Status: Ongoing
Ain't Love Grand?
Obsession
As much as I loved seeing Alex and his friends receive recognition for their work, and grow as a band, expanding their fanbase globally... part of me also hated it to a certain extent. With the success and the slight level of fame they'd achieved came attention. Lots of attention. Mainly from girls who found the guys hot. That was all well and good, as long as they didn't get too creepy with it. There were always the odd few who took it a little bit too far, though. I didn't mind people sending letters to Alex, or emails, or giving him presents. Hell, even the bra and panty throwing didn't bother me. It was the slutty girls who tried to get him to sleep with them that REALLY bothered me.
He was good about it, though. He always made sure to let them know that he was happily taken. That didn't stop them still pushing for it, though. He was a "rockstar" and he should have been enjoying all of the perks that came with such a moniker. Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Groupies were all part of the parcel... or so these girls seemed to think. Every show, there was a new group of whores throwing themselves at him and offering themselves to him on a plate, even as I stood by his side. They were obsessed with adding Alex Varkatzas to the list of men they'd managed to get inside of them.
It became their obsession to sleep with him, and my obsession to keep it from happening. Every night I'd latch myself to his arm as he stood signing autographs, occasionally kissing him on the cheek or running my hand through his hair; sending silent signals to anybody who was around that he was MY man. It began to annoy him, and I know it did, but it annoyed me to see those sluts hanging around him as if he was some single guy hanging out at a bar.
"You don't need to be by my side at every second," he laughed one night as we sat on the bus after another episode of 'glare at the whores until they feel uncomfortable'. I'd perfected my 'death stare' over the months and was pretty proud of how quickly the message had started to convey to MOST of the women who tried it on with him.
"I know," I nodded, resting my head on his shoulder and linking my arm through his. "I just hate it when they're hanging around you like vultures around a carcass."
He frowned, absently running his fingers through my hair. "But you trust me, right?" He asked, though I was sure he already knew the answer to that. I trusted HIM, it was the seductive, sweet-talking groupies that I didn't trust. "You know I'm not gonna go off with anybody else."
"Of course I trust you," I told him with a little laugh, to let him know that the idea of me not trusting him was absurd. "I just think it's easier to let them know that you're not interested before they even try. It saves everybody from wasting time." I smiled, leaning up some and planting a soft kiss to his jaw.
Nodding his head, he let out a little sigh. "Yeah, but it makes you look clingy...and like you're showing me off," he said.
"I like to show you off," I giggled, lacing my fingers with his. "I like to let people know that you're my man, because I love you."
"But it makes you look insecure," he went on with another sigh following his words. "You may not see it, and I know that you're not, but that's how it looks to people. Like... you're afraid to let me out of your sight or let go of my hand in case I run off with somebody else."
I grunted and let my head fall back onto his shoulder, frowning. Was that really how it looked? "That's not it, Alex," I mumbled. "I just... It bothers me when those skanks are all over you. I get jealous."
"And that makes you insecure," he quipped. "You've got nothing to be jealous about. I love you, not some nameless whore in a mini skirt. Just... back off a little bit, yeah? Let me mingle with the fans without being my babysitter."
I opened my mouth to say something, to argue his point, but I didn't bother. I was offended that he saw it that way, but I could see his side, too. Not all of the fans were desperate, sleazes, and those who weren't deserved to get to chat to him without me looking over his shoulder. "Fine," I conceded, snuggling against his side, "if that's what you want." I didn't like it... but I was lucky enough to be able to travel with them on the occasions that I did and I didn't want to jeopardise that and risk him preferring to leave me at home when he toured. I knew he wasn't stupid enough to throw what we had away for a one-night stand and I didn't want to push him away.
He was good about it, though. He always made sure to let them know that he was happily taken. That didn't stop them still pushing for it, though. He was a "rockstar" and he should have been enjoying all of the perks that came with such a moniker. Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Groupies were all part of the parcel... or so these girls seemed to think. Every show, there was a new group of whores throwing themselves at him and offering themselves to him on a plate, even as I stood by his side. They were obsessed with adding Alex Varkatzas to the list of men they'd managed to get inside of them.
It became their obsession to sleep with him, and my obsession to keep it from happening. Every night I'd latch myself to his arm as he stood signing autographs, occasionally kissing him on the cheek or running my hand through his hair; sending silent signals to anybody who was around that he was MY man. It began to annoy him, and I know it did, but it annoyed me to see those sluts hanging around him as if he was some single guy hanging out at a bar.
"You don't need to be by my side at every second," he laughed one night as we sat on the bus after another episode of 'glare at the whores until they feel uncomfortable'. I'd perfected my 'death stare' over the months and was pretty proud of how quickly the message had started to convey to MOST of the women who tried it on with him.
"I know," I nodded, resting my head on his shoulder and linking my arm through his. "I just hate it when they're hanging around you like vultures around a carcass."
He frowned, absently running his fingers through my hair. "But you trust me, right?" He asked, though I was sure he already knew the answer to that. I trusted HIM, it was the seductive, sweet-talking groupies that I didn't trust. "You know I'm not gonna go off with anybody else."
"Of course I trust you," I told him with a little laugh, to let him know that the idea of me not trusting him was absurd. "I just think it's easier to let them know that you're not interested before they even try. It saves everybody from wasting time." I smiled, leaning up some and planting a soft kiss to his jaw.
Nodding his head, he let out a little sigh. "Yeah, but it makes you look clingy...and like you're showing me off," he said.
"I like to show you off," I giggled, lacing my fingers with his. "I like to let people know that you're my man, because I love you."
"But it makes you look insecure," he went on with another sigh following his words. "You may not see it, and I know that you're not, but that's how it looks to people. Like... you're afraid to let me out of your sight or let go of my hand in case I run off with somebody else."
I grunted and let my head fall back onto his shoulder, frowning. Was that really how it looked? "That's not it, Alex," I mumbled. "I just... It bothers me when those skanks are all over you. I get jealous."
"And that makes you insecure," he quipped. "You've got nothing to be jealous about. I love you, not some nameless whore in a mini skirt. Just... back off a little bit, yeah? Let me mingle with the fans without being my babysitter."
I opened my mouth to say something, to argue his point, but I didn't bother. I was offended that he saw it that way, but I could see his side, too. Not all of the fans were desperate, sleazes, and those who weren't deserved to get to chat to him without me looking over his shoulder. "Fine," I conceded, snuggling against his side, "if that's what you want." I didn't like it... but I was lucky enough to be able to travel with them on the occasions that I did and I didn't want to jeopardise that and risk him preferring to leave me at home when he toured. I knew he wasn't stupid enough to throw what we had away for a one-night stand and I didn't want to push him away.