Need that picture of you, it's so magical

I pushed my way through the crowd of adoring fans and may have accidentally pushed someone a bit too hard but I do not pay them any mind, all I wanted to see was him and if a few people are going to fall over and scrape their knees for that to happen then so be it. He consumes my mind for most of my day and I really do not wish for it to be any other way- even now, right at this moment my minds' singular goal was to capture a photo of him, looking ever so magical in a perfectly fitted suit with his perfectly slicked back hair and his perfect smile. He was just perfect.

I have always had a problem with finding a fixation since I was young. While my friends were obsessing over boy bands, actors or athletes, I failed miserably at sticking to one celebrity for a significant period of time. I found myself growing bored with them over time and my initial infatuation simply disappeared with the wind.

Then, on one fateful day I saw him. Beautiful, alluring him. You see, my dad own a major record label here in L.A. and I basically get a free pass to any party in the city but that comes at a price of course; listening to the sleep inducing business talk between my father and his associates. One might have thought that the daughter of some big name record label owner would at least pretend to be partially interested for the sake of the company but since I have no inclination to even be in the industry, you will always find me running away after a few nods and "mhhm"s.

As the universe has it, that day was no different. While my dad was rambling about contracts and record deals and what not, I wandered around on my own, drink in hand. The light in the room was so dim that you could barely see anyone's faces clearly and although I would usually complain, I silently thanked whoever was in charge of the lighting that day because if it were not for them, I may have never bumped into him- Damian Alvarez.

One year ago...

"who the hell approved of this sort of lighting? I can barely see my own feet when I walk" I whispered to myself as I circled the venue, entertaining myself with the shenanigans of 'early stages of drunk' party goers- was that Kris Jenner?

I soon got lost in my thoughts as I continued wandering around and surprise, surprise- I bumped into someone and spilled my drink on them. Yay.

"I am so sorry about that, do you want me to dry clean it for you? Or maybe I can just buy you a new one?" I grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and started to dab it against their shirt. Will it minimize the damage? No, it would not but you cannot blame a girl for trying.

Preoccupied with the disaster that was me spilling my drink, I did not even bother to look up and take a look at their face, not until I heard a chuckle from them which soon turned into a full on laugh and god was I attracted to it- both his laugh and his face. Especially his face.

"No worries, I was itching to leave anyway and now I have a plausible excuse so really, I should be thanking you" His fingers grazed mine while he took the napkin off of my hands and continued dabbing on his shirt while flashing me that perfect smile of his.

End of recall

The exact smile I am currently trying to capture. I made sure to put the flash on because you will never know true pain until you look back at a what you though was the perfect shot, only to be let down by a dark image instead of a well composed one. I could of course, chase him down for a photo but I cannot do it now. At least not here.

I took a couple shots as he passed by me, probably not even noticing my presence or the fact that we have met before, not that I mind. In fact, him not remembering me made it easier for me to see him anytime and anywhere I wanted. Wherever he was, I was there too.

I know what you are thinking, "Do you not have a job or something else to do?" and to that I answer yes, I am actually a college student. Surprisingly, I have other responsibilities and activities that I do other than stalking him. It is not my favourite term to use but there is no other word that could describe what I am doing. Yes, I am aware that it is not healthy but it is not like I am hurting him and I do not plan on even approaching him anytime soon. Watching and admiring from afar is best.

Satisfied with my pictures, I walked back towards where my car was parked and headed straight home.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Nobody knew what I morph into when it comes to him but if they did, they would be underwhelmed by the lack of signs in my obsession. Unlike many fanatics, I do not have an entire shrine dedicated to him in my room and do not collect any memorabilia of him except for one lone framed magazine cover placed right above the desk where I do most of my work because everybody needs a little drive in their lives, do they not?

While waiting for the files to transfer onto my laptop, I glanced at said magazine cover. There he was, laying back on the hood of a vintage car- one that you usually see in 70s cinema, hair wild and unkept, dressed in a punk suit like ensemble with tattered leather boots. The words 'Garage Glamourous' in bold smacked at the bottom part of the cover. However to be truthful, I am still not sure what it meant nor do I care.

The only reason I bought the magazine in the first place was because I was in the photo with him. If you looked really closely, you could see me in the background in a striking red dress with my back turned towards the camera. I knew the shooting would be done in the middle of the road so I pulled a few strings and took my chance. He may not know that I was in that photo with him but I did. It was not merely a photo of him, it was a photo of US and if someone ever were to buy it from me I am afraid that they would have to steal it. There will never be a number equivalent to the price of this photo and it will stay that way forever.