Thursday, September 24, 2015

Story 101: Crush Cure

            “You are too obsessed with that guy.”
            “What makes you say that?”
            Her bedroom walls were adorned with posters of His face; she had had book covers made that featured photos of Him from His pouty modeling days; her ring tone was His deep voice saying “Ring-ring”; her video queue only had television shows and movies that He was in at least somewhere (even if He was only a background extra for 2.5 seconds); there was much, much more.
            “Everything,” her best (and currently only) friend answered.  “You need to be free of all this; it has to be damaging your soul somehow.”
            “I don’t want to be free!” The Fan flopped onto her bed with the limited edition quilt that had His face stitched upon it.  “My love for Him comforts me.  I’m lulled to sleep each night by the soothing sight of His intense stare, and the soothing sound of His intense voice caressing my ears.”  She gazed fondly at the poster on the ceiling of His most recent action movie as she turned on her stereo set to play His audiobook recording of War and Peace on an endless loop.
            True Friend sighed.  “You need an intervention, especially if you don’t want one.”
            “No one ever wants one!”
            True Friend brought The Fan to a multi-genre convention where He was one of the actors attending to promote their latest film.  Despite The Fan’s devotion, she had never met Him in person: True Friend figured that if this worked, it would be worth all the expense, because meeting fame does not come cheap.
            Their seats in the auditorium were three rows from the back, so their view of the stage itself was pretty terrible; however, there were screens set up for schlubs like them to better see the objects of their devotion.  The Fan’s object was not the main star of this flick, so He was seated all the way at the end of stage right and was asked only one question throughout the whole panel (not by The Fan, who could barely stay in her chair and missed hearing His answer over the beating of her heart).
            When the panel was over, True Friend brought The Fan to the mile-long line for autographs: getting a photo on top of that would have been cost-prohibitive, since True Friend knew it would be unnecessary.  The Fan was bobbing gently on the balls of her feet as they slowly made their way up to His table.
            “I don’t even know what I’ll say to Him!  I think I’ll die first!”  She had begun to shake slightly ten minutes prior.
            “‘Hi’ and ‘Thank you’ should be enough,” True Friend said as she observed fans on the other lines around her in a similar state of swooning.
            “What if I choke?  What if I embarrass myself?  He’s so manly, His very presence will overwhelm me!”
            “Oh look, we’re almost there,” True Friend said.
            The Fan peeked between the heads of the people in front of her, and froze.
            “What?”  True Friend asked.
            “He has a perv `stache,” The Fan said in an odd voice.
            True Friend got a better look at Him.  “Really?  Maybe He’s trying a new look.”
            “It’s a look for a pervert.”
            “An intense, manly pervert?”
            The Fan made a strangled sound; True Friend grabbed her shoulder in comfort.
            It was their turn at last – after 100+ people, True Friend was amazed that He still had the stamina to smile.
            “Hello, ladies!  It’s so great that you came; thank you so much!”  He was grinning from ear to ear in apparent sincerity.
            The Fan was speechless; True Friend spoke for her.
            “We’re really looking forward to your new movie, especially your big fight scene,” she said as she handed Him the autograph cards to sign.
            “Aw, that’s so sweet!  Who should I make these out to?”  The Friend gave Him their names; He spoke as He wrote.  “Don’t tell anyone, but I was scared to death filming that – I wish they didn’t make me take my shirt off for that one `cause it was so cold, but I know you all like it so I don’t mind!  The fake rain during that almost killed my colored lenses, though.”  The ladies saw that His eyes really were a washed-out blue instead of the striking emerald green they were on every promotional photo of Him.  He finished signing, handed them the cards, and smiled with tobacco-stained teeth.  “You all enjoy the rest of the convention!  Thanks again for coming – tell your friends to go see the movie when it comes out on December 15!”  His security guard kindly but firmly showed them the exit.
            They emerged into the main hall of the convention, surrounded by thousands of attendees.
            The Fan finally found her voice.  “Thank you,” she said to True Friend.
            “Has love died?”  True Friend asked.
            “I believe it has,” The Fan said.  “I know now that all I saw in him was his smoldering intensity and unwillingness to show joy.  Take those away, and I have nothing!”
            “Glad you’re cured – now let’s get my money’s worth and check out the rest of these nerds.”
            “Might as well, since I really am one of them.”