Eternally Seduced(86)

"Then who could it---"

Music played ever so softly in the background, but its distinct notes were more than familiar.

Saffi's jaw dropped. So did Brittany's. They exchanged glances. And then---

Bounce. Bounce. Bouncebouncebouncebouncebouncebounce---

"OH MY GOD!" Brittany and Saffi shrieked at the same time. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD---"

Powerful beams of light exploded from overhead, all directed at the  center of the stage where one man stood. He had longish blond hair, a  classically beautiful face, and the most amazing body, all sculpted  muscles with not even a fraction of an ounce of fat.

Saffi should know since that was her lover on stage.

"Staffan Aehrenthal in the house, everyone!" the leader of Celsius roared.

Saffi died.

Wait, she just didn't die. She died and went to heaven with those words.  She really did, even if it was just a second. Celsius  –  her favorite  band  –  performing with her favorite rock star Staffan Aehrenthal on one  stage!

She sooooo died.

Staffan slowly looked up, and the crowd went wild as the cameras zoomed  in on his face, flashing that delicious image on the giant screens  flanking each side of the stage. His fuck-me hazel eyes were as potent  as it ever was, promising the most illicit things that would have a  fangirl screaming in ecstasy.

And so they screamed … and screamed and screamed as Staffan started to dance the way only he could do.

Although the majority of the world's female population knew him as  Sweden's #1 Sex God, the 10,509 girls crying inside the stadium knew he  was so much more than that. He was Staffan Aehrenthal, Europe's badass  version of Justin Timberlake  –  the most versatile rock star that ever  lived.

Saffi's throat went dry as she watched Staffan dance on the stage, his  every move graceful and seductive. His lovely dark voice mesmerized  –   the male counterpart of a siren, if there ever was one. His voice  tantalized. With each word that came out of his mouth, it beckoned his  listeners to come closer, to inhale his scent, to reach out and feel the  impossible hardness of his body.

"YOU ROCK MY WORLD, STAFFAN!" Saffi shrieked the words so loudly she  became lightheaded. But she didn't care. It came with the job, so to  speak.

And then---

Staffan's eyes were suddenly on her.

She could have been imagining it. She must have been imagining it. But  Saffi knew she wasn't. There might be thousands of girls in the crowd,  many of them prettier and sexier than she was, but this was Staffan, and  he was the man who was in love with her.

Those fuck-me eyes were laughing at her. But they were also loving her, seducing her, cherishing her-- –

Oh, she just died all over again.

"SCREAM FOR ME," Staffan invited his fans.

Of course they screamed. They screamed and screamed, screamed with all their hearts, and Staffan smiled, taking it all in.

"Now, I'm going to sing for you."

Saffi and the other fangirls had to scream again after that. They just had to.

Eyes widened, lips parted, and throats went dry as Staffan started to  sing. Unlike most of his peers, Staffan was dressed stylishly  –  a black  silk polo with the first few buttons undone, a leather belt with a gold  Chanel buckle, and the most amazingly sexy pair of silver jeans  complemented by gleaming mahogany-colored boots. The entire ensemble  should have been outrageously fashionable, but all it did was just make  Staffan more breathtaking.

His every word, every look, and every move whispered the same thing. Love me.

And so the crowd did, crying out his name over and over when his song ended and darkness reclaimed the stage.

Someone was tapping Saffi's shoulder from behind.

She turned, aware that Brittany was doing the same, and gulped at the  sight of a man built like an ox wearing a disapproving look on his face.

"Uh-uh-uh," Bob said warningly, his fingers clamping around Saffi's wrist when she immediately tried to escape.

"Is he your dad?" Brittany whispered.

"He's … worse," Saffi mumbled.

Bob scowled. "You lied to us, Saffi."

Persnickety pearl danio!

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She tried twisting her wrist away. "I'm just, umm, going to the restroom---"

Bob shook his head again. "No can do, Saffi. The boss' orders," he told her.

"The boss?" Brittany's confused words reminded Saffi that she was  technically not alone. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE A STUDENT!" Evil glances were  aimed their way as the other girls hissed at them to keep quiet.         

     



 

"Sorry, sorry," Saffi mumbled, knowing it was her fault. This was a  concert, and rule #1 for every fangirl was to not make any distracting  noises whenever an artist was performing on stage. She tugged at her  wrist, but Bob's fingers remained an unbreakable cuff that kept her  imprisoned.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to Brittany. "I really have to go."

Brittany's face fell. "But why? We were having so much fun---"

"I'm sorry." Regurgitating requiem shark, she was such a bad friend to do this to Brittany. "I just have to go---"

"What boss is he talking about?"

Her mind shying away from the truth, Saffi heard herself saying, "It's a  recent gig, really top-secret and high-profile stuff." Ah, damn. There  went her promise never to lie again.

Bob was gaping at her, but Saffi pretended not to notice.

Brittany's eyes widened. "Oh."

Bob slowly turned to look at Saffi's friend. Were these kids for real? She bought Saffi's lie  –  for fucking real?

"You're auditioning for a music video, aren't you? For Staffan Aehrenthal?"

The words made Bob want to smash his head against the wall. How the heck  did these girls survive in the real world? Saffi was one of the  smartest persons he knew, but somehow she just didn't think like a  normal person did and it seemed this one was exactly the same.

Saffi nodded eagerly. "Yes, that's it. So, like, they totally want me in the video because of my dancing skills---"

Bob barely managed not to roll his eyes.

Saffi ignored that too. "And I told them, sure, I'd be more than happy  to do that, you know?" She looked at Brittany apologetically. "So---I  have to leave. You know how it is."

Brittany nodded understandingly. "Of course. We owe our loyalties to our favorite stars first."

"Exactly," Saffi said, but she still looked a little uncertain. "Are you sure you'll be okay alone---"

"She's not going to be alone," Bob said gruffly. "The boss thought of it." He jerked his head to the back.

Saffi and Brittany looked at the direction where he was pointing.  Saffi's eyes widened before she started waving enthusiastically. "Alan,  hi!"

Alan Carson walked towards the two girls even as he cursed Staffan  Aehrenthal in his mind. How in the world did babysitting a fangirl get  included in his job description? But then, he hadn't had the guts to ask  Staffan that. He still felt guilty about the role he played in Staffan  and Saffi's breakup  –  and the damn rock star knew it. Worse, he never  hesitated to take advantage of that guilt.

Serves him right to have Sapphire as a girlfriend, Alan thought. Saffi  was a nice girl and all, but she would always be a handful since her  extremely smart mind operated on a different level than the rest of  them.

Alan's handsome face was all smiles when he reached the trio. He greeted  Saffi pleasantly then focused all his attention on the girl next to  her. "Hi," he said, easily falling into the role of a guy who might or  might not have an interest in the girl he was talking to. He had this  role down pat, having needed to exercise it for years as a closet gay.

Brittany's eyes widened. "A-aren't you one of the permanent back-up dancers for Staffan Aehrenthal?"

"Yep," he said. "I'm hoping I can be a suitable replacement so Saffi can leave? Staffan sent me here to keep you company."

Brittany looked at Saffi, impressed. "Wow, Saffi. I didn't know you were that good a dancer!"

Alan was incredulous. Saffi had used that lie again?

Saffi did her best not to turn red. Carefully keeping her eyes averted  from her friend, she said, "Err … yes. So...you'll be okay with him?"

Brittany glanced at Alan shyly.

Alan winked. "We'll have fun, don't you think, sweetie?"

Brittany's eyes were dazed. "We will."

When she and Bob were near the exit, she asked, "Do you think I should tell Brittany Alan's batting for the same team?"

"What I think is that you have a greater problem to worry about, and  that's making sure that Staffan isn't going to skin you alive for this  latest stunt."

Saffi cringed. "Can't you be more optimistic?"

"I can do optimistic."

She started to smile.

"Staffan won't shout at you in public," he told her affably. "He'll just be furious with you in private."

Saffi's smile disappeared. It was times like this she sort of thought  she was better off being just one of Staffan Aehrenthal's fangirls.