~ Absolute Obsession ~

by

C. Elizabeth

Eventually four other ladies joined me. Doing everything that I could to bring myself back to the living, I listened, but when Kathy started reading an article wherein some hunk of a star was being interviewed, I almost tuned her out completely. That kind of stuff never interested me—gossip magazines where the news about celebrities was always twisted to make it “better news”. I couldn’t understand how their fans could think they knew them so well, just from articles and interviews—really, please! How can you know someone through that kind of medium? The star’s answers were probably honest when they were being interviewed, but the answers would have to be guarded; one slip up and it would be mayhem in the papers. Looking around the table, I sighed. So that’s what I was going to get...an article about some hunk star who I probably had never heard of before and would never give a second thought to... What in heaven’s name made me think there would be some intelligent, worldly conversation amongst them? Exasperated, I listened anyway, because going off into my own little world wasn’t an option.

As Kathy continued reading the questions and answers, something about the article caught my attention; the hunk star seemed to be wording his answers carefully...very carefully. It was obvious that he was content being an actor but definitely was not content with the attention it brought. I got the distinct impression that he was very unhappy. Every so often the ladies at the table would “ooh” and “ahhh” and small conversations would break out, but my thoughts were on the young man and how he almost seemed tortured in his newfound fame.

“By the way, who’s being interviewed?” I asked, a little embarrassed.

“Michael Terrance,” Kathy said, looking over the rim of her glasses, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh! Who’s Michael Terrance?” I replied, completely ignorant.

Kathy practically jumped out of her seat, shrieking at me. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know who Michael Terrance is? Have you been under a rock or something?”

Pretty much, I thought, chuckling to myself. Her reaction didn’t bother me; I just wanted to know who the unhappy person was. “No, I don’t, who is he?”

“He’s that gorgeous British actor that made the movie last year from the book Only Her,” she said a little more calmly but with a smirk on her face, not hiding her contempt. “I saw you reading the book—have you never seen the movie?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my eyes from revealing anything—little did she know how many times and how often that book played in my head, in a twisted sort of way. “Actually, I finally watched the movie last night. It was good.” I found myself trying to fight the overwhelming urge to go to my world.