by Marian Tee
She finally got what she wanted.
She was no longer a fan girl but a bona fide, true blue, 100% genuine groupie.
Chapter Eleven
@saffi_m, Twitter:
@JRaybourne I miss you.
The commotion outside his dressing room was fucking hard to ignore, but Staffan did his best – until he realized it wasn’t Saffi causing it but someone he wanted to beat into a bloody pulp.
“Fuck you, Staffan Aehrenthal, come out and face me like a man!”
It was the goddamn prick. Alan Carson. The man who took his Saffi away.
He managed a smile for the girl he had taken to his dressing room, whose name he had already forgotten and whose touch still left a bitter taste in his mouth. “I’m afraid there’s trouble outside. Would you do me a favor and stay here until I come back?”
She nodded, stretching on the couch in an obvious attempt to seduce him.
Staffan forced himself to keep a steady pace as he walked out of the room, but the moment he saw Alan Carson waiting for him at the hall, surrounded by the other backup dancers, Staffan immediately charged for him.
One punch was enough to send Alan flying.
The other man coughed out blood, and the sight was surprising enough to momentarily get rid of the rage-filled haze that blinded Staffan. He fucking hadn’t hit the other man that hard to have him coughing out blood, dammit.
Even though he was near to exploding with the urge to kill the other man, Staffan clenched his fists in an effort to keep himself still. “There’s nothing we need to fucking fight about, Carson. I’m done with…” Saying her name – even if it was not her real one – was like acid on his tongue but he made himself speak. “I’m done with H. She’s all yours if you want my leftovers.”
Staffan was stunned to see Carson turn almost purple in rage, launching himself towards Staffan with a howl. Easily dodging Carson’s flailing fists – the fucking idiot hit like a girl –he use one quick upper cut to knock the man back to the ground.
“OUT! Everyone fucking leave the two of us alone. Bob, guard the door!” Staffan kept his eyes on the groaning man on the ground. Another dancer –it was Bradley again – had knelt next to Carson, muttering something in an anxious tone.
Something didn’t feel right about the two, but he was just too angry to care. When Bob saw the last man out before leaving the hall himself and closing the door behind him, Staffan looked back at Carson. “What the fuck is your problem?” It was difficult to look at the other man without wanting to beat the shit out of him. All he could see was Saffi kissing Carson, when he had also been in the ground.
Staffan frowned at the memory, and the feeling that nothing was what it seemed became even stronger. A chill came over him, like someone walking – no, crying – over his grave.
“How could you do that?” Alan asked bitterly, unable to keep his voice from shaking as he stared up at the man who Sapphire loved so much she had gambled her pride countless times for the right to be with him.
Donovan shook his head. “Alan, don’t tell him anything---”
Warning bells played in Staffan’s head and his fingers instinctively went up to rub his temples, as if it could ward off the pain he was sure would hit him in a while.
“No, it’s not right that she’d be hurt this way again!” Alan tried to stand up on his own, but it was impossible. The beating he received from his own father, combined with Staffan’s punches, made every inch of his body scream with pain. But he knew that it would be nothing compared to how Sapphire must be feeling right now.
Loathing rose inside him as he met the wary eyes of the hotshot rockstar before him. Alan used to think so highly of Staffan Aehrenthal, but this went beyond the pale. “She’s in love with you,” he spat. “You know that, don’t you?”
Staffan’s face hardened. “Love me so much she couldn’t help kissing you earlier?”
Donovan went white. “Shit.”
Alan said the same thing in his mind, stunned at the implications of Staffan’s words. He had told Donovan what happened so he wasn’t worried about what his lover was thinking. But none of them had counted Staffan seeing the confrontation between him and his father, much less realize how Staffan could have misinterpreted everything so dreadfully.
“It’s not what you think,” Alan said tiredly. Now, his head was hurting more than his body. What a bloody mess everything had turned out to be, and it was all because of the goddamn lie that he was living.
Staffan cursed. “Do you take me for a fucking fool to think I’d believe you after what---”
“What you saw,” Alan cut him off tersely, “was Sa---”
Staffan had an insane impulse to punch Carson again and for the simple fact that he knew Saffi’s true name.
Alan corrected himself, “What you saw was H saving my life.”
“It just keeps getting better,” Staffan drawled out sarcastically.
Alan gritted his teeth. “She was saving my life because she saw my father wanting to kill me and did what she could to stop it.” He took a deep breath. “My father wanted to know if I’m gay.”
Staffan went completely still, his agile mind able to connect the dots in a painfully quick sequence. Suddenly, everything that happened rearranged itself like puzzle pieces forming a new picture.
“No,” he whispered.
Alan took Donovan’s hands. “And I am. We both are. H agreed to keep it a secret, and when she saw what was happening earlier---she pretended she was my girlfriend.”
Staffan bent his head as the enormity of what he had done crashed on him. Oh God. What the fuck had he done? Suddenly, all he could hear was Saffi calling his name, pleading him to stop, telling him she loved him.
She had loved him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and now all he could see was the broken look in her face as he had forced her to watch him play with another woman. Something occurred to him, the odd way Saffi had held her body, and his head shot up as he demanded hoarsely, “Saffi? Did she get hurt, too?”
Alan flinched at the memory of his father’s kick landing on Saffi’s side and her cry of pain.
The look in the other man’s face filled Staffan with a savage need to hit Carson’s father, especially when Carson revealed, “She may have a broken rib or two.”
He gazed at Bob and then the doorway leading to the stage, torn between his desire and duty. Finally, he told his bodyguard, “Find her. Do anything – everything – to find her.” Fear struck his heart at the thought of Saffi walking alone, hurt in every way. He would do everything to win her back, fucking beg on his knees, shave his head, and cut his hand if he had to. But first he needed to know she was safe and cared for.
“She loved you, you know,” Carson said behind him.
The words whipped his heart because he knew he didn’t deserve them.
Oh God, what had he done?
An hour had passed and Saffi was still nowhere to be found. The heavy look on Bob’s face when he came back a few minutes ago was enough to tell Staffan that the other man’s search had been futile.
Desperate and terrified that something had happened to Saffi, Staffan decided to end the ruse of not knowing who she was by calling her. Explanations could be made later – right now he needed to ensure that she was all right.
“Come on, Saffi.” He waited tensely as he kept getting a busy signal from Saffi’s phone. A part of him knew it wouldn’t – couldn’t – be this easy to get a hold of Saffi again. Why should it be when God gave him his own angel - his very own Alice, who said her Wonderland was any place that had him in it – just for Staffan to fucking throw it away?
Outside, the screams were getting louder and more frenzied.
His PA said nervously, “Staffan, you have just a minute---”
“I know that,” he gritted out. “Just give me that goddamn minute.” He redialed her number one last time, and his world shattered when an automated voice told him that the phone was out of coverage area.
Staffan closed his eyes.
Saffi.
He saw her so vividly his heart stopped beating, and he had to deliberately stop his hands from reaching out to touch her.
How could he have hurt her so goddamn much?
~~~
Anorexic arrowana. Back-flipping bangus. Chocolate-loving cod. Drunk duckbill. Epileptic eel. Farting frogfish. Goddamn giant sea bass. Heartbroken haddock---
Saffi’s mind came into a painful standstill at the words, the game that she had loved playing with herself ever since she was a kid suddenly losing its ability to comfort her. All these years, her mind had been both her bane and her haven. It made Saffi different from the rest, but it also came up with the most astounding ways to protect herself from other people’s scorn and cruelty.
But now even that was gone, Staffan taking away the one thing Saffi could always count on to keep her sane.
Slowly, she bent her head down and cried.
The sobs were quiet but heart-wrenching, the sounds paining everyone who heard it. And everyone in Steel March’s private flight crew did hear it and wholeheartedly hated whoever it was that had broken Saffi’s heart.
When the plane started to descend, Saffi forced herself to stop crying, desperately wiping the tears away as she fixed herself. Any one of her family could be waiting for her, and she didn’t want any of them to see her this way. Saffi had caused them so much hurt already and it would kill her to turn them into a laughingstock once again.
The entire crew discreetly kept their gazes off Saffi’s face as they bid her goodbye and escorted her of the plane. The person waiting for her at the foot of the wheeled staircase made Saffi catch her breath.
Steel, thank you.
Everyone thought she was the smartest one in the family, but she wasn’t. Saffi had always known the honor belonged to Steel, who never failed to be several steps ahead of everyone with his cunning ability to read and predict other people’s thoughts and actions.
And because she was his baby sister, Steel had known how she would have hated any one of them – even Steel himself – see her like this. He probably knew it the moment she called him and said ‘hello’ in a tear-clogged voice.
She reached the end of the steps and finally lifted her gaze.
Looking back at her with unreadable eyes was a tall dark-haired man, his handsome face showing no clue to his thoughts. His expensive black suit fit his lean hard body to perfection, and he wore it like he was born in it. And he was, in a way, for he was the bastard son of a prince.
When Jeremy opened his arms, she didn’t hesitate at all.
“It’s going to be okay, Saffi. I’m here now.” His lips touched her hair as she sobbed in his arms. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”
Chapter Twelve
@staffan_aehrenthal, Twitter:
It’s true. I’m taking a break after my US tour. And yes, it’s also true. I’m taken.
Just two concerts left, Staffan told himself over three weeks later. Two more concerts left and the US leg of his tour would finally end and he would be free to go to Saffi and beg her to take him back.
His chest hurt. It always did every time he thought of Saffi in any way, the things he used to say or do to hurt her now shredding his own heart.
A quiet knock sounded on his door before Bob walked in. The other man had resigned on the night Saffi left, but he had given in to Staffan’s quiet request to continue working for him when Staffan admitted that he had fucked up with Saffi and intended to have her back.
Staffan’s smile twisted, remembering how Bob told him in angry disgust the way Saffi had pleaded to let her in and asked him with heartbreaking hope if he thought she and Staffan were “special” together.
God.
Special was such a weak word to describe the kind of girl Saffi was. There was no one in the world like her, and he would not stop at nothing to have a chance with her again.
“The gym’s ready,” Bob said.
“Thanks, Bob.” Nowadays, he worked out three times a day, not just to stay physically fit but also to keep himself from going insane at missing Saffi. Thoughts of Saffi, of how she was doing and if she would ever forgive him, kept him awake. But because he knew the people who paid to watch his concert deserved more from him, Staffan decided to use heavy workouts to literally knock him out in exhaustion. It was that or take medications, but he didn’t want to risk doing something like Spears on Valium on stage.
The gym was completely empty by the time the elevator took him from the penthouse to the tenth floor. He nodded at Bob, and the other man immediately left him alone. He would stand outside to ensure that no one would interrupt while Staffan was inside.
Staffan set his iPad on the stand while he configured the treadmill to an 8.0 speed for a brisk walk. As he started to warm up, he unlocked his iPad, which then took him immediately to Saffi’s Facebook page. He refreshed it, but nothing new came up. It had been inactive ever since Saffi left him, and it was the same thing with all her online accounts.
Could she have figured out that he knew H and Saffi were one and the same? Or was there a worse reason for this painfully empty silence? Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go after her, and goddammit he wanted to. He hadn’t fucking wanted anything so badly in his life.
But a part of him remembered her words not so long ago.
“I’ve decided to let you know that I am your greatest treasure, Staffan,” she had told him impishly that one night when he had given her the treasure chest and she so wanted to give him a gift in return.
The impish smile had entranced him so much he had started taking off her clothes as he teased, “Really?”
She giggled while trying to dodge his hands, which had already managed to unbutton half of his shirt off her. “Yup. Because I’m not just your G. I’m a half-breed.”
He had raised a brow at that. “A half-breed?”
“Yes, because I’m also one of your fangirls! And we fangirls always believe in you, always want you, always love you. So I don’t mind if you do stuff for fangirls. Just one small thing from you is a huge thing for us.” She paused, her worried eyes suddenly seeking him. “But just no kissing stuff, okay?”
The memory sharpened the pain of loss inside him, honing it like the finest blade as it reminded Staffan how much he had lost the moment he pushed Saffi away.
He closed the iPad and started to run. In his mind, he was running towards her, but she was always too far, always out of his reach.
Saffi, Saffi, please, baby, please take me back.
~~~
“You’re d-daydreaming again,” Mary told Saffi, startling the other girl. It was nine in the morning, and as Saturday mornings went, the library was blessedly empty and quiet, with only a bare handful of students turning in. She and Saffi loved going to the university library at times like this – or at least they used to. Now, Mary couldn’t help but think that Saffi might be feeling bored.
Mary gazed at her mentor in concern. Saffi was normally very bubbly, something that had surprised her at the start since the other girl looked so feminine – so like Mary, actually. But whereas Mary was really shy and soft-spoken---mostly because she had a tendency to stammer when she was nervous---Saffi was quirky and fun once she was with people she was completely at ease with.
But Saffi had changed, ever since she came back from Staffan Aehrenthal’s concert. In the past, Saffi used to have stars in her eyes every time she had something new to talk about her number one celebrity crush.
Saffi straightened in her seat, blinking at Mary’s soft and bemused tone. She couldn’t believe she had fallen asleep in the middle of tutoring Mary. And it happened to be about the most recently discovered fish species – another member of the Cyprinidae family, this time found in the streams of Turkey. Researching about new fish species was one of her favorite subjects in the world so Saffi herself had no idea how she could have fallen asleep just like that.
“Are you okay,
Saffi?”
Saffi nodded. “I’m just…worried about my thesis---” She stopped when she heard Mary let out an uncharacteristic snort. Saffi smiled in spite of herself. “Did I just hear my super ladylike---”
“Here,” Mary said, smiling back, relieved to see Saffi happy again, “I’ll do it again if you like.” And so she snorted another time.
Saffi’s laughter had always been musical, unlike any other sound Mary had heard really. Perhaps what made it special was Saffi’s genuine love for life, her unique ability to seize every moment and turn it into something magical. But now Saffi’s beautiful laughter was tinged with melancholy.
“Oh, Mary.” Saffi didn’t know if she wanted to laugh some more or start to cry. She felt like she was going to burst if she didn’t talk to someone and just get everything off her chest. “I’m scared.”
“If it’s anything I can help you with, I will.”
Saffi forced the words out. “I think…I think I’m pregnant.”
And then everything came out.
The talk helped Saffi a lot, enough to help clear her thoughts and do what she was supposed to do. She took out her phone. “Jeremy?”
“It’s a wonderful surprise to hear your voice, Saffi.”
The gentleness of Jeremy’s voice almost undid her. “Jeremy,” she whispered again. “We have to talk. Please come over today?”
“Of course.” The swiftness and firmness of his reply slightly eased the pain inside her. “I’m on my way now.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything for you, Saffi.”
After ending the call, she brought her hand to her chest and kept it there, using it to calm her suddenly racing heartbeat. What she was about to do might be irrevocable, but she had to be strong. She wasn’t going to be a fool the second time and make the same mistakes she did.
This time she was going to be strong on her own, without needing anyone’s help.
This time, she had finally grown up.
