Fifteen Minutes !”

“There you have it.” He looked into the camera. “And so season eleven begins. Back to you in the studio.”

Zack had seen enough. He paid for his coffee, and as he headed out the door, the announcer on the TV kept talking. “In other news, one of America’s favorite teen actresses is back in jail after being arrested again for drunk driving. Prosecutors say this is her final strike in her ongoing battle with . . .”

Zack walked out and the door closed behind him.

He didn’t want to think about Fifteen Minutes or the upcoming season or the trouble with another teen actress. He’d lost enough time on such emptiness. Lost more than he ever could’ve dreamed the day he drove off to Atlanta. Chandra had been right about the cost.

But he couldn’t think about that now.

Instead, he walked across the parking lot, breathing in the sweet Kentucky summer air. He had groceries to put away and news to share with his family and a song to finish. Then tomorrow . . . maybe a coffee date with Reese Weatherly. And if God allowed a miracle to play out, sometime in the weeks ahead he might have something else.

A horseback ride at dawn with the girl he still loved.