When Fangirls Lie

by Marian Tee

  Saffi forced herself to meet Staffan’s gaze. “I can’t be with you anymore, Staffan.”

  Her words knocked him over, and he felt like iron claws had suddenly wrapped around his heart. “Saffi---” He couldn’t think of anything to say after that. He was panicking, and not even with Chloe had he felt this afraid. He had to make this right. He had to. Without Saffi, he was nothing.

  He tried again, his voice hoarse. “Saffi, I’m sorry.” When she shook her head at him, the stars still absent in her gaze, Staffan reached for her desperately.

  “No!”

  Staffan went cold at the way Saffi shrank away from his touch. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore, Saffi,” he promised her fiercely.

  She shook her head furiously. “I can’t…it’s just…” Even though it killed her to do so, Saffi made herself look at Staffan. “It’s not you, Staffan. It’s me. I can’t let myself be with you. I just…” She covered her mouth, pressing her hands hard against her lips to stop them from trembling. “Staffan, I just don’t have any pride when I’m with you and it’s not right. It’s just not.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  @TheOfficialStaffanAehrenthalStalker, Twitter:

  Spotted: Staffan at a university in Florida--- is he dating a college co-ed?

  Twitpic.com/xxxxjg

  Hours had passed, but Saffi’s words still hadn’t left him, had indeed taken to repeating itself nonstop in his mind. The words humbled and terrified him at the same time. On one hand, it made Staffan hopeful. Surely such words meant Saffi still cared for him, one way or another. But on the other hand, those words could also mean that she was determined to move on and nothing he could do would change her mind.

  It was a goddamn mess, but even so all Staffan knew was that whatever happened, he wasn’t going to fucking back away just like that. And if Saffi had somehow thought he was going to be like a fucking selfless knight in shining armor, that he’d play nice and let her go because she deserved someone better---

  She was so fucking wrong.

  He needed her. He loved her. And those things had to matter.

  Everyone at the hotel snapped into attention when he walked inside. It was ironic that the event Saffi was slated to attend – and receive an award – was being held in yet another one of his stepfather’s hotels.

  Two uniformed security men stood guard at the entrance. Guests before Staffan showed their invitations before proceeding inside but when he reached the front of the line, Staffan merely raised a brow and the pair hurriedly threw the doors open for him.

  Every man inside the vast and elegantly decorated ballroom was dressed in suit and tie. That was a fucking good omen, he told himself. It would make him stand out more in his white tux. He remembered how Saffi used to comment all the time on his red carpet photos, saying over and over again how much she loved his “sophisticated” taste in clothes.

  Well, if that was what she fucking wanted, he would dress in a goddamn tux every day, even work out with a fucking bowtie if he had to. Staffan was willing to do everything it took to make her realize the truth.

  ~~~

  Even though she was backstage, waiting for her name to be called and receive her award, Saffi knew the exact moment Staffan came inside the ballroom. Perhaps it was the way a palpable wave of lust went through all the females in the crowd, making them literally fan their faces. It could have been the noticeable buzz of whispers or – if she had the courage to peek past the curtains – it could easily be the way hundreds of flash bulbs had suddenly gone off, turning the ballroom into a galaxy of blinking stars from phone and digital cameras.

  Trying not to show how much the knowledge of Staffan’s proximity rattled her, Saffi continued almost desperately, “Can we go through the routine again? I’m a little nervous. This is my first time to receive an award. I know it’s not much---I mean, it’s not like I’m a valedictorian or something. It’s just because I’m such a nerd I had submitted the most number of research papers---”

  “Staffan Aehrenthal is outside,” Tanya, the senior in charge of directing the entire student-organized event, told her with wide eyes the moment Saffi paused for breath.

  Saffi stared fixedly at her notes. “Oh?” She told herself she didn’t care. Well, fine – she did. But that didn’t matter. This was going nowhere and it would never go anywhere because she and Staffan weren’t meant to be.

  Tanya’s face became filled with awe. “You’re so cool about this. If he was looking for me, I’d be melting right now---like right this very moment.”

  “There’s nothing to be excited about.” Saffi was thankful of the way she was able to sound unaffected even as her insides twisted with pain. “I’m a great…fan of his and from there we became…friends.”

  “Really?” Tanya let out an audible sigh of relief. “I’m so glad to hear that! I thought you two had something going on.” She cleared her throat. “Maybe you could introduce me to him later?”

  Saffi knew Tanya was subtly asking her to set her up with Staffan. Her first violent instinct was to say no, but she forced herself to smile and nod. “Sure.” She could do it. She had to do it. The sooner Staffan understood that she couldn’t be with him, that she could never be whatever he wanted her to be in his life, the quicker she could have her life back to normal.

  And then her name was being called.

  ~~~

  Staffan had just finished refusing the tenth person to offer giving up his front-row seat to him when Saffi’s name was finally called. His attention immediately arrested, Staffan held his breath as the curtains parted and Saffi slowly walked into the center of the stage.

  She was an angelic vision in white, her curly hair falling in beautiful waves past her bare shoulders. A ruby-red pendant gleamed against her skin, and Staffan knew the way it rested in the valley of her breasts would draw lustful gazes all around. His jaw clenched with jealousy, and it was all he could do not to race up the stage and cover Saffi with his jacket. If he ever fucking found which goddamn idiot designed Saffi’s dress, that person was going to lose his fucking business. He’d goddamn make sure of it.

  Staffan wrestled his gaze away from her just to look at the crowd, and his fears proved to be true. Everyone was practically ogling her and it took all of his legendary self-control not to order everyone out. This was fucking family property, and he definitely had the right to do so if he wanted. And if it weren’t for the fact that Staffan needed to crawl his way back into Saffi’s good graces, he would have done so without a qualm.

  When she took the award and the microphone, her eyes briefly scanned the crowd. “Thank you so much for---” Saffi stumbled into a stop when her gaze met Staffan’s. When she hadn’t seen him in the front row, she had started to breathe more easily. After all, he was Staffan Aehrenthal. He was always used to the best, and he’d never be the type to sit anywhere but the front row.

  But apparently, she was wrong.

  Saffi took a deep breath and started again. “I’m really thankful for this award. I know it says in this plaque An Award for Prolific Achievements, but we all know that just means I’m the biggest nerd in school.” She smiled as she waited for the laughter to die down. “But it’s okay, really, because I’m happy as a nerd. Personally, I think it’s just another way of describing a person who’s found his or her passion in life. This university helped me find my passion, and I’ll be forever thankful for that. So…” She lifted her award up. “I’m offering this to my fellow nerds!”

  Practically everyone came to their feet after that, thunderous applause filling the room and startling Saffi. Flushed with pleasure at the way her speech was received, she had been able to momentarily forget about everything that happened in the past…until she came face to face with Staffan, who was waiting for her backstage.

  Up close, he was even more overwhelmingly handsome, a prince in the flesh, easily standing out with his gleaming white tux while everyone else blended blandly into the darkness. Outside, she heard the lights shutti
ng off one by one as their host gave his final speech. A party song played right after, followed by the cheers of the crowd.

  All of those felt like it was happening in another dimension, though.

  Right now, it was just Staffan and her again.

  It felt so right that it had to be wrong.

  “Congratulations, Saffi,” he said quietly, his eyes shining with something like pride. “You were magnificent back there.”

  Saffi stepped back quickly just as Staffan reached out for her. She made her lips form a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, pretending she didn’t see the flash of hurt in Staffan’s gaze at the way she had avoided his touch.

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I really appreciate you coming here. I am still your biggest…fan.” Somehow, she couldn’t make herself say she was a fangirl, feeling like she didn’t deserve to call herself that. She lowered her voice, making sure that only Staffan could hear her as she said, “But I think it’s better if you go now.”

  He stiffened.

  She stiffened, too, wondering if she had pushed him too far. His pride meant a lot to him, after all.

  And then he stunned her by speaking in a voice that was neither loud nor soft but just enough for everyone to hear if they wanted to – and of course they wanted to.

  “I’d give you anything you want in the world, Saffi, but I’m not letting you go without a fight this time.”

  Somewhere behind her, a girl shrieked, as if carried away by the fierceness in Staffan’s tone.

  Saffi could only empathize. Her own heart was beating so madly it was a miracle she could hear anything beyond it. She shook her head in confusion. “Staffan---why are you doing this? Can’t you see it’s not going to work?”

  “It will if you give it a try---”

  “I did give us a try,” she cut him off tonelessly. “And you responded by practically having sex with another woman in front of me.”

  Staffan whitened. “I was a fucking ass. I’d kill myself a hundred times if it means taking away the hurt that caused you – but I can’t. All I can tell you right now was I was a fool. I hadn’t trusted you. I let my bitterness about Chloe color my perception. All I can do now is to prove to you that I will love you every fucking day of my life---devote every fucking minute of it to making you happy.”

  The words were so exquisitely beautiful it broke Saffi’s heart to ignore them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just can’t do this with you anymore.” She ran away then, and she ran even faster when she heard Staffan calling for her before taking after her.

  Moon-walking mudskipper!

  “Saffi!”

  She was gasping loudly now, trying to catch her breath as she did her best to run away from Staffan in her ball gown and high heels. Thank God the crowd had forgotten all about restraint, crowding towards him and begging for autographs and having their picture taken with him.

  “Goddammit, Saffi!”

  He was still after her? How could he have gotten past those man-hungry vamps so quickly?

  A familiar-looking guy suddenly popped in front of her. He was decent looking even though his hair was combed so flatly it stuck to his scalp. “H-hi, Sapphire. I just wanted to tell you congratulations for a job well done.” His voice was sincerely admiring as he added, “I still can’t imagine how you were able to write a new research study every week for the school year.”

  “Saffi!”

  Staffan’s voice made her swallow, but she managed not to look over her shoulder as she told the guy, “It’s just really because I’m the biggest nerd.” She jumped when Staffan called for her again, this time sounding too close. Physically, emotionally, mentally – he was just too close for comfort.

  “Saf---”

  She panicked. “Umm, Mike, right?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Actually, I’m---”

  She cut him off. “Care to dance?” Not bothering to wait for an answer, she pulled him to the middle of the dance floor and threw her arms around him. There. That should stop Staffan. He had always prided himself for being cool. He had always been possessive and jealous, but his pride would never allow him to actually fight another man over a woman.

  Not after what Chloe did to him.

  Staffan broke into a stop at the edge of the dance floor, recent exertions making him breathe a little harder than usual. Was she fucking serious? Was she really going to fucking let another man get his dick close to her body in a slow dance just to keep him away? And did she really think that would keep him away?

  Ah Saffi March.

  As always, she proved to be bad for his ego but good for his heart, with the way she could give him a cardio workout like no other. As for her talent for turning what was supposed to be the most dramatic moment in their lives into a fucking scene worthy of a Golden Globe for Best Sitcom? It was priceless.

  But what he probably loved most about Saffi was her propensity not to think things through, proving again and again how she was the opposite of the majority of calculating bitches in the world.

  Had Saffi forgotten she was on a fucking dance floor?

  This was his world, not hers.

  He went to the DJ, quietly said what he needed, and waited.

  ~~~

  Saffi stiffened when Jay-Z and Justin Timberlake’s collaboration for Suit & Tie was cut mid-song and she stiffened even more when it was replaced by the first few notes of a song that was hypnotically seductive…and terribly familiar.

  Poison.

  The song that launched Staffan into stardom, the song that Staffan crooned as he introduced her to the wonders of his unique brand of hand selection---twisting tonguefish! It was the kind of déjà vu Saffi didn’t need right now.

  And then she heard Staffan singing. Live.

  She whirled around.

  Staffan didn’t make any move to walk to her, as if giving her a chance to continue dancing with Mike, Mark---whatever his name was, giving her a chance to shame him the way Chloe had in the past. Then his humiliation had been private, a matter between the two of them. But now he was giving her the upper hand, a chance to demolish him in front of everyone.

  She started to cry, her knees giving way but before she could stumble into her partner’s chest, sure fingers had wrapped around her wrist, spinning her away. The next thing she knew, she was in Staffan’s arms, staring up at his glittering eyes as he sang. To her. For her.

  He started to move, his body fluid, strong, and graceful, and Saffi’s body moved with his like magic, like she never had two left feet all along. “I love you,” she whispered.

  Staffan’s eyes shone brightly, but he didn’t stop singing, dancing---didn’t stop showing her off to the crowd. There was no hand selection, but somehow this dance felt even more intimate, turning Saffi into a blushing tongue-tied statue as the last notes of his song died down.

  Applause followed, rocking the ballroom, and then Staffan tipped her chin up.

  For a moment, all he could do was stare. She was finally back in his arms, seemingly willingly, but a tiny part of him still doubted his good fortune. “Forgive me, Saffi,” he whispered, not caring that his lapel microphone was broadcasting every word.

  Her mouth parted in silent shock, tears raining down on her cheeks. She couldn’t believe someone as proud as Staffan was apologizing to her in public. She tried to speak and couldn’t, her throat constricted with emotions. All she could do was nod.

  Staffan took her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. There were sighs all over the ballroom again, with every woman knowing that Staffan Aehrenthal had to be in love. After all, the rockstar was famous for not doing romantic, for being overly sexual with everything, for being proud about not being a gentleman.

  “Why are you doing this?” she blurted out.

  He answered her with a boyish-looking grin, which put her knees in danger of giving way again.

  “If I was her, I’m not going to fucking ask why,” a woman muttered behind Saffi. “I’ll just fuck
him.”

  Saffi paid it no attention. She was getting used to the fact that virtually every woman would have an opinion about anything that Staffan did.

  “You’re really asking me that?”

  She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  He raised a brow. “You tell me. I distinctly remember you saying in your Facebook that this was how I proposed---”

  Saffi gasped. “Staffan!” She closed her eyes, unable to look at Staffan or anywhere else since she was surrounded by people all around. Oh my God. She couldn’t believe that Staffan had read that! “It was a joke,” she said weakly, eyes still welded shut. If she had her way, she was going to live her life like this from now on. It would keep her immune to embarrassment.

  He pressed feather soft kisses on her eyelids, chuckling when she blushed and squeezed her eyes shut more tightly. “Saffi.”

  “Please let’s not talk in front of everyone anymore?”

  He ignored that. “I love you.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Staffan.”

  He cupped her face. “Life with you will be one eternally wonderful dance, a sweet waltz, a passionate tango, a crazy breakdance---”

  Staffan thought about the way she couldn’t lie to save her life, the way she talked about fish all the time, and how adorably sweet she was in the quirkiest ways.

  He grinned. “When we dance, the music will be something only the two of us can understand.” Staffan kissed her nose. “And that’s exactly how I want it because it means you’re mine alone and…”

  She sniffed. “Staffan.”

  He said simply, “I’m yours alone.”

  “Staffan!”

  He grinned. His beautiful and adorable H – who was also his prim little Saffi – had wailed his name this time, and then she suddenly literally jumped into his arms, forcing Staffan to take a few steps back as his arms immediately went around her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, legs around his waist and kissed him. It wasn’t proper at all. She knew that. This was something H and not Saffi would do, but right now she didn’t care. “I love you,” she whispered, crying the words against his mouth.