A famous unreciprocated love

« Stop looking at him Faye, it’s a waste of time ! ». That’s what my friends Rosie, Effie and Georgie have been literally yelling at me for about 10 minutes now. « Girls I can’t. He is the one. I know it. Plus, I saw him glancing over my direction. It’s a sign of the times! Please girls tell me that you got it, right? ». Yes, I may have been delusional when I shouted them back this way too cliche sentence. But I knew he had been glancing over my direction multiple times by now. I couldn't make this up. And yes, I can be way too optimistic sometimes. « Oh my god Faye, please tell us that you are drunk! You can’t be serious right now. He is just one of those famous pop star who doesn’t even give a care in the world about people like us, you know the normal ones ». Said Rosie trying to get her third « bloody Mary » drink since we got here. Inside of me, I kind of knew that she wasn’t wrong but at the same time, trying to reach for the unreachable wasn’t the stupidest thing to do. Well, in my case it actually could I guess. After all, I’m just both a way too overweight optimistic and a way too unexperienced 26 years old woman. But mostly, way too unlucky regarding my looks to get to the point that, me Faye Rose would manage to get involved in a relationship with Harry Skanders himself. I don’t want to sound pathetic or pitiful but sometimes you cannot deny the truth, a truth you have to deal with every single day of your life. « Faye to Earth! Earth to Faye, hello! » said Rosie, my best friend yet to be the wife of one of the most well-known neuro surgeon of Los Angeles. Rosie wasn’t just a lucky girl, she was one of those blessed with the « flawless option » women. She was so beautiful and yet so unaware of it which made it harder not to despise her sometimes. God, I sound so jealous although she is one of my best friends. Oh did I tell you that she was extremely smart on top of that? I remember that day when we were 19 and she called us at midnight urging Georgie, Effie and I to come at her place. Thinking she was dealing with a serious issue, I made my way to her place, stressed as hell. Only to be greeted by the happiest human being I had ever seen : « Faye I got into Harvard. I got my acceptation email! Oh my gosh my Faye you don’t know how much I will never forget this day. Like ever. » I didn’t forget that day either, since the next morning I received my Harvard application answer and it was a no or more like a polite « oh hell no ». I got to study French law in a public university in France just because they needed a specific quota of foreigners in their university. Anyway. I suddenly felt bittersweet and decided to ignore Rosie’s and Effie’s worried looks and took another shot of this new drink that everyone had been talking about but whom I had zero clue of what its name was. « You know what, I think you should go talk to him ». I almost spat my drink all over my overused jean when I heard Georgie saying this. « Are you insane? You know what’s going to happen. Plus, she’s going to be a mess when this guy is going to say a brutal no to her ». Said the heartless version of Effie who was more focused on texting with her new beau than enjoying this girl night out. Oddly enough, her words didn’t affected me as much as it should have. I was kind of okay with her thinking that he would obviously refuse to go out with me. Even though, I try not to, I’m constantly self aware about my weight, a weight that polite people would describe as « strong » (« oh what a strong woman you are ») but that I would actually describe as « obese » on. Those IMC calculator websites would surely agree with me on that fact. But still, under my friends opinion, I would wear dresses, skirt or whatever would wear a fit woman. I don’t really know why, even though I just wear these on our girls night out. On my daily life and being a social worker in a well know I would never dress like that ever. That night I had opted for a white t-shirt and some overused jean with those kind of shoes you only wear once since they were high heels and high heels are what I like to call : serial foot killers. Every sain woman knows that. My long black hair were tight in a chignon whereas my make up certainly looked faded because of the heat coming out of this nightclub. And god knows I sweat way too easily when other perfect girls need to google image the word « sweat » to know what it is. « She’s right Georgie, I’m just going to stay here staring at him for a little and I swear I’ll forget about him tomorrow morning » . I said suddenly being self conscious of who I was. The three of them stared at me, full of remorses as if they just did hear my inner thoughts yelling at me : « you’re going to make a fool of yourself. Do not go. He’s going to make fun of you ». « No Faye, life isn’t about dreaming it’s about conquering your aspiration in life. So, if right now your aspiration in life is to go talk to this pop star guy and ask him to go out. Then go. Just enjoy the moment. And if he’s too dumb to realize how amazing you are then come back to us, we will leave as quick as possible to get ice cream and make fun of him and his corny songs for the rest of the night ». Said Georgie number 2 » (this girl must live with two personalities) her hands squeezing real hard my shoulders, gazing at him as if she was trying to hypnotise me. For once, I stopped overthinking and with one last glance at my friends I headed to Harry’s one and only direction (no bad joke intended). The closer I got, the more I could notice how good looking he was in person. His hair, his style, everything seemed to suit him so well that I felt my heart skip a beat knowing that in a matter of seconds I would be talking to him. And even though I looked awful today, Georgie’s number 2 wise words made me keep on walking towards his way. When I awkwardly sat down next to him he immediately looked at me, a smile on his gorgeous face and said with his beautiful British accent: « Hey there! » When I unexpectedly felt like he actually was enjoying the fact that I eventually came up to him I managed to pronounce those few words. Not understanding the reason why my brain decided to go on a break : « Good.. Good mor..ning » I swear I wanted to slap myself real hard. How could I be so stupid? My « good morning » must have made such an unforgettable first impression that he began to smirk. And at that exact moment all I wanted to do was to get out of my body and run as fast as possible away from him and my craziness of the night. « Well, that’s a new. What’s your name darling? » His eyes were now scanning my whole damn not perfect body and I suddenly felt like sweat was coming out of my forehead. « My name is Fa- … » « I’m sorry I can’t hear you well here, it’s too loud. Listen, would you mind helping me with something? Could you please tell your friend Rosie that I miss her, and that from here, she still looks like a goddess. »  Hearing Rosie’s name and realizing that he did not even let me finish saying what my name was made me loose my sanity. He gazed at me, almost worried but all I could do was staring at him as if he just yelled at me to leave him alone. This whole situation made me understand that either I could tell with self confidence that his behavior was unacceptable or, flee as fast as possible and do the only thing that would calm me in such an humiliating situation. Guess what I choose to do : « Su…re I’ll t..tell her ». With those last few words, I stood up and could immediately feel the silent tears falling down my cheeks. « WAIT ! » I heard him shout with his sumptuous British accent.