Creepy Love

February 14th. Valentine's Day.

Saint of Catholic Church, Bishop and Martyr, Patron Saint of Lovers. The whole world honours Him, since about 1500 years, and celebrates His immense power since at least more than six centuries. Why? Because the human mind is so fragile and hungry for sureness and attention that can't give up the need to rely on poetic illusion of a miraculous saint who takes up its existence, otherwise ephemeral.

"Thanks Chaucer!" - Francesca exclaimed, throwing away way the magazine she was reading, lying quietly on a chair in the relax room during her coffee break.

She was a woman devoted to rationality, most of the time, but reading silly articles that, with historical details, cheerfully testified that had been the father of English literature, Geoffrey Chaucer, to have given rise to that stupid anniversary, simply made her mad. She had nothing against the poor Saint, although she wasn't a woman of faith. But she felt totally unacceptable they dared to mix the profane, all those sugary notes, those useless gifts, those mushy chocolate hearts, with the sacred, the Great Poet, whose masterly pen, quill of course, had given birth 'The Canterbury Tales' and 'The Book of the Duchess'! She trusted so much more in the pragmatic theory that the valentinian rite was nothing more than another ingenious idea of the medieval church to deprive of all sexual connotations the pre-existing celebration of Lupercalia, a pagan festival surely more carnal than romantic.

"Hey! What did that magazine do to you? Did it just reveal to you that the Berlin Wall came down?"

Francesca was never amused by the sense of humour of Mariah. But she was the colleague with whom, willingly or unwillingly, she was working more closely together. At the moment, she was leaning against the doorway of the room and stared at her amused, through the eyes of those who knew too much to be deceived.

"What did you expect to tell me that?" - The woman asked, eaten alive with curiosity.

« That's it! The old woman burst. Sooner or later it had to happen. Too much botox and too many hair dye ...! » - Francesca thought, not understanding the meaning of her question.
Tell her what? That she hated Valentine's Day or that would have been Chaucer's follower on Twitter, if he had had an account? And then, what the hell Mariah could care?

"What was I supposed to say?" - She asked, casually.

"Only two words: JARED … LETO ...!"

Francesca changed color immediately, as if a little bit distracted painter had painted a coat of white on her face. And how the fuck did this witch know about Jared?

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, baby!" - Continued the hag. - "Your Valentine sent you a gift." - Francesca instinctively stood up, heading for the door. - "They just brought up from the concierge. It's on your desk."

The girl looked out into the hallway, craning her neck to her table. A strange shapeless heap, covered with a transparent sheet and sealed with a satin bow like an Easter egg, made ​​a fine show of itself. She walked slowly, pretending nothing, while other colleagues looked at her warily mixed with pure amazement. Fran received a gift on Valentine's Day! That was one thing that no one would have thought to assist in this life.
Francesca raised the bizarre object, and still without uttering a word, she returned to the room, where, in spite of herself, Mariah was still standing. She unwrapped it and the casing revealed a kind of massive and indefinite blob, bright red, with strange geometric signs above.

"Nice!" - The colleague said, quite convinced.

"Nice? … Yes! If only I know what it is!" - Francesca replied, turning over that thing in her hands. She had not even realized what it was done with, but it was not exactly light.

"Let's go! Don't you know?"

The girl shook her head in disbelief. Why? Did she know what it was?

"Creeps? ... " - Still dark for her. - "Bartholomew Cubbins?"

Here's the light! Now she was beginning to remember! It was one of those funny characters of Cubbins. Of course! She had a good laugh thinking about it. Just a psychopath like Jared could come up with such a gift!

"Ah! Here we go now, baby! "

Mariah's eyes roamed satisfied between the young fellow and the puppet still clutched in her hands.

"Okay! I got it ... I'm sorry, but what do you know about these things?"

"Do you forget that I have a fourteen years old daughter ... even though I know that no one would ever say that!" - Yes, yes of course! If she believed it! - "I don't even remember when I began to live practically with the pictures of this man hung a little everywhere ... and his music ... his interviews ... his films. Not that I mind, mind you! He's just so cool! Super cool! Congratulations, Francesca."

The girl shuddered at the thought of dirty dreams that Mariah certainly had about Jared.

"Get out of your head that you're thinking about. It's just a gift. Also rather bizarre, I must say. From a friend."

"Of course! A friend." - The woman nodded sarcastically, as she rummaged in her designer pantsuit pocket. She pulled out a card, decorated with symbols similar to those on the red puppet.

"Uuhgg uuhgg ..." - Mariah cleared her throat, before start reading. - "… « EggEye is looking for his Valentine! Don't leave him alone! With love, Jay! » ... I wonder who would be ... this Jay?"

She went back to fix her, with a sardonic smile on her lips. Francesca grabbed the note, re-reading it at least fifty times in less than ten seconds.

"Thank you for respecting my privacy! You're a real good friend." - She concluded at the end, in a sniffy tone.

It was logical that she didn't consider her as a friend, and it was equally logical that, in any case, Mariah would never have suffered for it.

"Instead, you should really be grateful." - Urged the woman. - "Would you have preferred that the note ended up in the hands of some indiscreet?"

Yes! Because Mrs Confidentiality had spoken instead!

Francesca' s good sense, however, advised her not to go over properly.

"Okay! Thank you, Mariah!" - She surrendered, softening her voice as much as possible. Thing really difficult to do in that circumstance. "... I trust that this thing will remain between us?"

"But of course, my darling!" - She calmed her down, and probably her little brain was already busy trying the sensational sentences to spread the news on her own blog. - "Now that we've cleared up, tell me how you know that sex bomb?"

Francesca felt herself on the ropes. Certainly she wouldn't tell her the details of their ... how to describe it properly? Acquaintanceship? But even she had to tell her something. At least to satisfy her curiosity a bit.

"I ran into him, about an year ago. When I went to New York for the documentary of George Rees I worked on ... " - Mariah followed her report carefully, accompanied with ample nods. - "... We had just a little talk. Then ... it happened that we met here in London, accidentally and ... "

"... And you two had just a little sex!"

"Mariah! Stop it! I gotta tell you in Swahili … we're just friends? Jared Leto is just an eccentric person who loves to be around different people ... it makes him feel at the center of the universe ... He's a rockstar! ... That's why he does shit like this." - And she pointed to the red puppet, still perched on a chair.

Mariah went back to observe her colleague better. Yes, she was younger than her, though certainly she didn't have her charm. She was a smart girl and some might even find her cute. But really, thinking about it, one man as Leto could not find her interesting even under torture. He was accustomed to an higher-level kind of chicks, for sure.

"Okay! Just friends ... I believe you." - The woman agreed. - "Anyway, be calm! It will be our secret! Even if you don't go to bed with him!"

Francesca coughed suddenly, threatening to choke. But with the reflexes of a jaguar, pretended to have a hair in her mouth.

"Are you okay, honey? ... I said, do you think you have the chance to see him again? I am sure that my Danielle would jump for joy if she could have his original autograph, maybe with a little dedication for her!"

That's it! The price of silence! Francesca smiled to herself. For a moment she feared the worst.

<<<< >>>>

"How much idiot are you?" - Shouted the girl on the phone.

Perfect! Not bad as greeting.

"What have I done this time?" - Asked Jared a little bit upset.

He had already called her that morning to be sure Francesca was in town.
Remembering the mess of missed crossings that time when they had both, and at the same day, the brilliant idea of getting a mutual surprise, he in London, she in Los Angeles.
From that moment, when he wanted to see her, took care to study her movements in advance. Stupid, but no fool!
However, she was quiet on the phone in the morning. So now what had changed? He remembered suddenly his Valentine's Day gift, laughing without control.

"What the fuck are you laughing at? ... How did you think, first of all, to give me a gift like that, and then delivering it at my office? Christ ..., Jared! I work in a television editing. Have you forgotten? You have no idea ... I had to sweat blood to justify it. And ... that note? It ended up straight in the hands of Mariah, better known as 'the voice of London'! You've got luck to get away with just an autograph for her daughter to shut her up ... she could also require a payment in kind! From you, of course!"

Jared let her get it off her chest for a good five minutes. She really seemed a mad bull.

"You didn't like my Valentine EggEye, didn't you?" - He asked finally, with his ​​best persuasive voice.

He waited a few seconds for Francesca's answer. Was she too excited? Or didn't she know how to tell him that his gift made ​​her suck, without hurting him?

"Of course I like it!" - She seemed sincere, even in her hesitation. - "Although I admit that I don't understand what it is!"

Jared grinned again. - "He is one of the Creeps by Cubbins! Do you remember I show you the drawings?"

"Yes, yes, I remember ... but with this strange shape!"

"In the sick mind of the creator it should have been a heart ... but apparently I'm not so good as I thought!"

Francesca was still speechless. She stumbled into some funny babble that Jared didn't understand, before wordlessly completely.

"Francesca! Are you there?"

"A heart?" - The girl chuckled nervously. - "I'd mistaken for a poltergeist! I told you ... you need a good therapist!"

Jared deliberately ignored the reference to his artistic abilities ... and mental faculties. He noticed her embarrassment and it had struck him pleasantly. He loved to surprise her and unfortunately it didn't happen frequently.

"So! Like it or not?"

"Now that I know what it is ... I love it!" - He felt a shiver down his spine. - "Although it weighs like a washing machine! What the hell is it made with?"

Jared called himself idiot mentally. He had not thought that Francesca would carry it home alone!

"It's clay! Covered with a layer of modeled paper mache. Does it weigh so much?"

He heard the girl brightly bickering with someone.

"Sorry Jay, ... I'm on the bus ... and there's little civilian people who doesn't appreciate the artistic volume of your work! What did you say?"

"Forgive me, Fran! I didn't mean to create you all these problems. I should have deliver it at your place ... but I thought that since you don't have a concierge, it would have made ​​a bad end. But I screwed up, now I understand."

Probably Francesca noticed the disappointment in his voice. - "Jared! It's a wonderful gift and I'm glad you did it for me, really. It doesn't weigh too much ... not even. It's just that I like doing a little stories, you know. Rather ..., won't your girlfriend be upset about it?"

Jared nearly choked with his saliva.

"My girlfriend?" - He asked shocked.

"Maybe I should say your babygirl, given the age. You're posting everywhere photos of her for days. Your fiercest echelons are convinced that you've finally decided to get your head together!"

Francesca spoke with her usual lightness, as if it really didn't matter to her. It was true that Jared posted on his websites some photos of a young model, in the days close Valentine's Day. She was a friend. Who he had briefly explored earlier, sexually speaking. But he didn't see her for a while. He dusted off those images just by chance, he often did so, or maybe, unconsciously, to divert attention from his actual sentimental interest.

"They're just a couple of pictures! Are you jealous?" - He asked hopefully.

"Me? Jealous? About a model ... in her early twenties, with two legs long like wind turbines, who waddles around you, covered only by two tiny pieces of duct tape? Why should I?"

Jared laughed, clearly pleased.

"Hold on, Jay! I arrived at my stop. I must go down."

Some moments of silence. Chatter of people in the distance. Background noise of the bus engine that stopped and started again.

"Here I am! I'm back! Uuh ... I'm sorry, but I must leave you now. I just saw my boyfriend waiting for me at the bus stop. Do you know him? ... Michael Fassbender? Teutonic, statuary, manly and highly-gifted. I'll introduce you, if ever we will meet again."

Jared laughed even harder. She was the funniest woman that he happened to know, for too many years. He laughed until he saw her turn the corner. So ended the call.
While Francesca stopped suddenly, seeing him there again, sitting on the sidewalk step, in front of her door, like that night many months ago. She still had the phone to her ear, and probably was still speaking. Although obviously Jared couldn't hear her anymore. He saw her moving her lips excitedly. Then got to meet her and she joined him halfway, finally putting the phone in her pocket.

"Hello Francesca!"

He freed her from the encumbrance of the puppet, placing it immediately on the ground, and gave her a kiss. A good kiss, sweet, excited.

"Now I know for sure! You're completely mad!" - She whispered, brushing his cheek with her nose. - "When did you land?"

Jared hugged her, tightening her waist. - "This morning! This time it all went off smoothly. I told you that when I put my mind on something, I have to get to the bottom."

"I understand! So your purpose in life would be to give me a heart attack? What a pity! I'm still so young ... and then, just now that I'm beginning to enjoy myself."

He gave her another quick kiss, grabbing her arm. Then, picking up the casing with the other hand, dragged Francesca towards the door.

"I don't want to kill you! ... But I love to leave you breathless, so much." - He told her, giving her a mischievous look.

Francesca pulled the keys out of the bag to open the door, but closed it instantly.

"Jared … " - She turned, flustered. - "I have no Valentine's Day gift to give you!"

He stared sullenly for a moment, then his face relaxed into a wide smile.

"Well! I am sure that you'll find a way to be forgiven!" - And he opened the door with a push.

<<<< >>>>

Francesca hardly opened up one eye to control the alarm clock on her nightstand. She blinked slightly, being able to read perfectly the time. 10:13 a.m.!
Hey, it seemed that Jared's "magic wand" really had miraculous powers! It recovered her from myopia! Probably its core had a feather in Phoenix too.
She smiled only for a split second at her own joke, before calling herself idiot. Like a fool, she had simply forgotten to take off her contact lenses.
She was lying on her stomach and one Jared's arm was blocking her against the mattress. The little prince was just sleeping deeply. Quite unique event. Practically, it happened every 'discharge' of a Pope ... aaahh aaahh! Holy God! She was really in a good mood that morning.

Did it happen to everyone the feeling of having an urgent need to move, just when it's impossible to do that? Francesca was victim of that feeling at that precise moment. Her toes were tingling. Her neck was sore. She didn't almost feel her legs. And this not only for the intense physical effort she shared with Jared! She had to get up from the bed or she would lose her motor skills forever.
She bent one knee, very slowly, and, equally slow, grabbed the edge of the mattress with one hand. Secured the grip, she began to take off with a slight movement from under his arm, slipping in a single bound on the floor. She got up immediately to control the situation. Jared's arm was quietly lying on the mattress and its owner continued to sleep peacefully. Mission accomplished!

When Francesca came back from the shower, a few minutes later, he had not moved even an inch. She had an irrepressible urge to put a mirror under his nose to test if he was still breathing, but the prince anticipated, emitting a graceful grunt before plunging back into the sleep of the just.
Francesca stared at him for a moment in amazement, shaking her head. Gorgeous! There was no word more appropriate to describe him. Holy Crap! One only person could not be so devastating! It wasn't democratic!
She picked up her laptop from the floor and sitting on the chest beside the edge of her bed, began to play with her computer.

It was probably the pat on the keyboard or the sound of moans of disapproval that occasionally Francesca issued, without realizing it, to wake up finally Jared from his sleep. He felt the lack of a body under his arm, in the exact spot where instead remembered there should be one. He turned his head around, getting the eyes used to the light, and saw her sitting at the edge of the bed, legs crossed, leaning over her laptop. She was wearing only a bathrobe and shower gel vanilla scent of her hypnotized him immediately, forcing him to pull himself up out of the covers and crawl to her.

"Good morning!" - He greeted her, kissing slowly the spot between her neck and collarbone, over the edge of the sponge.

A so good morning could have bring back to life one of the Egyptian mummies in the British Museum.

"Did I wake you up?" - She asked, closing her eyes to bask best of his touch.

"Yeahhh!" - Answered the infamous man, with an innocent voice and pouting like a three t
years old kid. "I felt abandoned ... under the sheets ... all alone!"

"Ooohh! Poor puppy!" - She turned away, returning to beat on the keys of her computer, nonchalantly.

Jared fell down on the mattress astonished, studying her for a few seconds. And he smiled again, to her back. Only from her, such a reaction could appear completely natural.
He grabbed the extreme edges of the quilt and covered himself and her with that, wrapping her body like a koala.

"What are you doing?" - He asked, starting again to kiss her, where he was interrupted.

"No big deal! Just a little ... Jared's Check."

He opened his eyes, looking up at the monitor. - "A Jared ... what?"

The screen was on a facebook page that bore his name, certainly created by some group of echelon. At the bottom, in the taskbar, noticed his Twitter page and various blogs too.

"Sometimes I do a check to see what it said around about you. Maybe you don't know it, but your fans are really cunning! They are able to decrypt any crap that comes out of your mouth and give to it a perfectly logical meaning. And anyway ... I wanted to control if that Harpy Mariah has kept her promise."

"And she was of her word?" - He was rubbing the tip of his perfect nose all along the line of her neck, which would have made difficult for anyone even the simple task of breathing.

"For now, … yes!" - Francesca stopped, letting go a little but intense moan. - "... But you're never safe with her ..."

She finally closed the laptop and turned to him, hooked to Jared's body, placing between his legs while he covered her with the quilt.

"So, you keep an eye on me?" - He whispered, tasting the vanilla savour of her skin. - "Are you afraid that I tell you lies, when we are on the phone?"

The fingertips of Francesca began to tease him, running along his back, awakening his senses in a heartbeat.

"More than anything I'm afraid of finding some paparazzi outside, one day or another ... or some terribly jealous girl in love!"

"We were careful! So far everything went well ... much more than good!" - He pulled her even closer to him, making her twist her legs around his waist. - "No matter how smart you think they are ... for them you don't exist!"

"I don't like when you do that!" - She said all of a sudden, in a serious tone, stopping the game of her fingers on his back.

That woman was far too fickle at times! Right now that the thing was evolving in a way ... very interesting. - "What have I done now?"

"See how are you? ... You treat 'em like stupid. It's quite logical they will end up getting tired of you!"

Now Jared was really shocked. This was quite new! Tired of him. And, maybe for the startling revelation or maybe because Francesca's hands had stopped teasing him, the growing excitement that was about to seize him, died away completely.

"What do you mean? Tired of me?"

She looked at him with compassion mixed with tenderness. Almost like a mother who has to reveal to his child that Santa Claus doesn't exist.

"Many of them feel cheated ..."

"By me?" - Jared was more and more confused, but Francesca really seemed to know what she was saying.

"By your attitude! I'm not an echelon, this is true, but it's so obvious the importance that has for them what you and Shannon have created. They really think about you all as part of their family. Personally ... I find it's a wonderful thing ... but also dangerous. For you. You have responsibilities towards them. Instead ... lately ... I think they're just feeling used."

"Used? But ... but ... I ... we try to involve the echelon as much as possible, to keep them closer ... we are a family!"

Francesca put her hand on his cheek, caressing slowly to calm him down.

"Did you ever read what they write about you?"

Jared shook his head. If he had begun to read everything that was circulating with his name on it, he would end up in a psychiatric clinic in less than a month.

"I'm not talking about gossip! But ... the stories that your fans write about you."

"They write stories about us?"

"Fuck Jared, but where do you live? On internet they write stories about anyone, even about the Queen Elizabeth! Anyway ... you should read some. Apart from the literary skill, they are very indicative about the level of your liking. Lately ... you're dropping a little bit down, my darling!"

Him Jared Leto. The Divine. Or rather, the DivaH. Dropping down?

"You switched from romantic hero of fairy tales and prince charming to serial killer, rapist, pedophile or simply the biggest jerk, in a nanosecond. Their fantasies are inverting very quickly about your brother. Maybe he seems steadier!"

Steady? Shannon Leto? But the world was really turning upside down!

"Are you afraid of them?" - She asked him, all of a sudden. Jared didn't answer. The 'no' he wanted to pronounce choked in his throat.

"You should not! Yes ... maybe some girl is a bit bolder than normal. But when you're fifteen you do a lot of crap. Especially for your idols. That's the best of adolescence, remember? There will always be a way to protect your privacy without excluding them from your life. I think they have the need to feel you near."

It was a strange speech to deal with, at that moment and in that position, that induced him to do anything but philosophize on the issues of life.

"And what crap would you have done when you was fifteen? I'm curious."

Francesca smiled, a little embarrassed. - "One time, me and my friend Babs, we placed for a whole day in front of Slash home, here in London. And when he finally came out ... oh God, but do I really have to say it? ... I'm so ashamed... " - Jared begged her to continue only with his ​​eyes - " ... he signed an ​​autograph on our buttock ... one each!"

Both laughed like two kids. And Jared instinctively placed his hands on her ass. As if to reaffirm the possession of it.

"I never thought that someone like Slash was your type."

"Actually, I've always liked men as him. Dark, wild curls and with the look of rotten inside."

He opened wide his eyes, surprised by her statement. And he, then?

“Well, you ... are ... the only exception ... "

She took his chin with one hand, squeezing it vigorously as you do with a baby's chubby cheeks.

"With this little angel face ... and with your satanic something else!"

Jared broke free of her grip and kissed her, holding her firmly. He could feel the arousal back bully and he was sure he couldn't hold back much longer.

"What are you going to do? ... I mean with your echelon?" - She asked, taking a breath but resting on his shoulder.

"I bet you have any advice for me!"

"Do not even think about it! This is something between you and them ... well, I knew that I would have screwed with my own to tell you those things. "

But Jared knocked her down, with his puppy dog eyes and his adorable pout.

"Okay! But just a couple of suggestions."

"Shoot, baby!"

"First of all, if you decide to tweet with them, avoid answering badly to the questions you annoyed. It's not nice!"

"Got it, Mommy." - Small kiss on her lips. - "Go on!"

"And also avoid all those 'I love you too', like Michael Jackson style. I think they're out of date. They know you love them, but if you say so, they may feel that you are taking the piss out of them."

"All gone!" - Another kiss.

"Second: the photos. Are you forced to post all the time images of rubbish or drain or other crap? Or you do it because you enjoy it?"

"But my photos are so cool!" - Jared retorted, annoyed, but was immediately blocked by the frown of Francesca. - "All right! I will limit myself with pictures of manhole covers." - The next kiss was a bit longer and slightly he sucked her lower lip.

"And last, but probably the most important of all: shut up with your 'SOON'! I've read about girls become old and creepy waiting for a Jared Leto 'soon' to be realized. You are evil when you do that! You know?"

An grin appeared on the lips of Jared. "Is that all?"

"That's all! Treat 'em good. Be sincere as possible. And don't let 'em down. I am sure that you will not regret. You really have a big and beautiful family!"

How Francesca could have understood all those things about him, and about them, in a few moments, let him totally disarmed. He kissed her once again. More in depth. Becoming one with her ​​skin with his tongue. Then he pulled away to look into her eyes.

"I think you're right. Maybe ... I should be more honest with them!"

"Fine!" - Francesca whispered, still dazed from the last kiss. - "Good idea."

Suddenly, however, he saw her paralyzed and terrified stare into his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

“I think they will be happy to know that I'm fine now ... and I'm happy!"

The panic went to keep company with terror in the eyes of Francesca.

"You said before that they wish I finally decided to get my head together! What's wrong if I content them?"

"Okay! Then you can make ​​a picture with that doll going shopping with her at the supermarket!"

Jared smiled at her. She looked like a little girl behaving like that. Francesca didn't want to get out of their magical bubble.

"I don't want a doll! I want a real woman! Who knows how to listen. And that I adore to listen to. Who slams my faults in my face, without fear, and who's not afraid if it's me to criticize her. Who makes me laugh and feel good ... like no other. And I'm really lucky. Because I'm holding that woman in my arms right now."

He noticed her eyes soften at those words, even if her worry was not at all erased. And his gaze came to stop on the heart-shaped EggEye, that sat on the console. He kissed her again, tasting her gently.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Francesca!" - He whispered to her ear.

"Jared! Do me a favor, please! ... Hang yourself!"