| Fan Fiction |
by fairy219
I settle for a cute ivory-coloured knee-length cocktail dress with a matching shawl. Much better than the yellow dress this morning. I prepare a big bag with my jeans and t-shirt. I’m going to hide it in the bathroom closest to the event venue. That way, I can quickly change and leave when the time comes.
Elena is going to cover for me. If anyone asks about me, she would make up different excuses like, ‘oh, she’s in the bathroom’, ‘oh, she’s just taking something from her room’, or ‘she’s over there’ and points to a very far direction and so on. But I told her try not to talk to too many people who may ask about me.
Luckily the lunch is held in the garden. So it’s easier to leave without being notice.
This time I get there sharp at twelve with Elena. I deliberately show my face to as many people as possible including my parents, all of my brothers and sister-in-laws, and all the people close to me so they can’t say that I’m not attending. At twelve twenty, I begin my mission. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. When I get there I open the cupboard under the basin where I hide my bag. But it’s not there!
Uh-oh! The cleaner must have taken it thinking it’s a lost property. What am I going to do? I don’t have time to go back to my room to get clothes. I guess the cocktail dress will just have to do. A little overdressed, but hey, it’s a date.
I quickly walk to the servant gate. Everyone is so busy with the party that no one really notices me. That’s the advantage of being small. It takes an extra effort for people to spot you.
I walk to the bell tower. It takes about two minutes. I see Marco already waiting for me with his bicycle. He’s looking up at the bell tower.
“Hey,” I gently tap his shoulder. He turns around.
“Oh hey, Irene.” He observes me. “Oh wow.”
“Wow what?”
“You look…beautiful.”
I smile shyly. “Thanks. It’s the dress.” I turn around to show him my dress.
“If I knew you’re going to dress so nicely I wouldn’t…,” he looks down at his own clothes.
“No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t meant to dress like this but hey it’s my laundry day, everything else is still wet!” What a good excuse. I’m proud of myself. Hee hee.
“I see,” he nods although he doesn’t seem to be convinced. “Well, where shall we go then?” he asks.
“There’s a nice fish and chips shop close by, let’s go there,” I suggest.
***
A girl with an opinion, I like it. I don’t like the type of girl who always answers ‘up to you’.
“You look too nice to go to a fish and chips shop,” I say. She looks like an angel in her pretty dress. “I should take you somewhere more decent.”
“No, Marco. It’s okay. I really like that fish and chips place,” she insists. “Let’s not go somewhere too fancy.”
“Alright, if you say so. Then hop on! You need to show me the way.”
This time she doesn’t seem to be so scared like the first time. For a princess, I must take my hat off to her. Although she was scared, she never complained about being taken in a bicycle.
***
I’m not so scared anymore this time being on a bicycle. Somehow I feel safe when I put my arms around Marco. Hehehehe. Awww, I think I’m blushing. Luckily he can’t see me.
***
“What were you doing here this morning?” I ask as we walk to an empty table with food on our hands.
“Uhm…I had to attend a party,” she replies.
“Oh, is that why you dress up?”
“Sort of, yeah.”
“But you said it was your laundry day?”
“Well, that, too.”
“Huh?”
“Is it important?” she demands.
I laugh. “Not really. But are you hiding something from me, lady?”
She looks nervous but she quickly composes herself. “I think it’s too early for you to ask such question.” She winks naughtily. “I barely know you.”
So she’s not going to tell me who she really is. That’s fine. I’ll just play along. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“You promise you’d answer my question if I go out with you,” she says after we’re seated.
“What was your question?” I pick a piece of fish from my plate.
***
“What was your question?” he casually asks as he picks a piece of fish from his plate. Hah! He pretends to forget.
“I asked you, as a bartender, how many girls have flirted with you and how many girls you’ve flirted with?” I repeat my question.
He looks up from his plate. “Is it important?” he asks cheekily.
I pretend to be thinking hard. “Hmm.Yes.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I have this feeling that you’re flirting with me. I need to know before letting you go any further.”
***
What a confident girl! She surely isn’t shy to speak her mind. “How can you be so sure?” I ask back.
“Sure about what?”
“That I’m flirting with you.”
“I said I have a feeling. If you aren’t, then that’s fine. My bad.”
I laugh. “Alright, after I answer your question, will you let me know your decision about letting me go further?”
She smiles naughtily. “Maybe.”
“Okay. How many girls flirted with me? Lots. How many girls I’ve flirted with? One.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. So do I pass?”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Well you don’t. You just have to trust me.”
***
I think he has successfully charmed me because I find myself trusting him. Okay, I maybe naïve to trust a stranger so quickly. But I have a weakness when it comes to pretty face and clever words. The way he always manages to counter my questions and comments make me more and more curious about him.
“Well, I guess I have no choice but to trust you,” I reply.
“Very well, then.” He smiles. “So that’s a yes?”
“I guess,” I say nonchalantly.
He laughs. “You’re witty.”
“So are you.”
He laughs again. “Let’s eat.”
“Good idea.”
--oOo--
For the next several seconds, we’re busy with our food. I notice Marco steal a glance at me a couple of time.
“So Marco, you’re not local, are you? “ I ask after I swallow my first bite of fish.
“No.”
“Where are you from?”
“Guess.”
“Can’t. Your name’s Italian but you don’t look and speak like an Italian.” Marco has an exotic look of someone of a mixed decent with his dark hair, caramel skin, big eyes, and a sharp nose.
***
“Araluen. I came from Araluen,” I reply. I’m afraid the mention of my country will jolt her memory about me.
“Where’s that?” is her reply.
I guess I have nothing to worry about.
“It’s an island country in the middle of Indian Ocean. It’s very small,” I explain.
“Oh.” She looks clueless.
“It’s a beautiful place though.”
“I see.”
“Geography’s not your strongest subject, is it?” I tease.
She shakes her head. Her silky brown hair moves with it. “No.”
“So tell me, what’s your ideal guy?” I ask hoping to get some hint about what she really thinks about me.
“Mi...Michael,” she says.
What? I remember what Randy told me about the guy she had a crush on. I’m surprised she tells me that.
“So this Michael guy is your ideal guy?” I want to confirm.
Then I notice she looks a little nervous and pale and her eyes are looking straight at something behind me.
I turn my head to check what it is that she’s looking at.
“Hey, Irene,” said a guy who’s standing behind me. So this is the Michael guy.
Irene seems to be lost of words. She keeps opening her mouth as if to say something but then she closes it again.
“I’m just getting some takeaway,” the guy shows us the plastic bag he’s carrying.
“Oh.” That’s all Irene manages to say.
The guy looks at me unsurely. I’m not so sure what to do either.
“Michael, let’s go!” I hear a girl’s voice from outside the shop.
“I’m coming!” the guy yells. “Uhm well, I’ve got to run. It’s nice bumping into you, Irene.”
Irene doesn’t reply. She just looks straight at him.
“Uhm, well, bye,” the guy says after several seconds not getting any appropriate response from Irene.
I follow the guy with my gaze until he disappears. Well, I’m curious. It seems that Irene does have a crush on him. When I turn my head back to her, she still wears the same expression as before.
“Hello?” I wave my hand in front of her after the guy leaves. “What’s wrong with you?”
She takes a deep breath.
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
She blinks.
“Okay, you’re starting to creep me out here. Was he really a ghost?”
“Ghost of my past,” she finally replies.
“What?”
***
I don’t know why but I tell him everything about me and Michael (minus the princess-commoner thing). I tell him how I have a crush on Michael for over a year and how he finally chose Sarah over me.
“The day I met you at the bar was the day I found out about Sarah.”
“You did look miserable that day,” he comments.
I laugh bitterly. “How silly was I? Thinking that he feels the same way about me when all along he was after Sarah. How could I be so blind?”
“I can’t blame you. It’s really hard to tell. I mean, he obviously knew you like him and he kept leading you on. He should have told you from the beginning that he wasn’t interested.”
“He probably didn’t want to break my heart…”
“How does leading you on not break your heart? It’s even worst!” Marco raises his voice a little. I chuckle. It’s me who’s supposed to be upset. Not him.
“Sorry,” he says. “I get a little carried away.”
I play with the napkin on my hand. “Thank you for listening.”
“Thank you for telling me.” He looks straight into my eyes.
Okay, why is my heart beating really fast? I quickly look down. I can’t stand the way he looks at me.
“So, Irene.” I feel his hand touching mine. “Tell me, do you still like this guy?”
“I…I don’t know…” I honestly don’t. I mean, yes, I talk as if I’m over him. I even told Elena I have a new target. But the truth is…it’s not over yet. I spent one whole year obsessing about this one person. It will take more than just a week to forget about him. When I saw Michael just now, for a second I thought he came for me because he knew this is my favourite lunch place. But when I heard Sarah calling him, the truth hit me. And it hurts. I lost him to Sarah. He loves Sarah. Not me.
I feel tears swell in my eyes. I quickly wipe it away with my hands. But my eyes refuse to dry. I begin to sob.
For heaven’s sake, Irene, stop crying! I was fine for the whole week why cry now?
“I…I’m sorry.” I say in between my sobs. I feel so bad. Marco must be thinking I’m a cry-baby.
Marco didn’t say anything. He just holds my hand.
***
Seeing her so miserable like this, I want to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be alright. But she’s fragile now. I shouldn’t. I don’t want her to like me for the wrong reasons. So I just hold her hand and let her cry.
“Let me take you home,” I say after she’s stopped crying.
“Okay,” she agrees.
***
I’m back at my dorm and I feel like hitting myself. I’m so stupid! Why did I cry? I must have scared Marco away now. We rode in silence all the way here. The only time he said something was when he was about to leave. And guess what he said? “I’ll call you”. That’s the worst thing a guy can tell a girl after a date. It means he doesn’t want to see you again! Arrgh!!
I check the clock. It’s almost three. I need to put Marco and Michael thing aside for now. I need to find a way to get back to the palace before anyone notices I’m missing.
I guess I’ll just take the bus. I grab my purse and a couple of tissue. Just in case I cry again.