Daniella
Michael and I pull our bags through the airport. I have to say, one thing I did not miss was the fans constantly stopping us for pictures everywhere we go.
Don't get me wrong, I love the fans. They are people just like me and Michael. It's just, there are a lot of them. They make it hard to get anything done when they swarm you. You can't move anywhere. You take a picture and think you are done but another one moves in.
It's quite scary actually.
Finally breaking away from the heard of people, Michael and I quicken our pace to get to the terminal faster. Neither of us want to take any more pictures. If I had to bet money, I would bet one million dollars we took over a thousand pictures just this morning.
I would so win that bet.
I would be swimming in loads of money by the end of the night.
A group of teenage girls tug on my arm, pulling me backwards. "Can we get a picture with you and Michael?" They ask all at once.
I nod and Michael leans over to be in the picture.
That's the first time anyone has stopped me to take a picture. Usually they stop Michael and ask me to join along. This time Michael had to join along. That makes me feel really, really special.
We pose for a few pictures, making sure to please the fans.
They pull out a pen from one of their bags and hands it to Michael. He signs an arm, a book, a laptop case, a luggage bag, and one eager girl's chest.
The last one bothered me a little but I won't say anything. He signs boobs and I pose in tiny bikinis. It's all part of the business. Neither of them are ideal but hey, life isn't ideal either.
Then the girls turn to me. "Can we get your autograph too?"
My jaw nearly drops in shock. They want my autograph? Mine? Really? This is incredible.
"I have all your magazines in my room. I love you." One girl says before pulling me in for a hug. I drop my bag and hug her back. This is my first real fan. I mean, all those sleazy guys who have my various bikini shots posted up on their walls to make out with when they are alone, they count. But this, this is a true feeling of happiness.
She actually like, worships me or something. It's a strange feeling but I like it.
"You and Michael are my OTP." She squeals as I sign under Michael's name on her laptop case. "You are like, totally endgame."
I smile and thank her. But, what on earth is an otp? I assume it means something good because she said it in a nice voice. I will have to look that up later when we are alone. I don't want to seem stupid in front of the fans.
This is exciting. I have never been this popular before. Not even when I was actively modeling for my company. This is crazy. Crazy in a good way though. I love that people can relate to me.
Two teenagers walk up right after the group of girls leave and cling to Michael's arms. "Can we get a picture, Mike?" One girl asks. Michael nods and looks over to me. "Oh, but not you. Just Mike. You can take the picture though."
My smile drops as she hands me her phone. I raise my arms. "Smile." Gee, I hope I don't accidentally drop her phone on the ground...
Everyone else who wanted pictures wanted me in them too. They all wanted the both of us.
I am jealous that they only want pictures with him. But, I have to calm myself down a bit. I am not the famous one here. Michael is.
Back home I was the most famous thing they had ever seen. But here, there are a ton of celebrities. I'm at the bottom of the totem pole here.
Here, all I am is Michael's girlfriend. Well, fiancé... once the news breaks.
And I have to be okay with just being that.
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Disconnected
FanfictionIn which a beautiful model is hired to help a band's image by pretending to be dating one of them.