Interlude I aka chapter 2b.
Expect more of such creepy interludes.
Interlude I
There she is. I see her before everybody else does. My eyes were on that door for almost half a hour, not leaving it unsupervised for even a second. I could have missed her! No, that isn't possible. I would feel it, I always do, when she is near. We are bound to each other, after all. She is my soul mate, my dear angel, my nightingale.
I watch her step into the crowd, and naturally, she finds me while scanning the people. She instantly smiles. She has a beautiful smile. I would rather have it for myself, but I know that she is forced to smile for her fans, too. She has to do it; it is her job. But I know that she is secretly only smiling for me even if her gaze doesn't linger on me as she makes eye contact with other people in the crowd. Thankfully, there are more young girls than men. How dare they stand so near to her! She is too pure to be gazed upon by those guys. I don't like it. She should be there for me only. She belongs to me! She is in my heart, and I am in hers; she just has to recognize it.
I wonder if she reads the love letters I sent her. I already sent her a few, but she never answers. Maybe her manager didn't give her my letters. She would have turned away from the life on stage to come to me, after all, if she ever properly read them. She would see my burning love for her and would understand that she is only whole if she is at my side. I should make myself more clear in the next letter, show her how much I care and how much I need her. Yes, that is a good idea.
The bodyguard next to her is new. I have never seen him before, but I don't like his attitude. He is too close to her, standing too near to my love. I appreciate it that he kept that filthy reporter from grabbing my angel's arm when he wanted to keep her from turning away, but I hate that smile she gave that bodyguard afterwards. It was so grateful, so familiar.
Why does she smile at another guy like that? She should be smiling at me, only me! She is mine! But it's not her fault. She didn't get my letters; she couldn't have. She would be searching for me, frantic to meet her love, to meet me. She would never want to part from me.
Perhaps I should head over to the concert hall? I can stand in the crowd of fans and brush my fingertips over her smooth skin like I have already done a few times. In a crowd of lively people, something like that can easily happen, and she will not even notice it. But no, that isn't right. She belongs to me; that is a conclusion I came to the last few days. She should know that it's me who's touching her. I can already see her at my side for the rest of our lives. She will be mine, and I will be hers. She will give me her angelic singing voice, her gorgeous body and her heart. I will protect her from all the drooling men around her. No one shall look at her, no one shall touch her. Only me.
I just have to make her understand that I am the best for her. She will see it the moment she reads my letters, the moment she sees how deeply I care for her. I will have to make a bit more effort before she gets too near to that new bodyguard at her side. He is eying her like an animal that wants to eat her. I will protect her from him, too.
I snap a photo of her as she looks in my direction. What a heavenly picture. My angel in that gorgeous red dress. She will wear that for me, only me, when we are together. Soon. It will be soon. I just have to make her understand that her place in this world is beside me.