Authors: Marian Tee,The Passionate Proofreader,Clarise Tan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Romantic Comedy
Staffan pulled the girl close for a scorching-hot open-mouthed kiss.
No.
No, please, no.
But it wasn’t a dream. Or – it was a fangirl’s dream. It used to be her dream until she had fallen in love with Staffan.
Saffi broke into a run when she saw Staffan leading the girl off the stage, leaving his fans screaming deliriously in his wake. She didn’t care who she was shoving out of her way. All she knew was that she had to get to him before he did something they would both regret.
“Staffan!” she screamed just as he walked towards the hall leading to his dressing room. She would die before she’d let them go in there together. She knew what could happen inside Staffan’s dressing room and she just couldn’t---
“Staffan, please!”
Staffan stiffened at the broken sound of Saffi’s voice, but he forced himself to ignore it, telling himself it was all part of her act.
“Staffan!” She sobbed his name out this time, willing herself to run faster but the few feet that separated them seemed like a huge gaping cliff that she could never cross – not without his help. Saffi knew Staffan had heard her but he still didn’t look her way. Instead, he nodded at his security personnel while talking to Bob, who immediately shook his head.
Staffan spoke again, and this time Bob became stoic looking.
“Staffan!” She was just a step away this time, and she reached out, her hand shaking, only to find the entire security force blocking her away, a grim-faced Bob appearing behind them.
Saffi couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Bob?” she asked shakily.
“I’m sorry, H. The boss says you’re not to approach him while he’s…” He swallowed.
“Bob, you must have misunderstood,” she whispered. “Please, Bob, I just need to talk to him.”
He shook his head.
“Bob,
please
.”
“Don’t make me say it, H. Just let things lie low.”
Dread skittered across her spine, but she still forced herself to meet Bob’s gaze. “Make you say what?”
Bob was the first one to look away. “The boss says you can approach him if you’re willing to…” He suddenly cursed. “Don’t make me say it, H.”
“Bob, please, I need to see him, I’ll do anything---”
“He says you can get in but only if you’re willing to do it with him…and the other girl.”
Her mind reeled, the vicious reality behind those words making her heart ache even worse than her broken ribs.
This was a test. This was Staffan pushing her away. This was another risk she had to take.
She closed her eyes, praying for strength, surrounding herself with the warmth of the memories she shared with Staffan. When she opened her eyes, she was able to smile at Bob. “Take me there then.”
Bob cursed once more. “Are you serious? I’m not kidding---”
“Neither am I,” she said firmly. When she’d get to his dressing room, Staffan would be waiting for her. He wouldn’t be doing anything to the girl. He would listen to her, and everything would be all right again.
Realizing that she was not going to budge on this, Bob reluctantly ordered his security team to let her through. “This is not going to go well, H,” he muttered as they entered the backstage area. He stopped walking when he noticed how much difficulty she had moving. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, not knowing that her face had gone white with the pain she was forced to endure with every step she took. She supposed she needed to see a doctor right away, but
this –
what she could have with Staffan – was more important than a few broken ribs.
“I just had a little accident. You know how clumsy I am,” she lied.
Bob reluctantly resumed walking. “You will regret this, H. It’s not too late to turn back---”
“It will be fine, Bob.” She added simply, “I love him.”
Bob wanted to kill himself after that. “H, listen to me. This is not what you want to see. He’s in a black mood for some reason and---”
They stopped in front of Staffan’s dressing room door. “Bob,” she said very softly, “Be honest with me. When you see Staffan and me together, did you ever think I was special to him?”
The optimism shining in Saffi’s gaze was almost ethereal, and he mentally cursed his employer for doing something that was sure to take those stars out of Saffi’s eyes. This girl
was
special---in every way, a breath of fresh air that no evil could pollute.
Unable to deny the truth, not when Saffi was looking at him so expectantly, Bob admitted grudgingly, “Yes, you do seem special to him.” He frowned then, adding warningly, “But tonight’s different. He’s gone crazy.”
“He doesn’t want to get hurt again after what happened. I know that. We all know that, and I’m willing to wait until he’s ready to trust again.” She smiled at him. “Wish me luck?”
“I’ll even give you my lifetime’s worth if it will help, H,” he said as he slowly opened the door.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped past Bob.
“Staffan---” Her voice broke down.
No, please, no, this couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.
But it was.
Staffan was only wearing his pants, his chest laid bare, shirt thrown on the floor---together with the rest of the other girl’s clothes. She was moaning softly in Staffan’s arms, obviously in the throes of pleasure as Staffan fucked her with his fingers.
His head twisted over his shoulder, his smile blindingly beautiful but now it didn’t leave her warm. It made her cold instead, and she limped back from the sight of it, clutching her side as her entire body ached in pain at what he was doing.
“Care to join us, H?”
She shook her head wildly. “Stop it, Staffan---” To her surprise, he did stop, but when he turned around, Staffan slowly brought his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them dry.
Saffi moved another step back, her side hitting the door as she stumbled and twisted halfway to avoid looking at Staffan. She cried out, that split-second contact between the door and her ribs sending a wave of shattering pain to her body. Even so, it was nothing compared to the hurt that Staffan was inflicting on her – was still inflicting with every second he allowed the other girl to stay in the room with them.
“What’s wrong, H? This should be normal procedure for you.”
“No. It’s not. So stop it. Leave her.” She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to see anything. But Staffan was suddenly there, forcibly pulling her hands down. Eyes open again, she couldn’t help seeing him half naked---and seeing the other girl completely bare.
“Pretending to be shy, baby?” he jeered, his skin crawling at utter loathing with how great an actress she was. How could he believe her hurt over what she had seen when she could do the same to him with Carson?
“Staffan, I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby, and I love her, too. We’re going to love each other so fucking hard tonight it will be a night you’ll never forget.” And then he was walking back to the other girl, leading her to the couch and pulling her down with him. She fell onto his lap with a giggle.
Saffi covered her mouth as a silent scream of agony escaped her, and her body started to shake in bewildered pain and jealousy as Staffan, his gaze never leaving hers, started to play with the other woman’s flesh, fingers tracing the lines of her sex before sinking into her.
The other girl’s moan was a knife into Saffi’s heart.
“Stop this. I don’t care why you’re doing this but stop this, please---stop it this moment and I’ll forgive---”
“Forgive?” Staffan repeated coolly.
She froze at the strange note in his voice. It almost sounded like hatred.
“You
forgive?
You’re forgetting yourself, H. You’re just my groupie --- a woman who’s proud to call herself my slut. There is nothing to---”
She didn’t wait for what else he had to say, knowing that Staffan was right. Outside, she pushed past a frowning Bob and an anxious-looking Alan, her heart so leaden with hurt she couldn’t even cry.
She finally got what she wanted.
She was no longer a fan girl but a bona fide, true blue, 100% genuine groupie.
@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.”