I am the Drummer's girl.... Final and completed

Good Company FINAL VERSION

He tilted his head a bit to the side and flashed a beautiful smile "Sorry, is this seat taken? I asked whether I could join you or not, but I guess you didn't hear me" I heard him say. Again, that beautiful smile. 

I could feel myself getting crimson red. Right in front of my eyes stood the most handsome, gorgeous, cutest man I had ever seen in my entire life. I knew who he was. How could I not recognise him? What were the odds?  I must be dreaming. Or having a heat stroke. Or.... damn! that coffee! that must be it! I was hallucinating and saw what I wanted to see? Oh, I knew who he was for sure, buI I did not want him to know that. I did not want to come across as some crazy fangirl. Not while he was standing there in front of me, flashing that wonderful smile, acting like he was just some regular bloke from around the corner of the street. Which, in a way, he was. Except he wasn't. But again, I didn't want HIM to know that. 

So I decided to play it cool, even though deep down inside, I was dying with anxiety. So I looked back at him, and started to smile, ever so cooly. Or so I thought. In reality, I was probably grinning like a mad man, and staring with my eyes open wide. Maybe I was even drooling a bit. 

Before my staring and not saying anything would become too embarrassing however, I actually managed to actually say "S-Sure! No! T-Take a seat! G-Great, yeah... I mean.. yeah." and immediately wanting to punch myself in the face for acting like an idiot. I took a deep breath and decided to start all over, after all, even if he were a famous person, I wasn't going to look and sound like a total idiot. And I could use some company so I didn't want to scare the living shit out of him.My mind, however, was working overtime. "Think of him taking a poo, everyone takes a poo" I thought. "Oh what the fuck, you're not helping yourself you idiot!" I was mentally slapping myself. I was always taught that in case of meeting someone famous you should think of them on the toilet and you would feel better instantly. Instead, I felt like a lunatic now. I shook my head and smiled.

"I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard. I was distracted". I held up my book. He laughed. "That's completely fine with me, don't worry. I already noticed that you didn't see me standing in front of you". Again, he smiled.

He nodded at my -now empty - coffeecup. "Can you recommend me anything?" I chuckled  "Well, I'm not really sure how picky you are, but if high quality coffee is your first priority, then I'd say... tea it is". I put out my hand "My name is Anna". "Nice to meet you Anna, my name is Roger." I held back the urge to say "I know". After all, I didn't want to come across as some kind of groupie, and I remembered how much I always hated those fangirls screaming like crazy, acting like fools. I felt sorry for the artists who had to endure all of that. I promised myself to never, ever behave like that around someone famous. Then again, I never would have thought I would ever meet someone famous, and here I was. Funny how life goes.  He seemed to be a very laid back man though. Wearing a pair of light blue jeans, a dark blue shirt and a blue waistcoat with yellow flowers. His blonde hair was shiny. He wore brown cowboy boots, just like me. They were almost identical looking. It made me smile to myself. "What are you smiling about?" Roger wanted to know. I pointed at our boots. "We are boot-twins" I chuckled. It made him laugh as well. "Indeed we are. Well I guess that deserves a toast, don't you think? Can I get you something else? Glass of wine? Beer?" I looked at my watch. It was half past one. Well, it's always wine o'clock somewhere, and to be honest, maybe a glass of wine would calm my nerves a bit. After all, I still couldn't really understand what was going on, and how the *peep* I ended up sitting at a dodgy looking café in the middle of London, in the company of this gorgeous man who made my insides flutter like crazy. "Oh,what the heck, I'll have a glass of white wine, thank you" I smiled. 

And there we were. We chatted a bit about the weather ( as Brits do), and the quality of the wine (just as bad as the coffee, unfortunately). Still, we both decided it was quite fun to sit at this dodgy café, with no one else around but this bored waitress (she, too clearly had no idea who he was so I decided she wasn't a fan, or she wasn't bothered. Either way, it was fine with me), chain smoking and reading magazines.