🔞5EX: SUSTAINED OBLITERATION🔞

Get a grip!

My long blonde curls are falling forward into his face, our noses almost touching. I gasp at that close proximity to such a beautiful and famous man and sit up quickly on my knees. I find I am straddling Jimmis muscular but thin dancers thighs. He is smiling up at me which shocks me. If someone threw me to the ground and landed their entire weight on top of me I'd be far less happy about it! I notice how one of his front teeth is slightly out of line but somehow that is what makes his smile so beautiful. My cheeks flame with embarrassment at the turn of my thoughts and terrified he can tell what I'm thinking I swiftly push myself to stand, feeling a tiny hint of disappointment when he doesn't stop me.

He holds his right hand out to me from his position on the floor, gesturing towards it with his left hand, inclining his head and raising his eyebrows, implying I help him up from the floor. His tongue is just visible at the corner of his smirking plump lips. Oh no, here come those inappropriate thoughts again!!
I shake my head to remove the visions already dancing their way around in the private cinema of my head. Of course I should help him up, after all he has just served as a human crash mat which saved me from certain injury, but for some reason I'm a little afraid to touch him right now.

"Get a grip!" I berate myself, apparently not as under my breath as I hoped.....

"I beg your pardon?" Jimmi asks with amused shock clear on his face.

"Ffffuu........ erm, 'get a grip'..... you know...... hold on to me, of course I'll help you up, here" I say, extending my hand toward him with what I hope passes as a smile on my lips, silently praying my attempt to cover was successful. He grabs my hand with both of his and I assist him to stand and we are again face to face. He has the most glorious sea green eyes. I can visualise my bikini clad body laying on the soft white sand of a tropical beach, can almost feel the caress of the suns rays on my body, hear the gentle rolling of the waves in my ears and taste the salty breeze on my tongue as I look into them. I realise my staring is rude and break the eye contact. Looking down I find he is still holding my hands between his, gently tracing circles on the back of my left hand with his thumb, and I am marvelling at how soft his skin is! I don't think this move has helped me dampen the rush of blood I can feel rapidly making it's way down to my pelvic region!
Why does my chest feel tight? Why do I feel as breathless as I do after I've run a mile?
He was the one winded in our fall after all.

I raise my head and find he is regarding me quietly from below his glossy black fringe, his full lips curved into a slight smile, only the left side of his mouth raised, laughter in those mesmerising eyes.

"Erm, Hi..... I'm Sydney" I tell him, desperately trying to re-moisten my tongue which is so dry it is sticking to the roof of my mouth.

"Well, thanks for your great act of chivalry. You're my hero!" I tell him awkwardly, raising my right hand to my head in an overly exaggerated salute.

Jimmi throws his head back and laughs loudly, causing a few heads to turn in our direction. I notice the rest of the group has just entered the building and are all stood together watching us inquisitively, their collective focus on our tightly intertwined fingers. I hurriedly pull my hand from Jimmis and reach up to my neck, catching a curl and twisting it around my finger, a nervous habit I have had since childhood. A very visible betrayal of my anxiety levels that I have yet to get under control.
A few people wearing store uniforms are watching us. I can see the questions on their faces. Who am I? Why am I here? Am I with the group?
I assume they decide I must be with the groups fairly large entourage as I am not approached. Maybe our close proximity was considered evidence of our familiarity with one another?
I send up a silent thanks to the God of good fortune and with a shy smile and an incline of my head I turn to retake my seat on the box.

"Sorry Syd, but Im gonna have to ask you to get up. You're sitting on my face!" he informs me with a smirk.

"What?!?" I ask with a little confusion, and a great deal of humiliation.

"The box......... erm, my posters for the fan sign are there, under your, ummmm, your bum"

Phew! A simple explanation that I pray everyone here heard loud and clear. How embarrassing!

"Right!! Yep, ok, sure. No problem. Posters, haha. Sorry! Here" I babble, standing up and sliding the box in his direction.

"Cheers babe! Stick around 'til were done and I'll give you an interview. I'm assuming you're a journo right?! Of course you are. See you later babe!" he says with a wink, a double click of his tongue and a totally naff but cute finger gun gesture. I groan internally but paste a smile that I hope conveys the genuine gratitude and joy onto my face, with a small thumbs up gesture for good measure. I'm such a spazz!

An interview with 5EX! Every journalists dream, almost every female on the planets dream!
That's it, I'm going nowhere now, and getting to kill two birds with one stone. Getting an interview I wasn't expecting, that if I get right and ask enough questions I can probably craft into at least three separate stories, and also the opportunity to study them up close while they interact with their fans, and each other, hopefully giving me insights into their lives that I can use in my books. I'm pretty pumped right now. I've also just realised that I really dislike being called 'Babe'!