My Fangirl Story

“…Holy Holy Holy…” Justin Bieber’s holistic voice cooed into my left and right ears, making my eyes close in a sort of reverence towards his masterpiece of a song. How someone I had never met could have so much effect on my mental health, I didn’t understand, but I was grateful that I got to know him because I knew beyond a reasonable doubt that his music had saved me.

I stumbled upon his Purpose album in December 2015 when I went to visit some friends for a small get together. I was going through Becky’s playlist albums when I fell upon Justin Bieber’s name and discovered the blessed album. I played all eighteen songs on repeat throughout the entire party and downloaded it on my way home. I especially resonated with Life Is Worth Living, Purpose, and Love Yourself. It was almost as if he came to me to ask what I was going through and turned my life story into songs.

I breathed the song in and out my nostrils, relishing the fresh air, and smiled. “I love you, Justin Bieber. You will forever be my forever love.” It was more than a confession for me. It was a declaration of love, pure love built on the sincerity of heart. “Not like what I shared with that demon. Argh! I can’t believe I remembered him again. Great work Omo, way to go Champ!”

I slapped my left palm on my forehead, sighed deeply, opened my eyes, hissed heavily, and stood up from my bed to go do my laundry. He always found a way to steal into my thoughts.

“The same way he stole into my heart.”

The corners of my eyes threatened to release a stream but I forbade them. “No more rivers Omo, you have torn more than enough for that degenerate.”

Laundry took an eternity for me to finish but I persevered and emerged victoriously. I finally had an entire wardrobe of clean clothes at my disposal again, I knew deep down that my next three outings were gonna be graced with fire outfits.

I stretched in various directions and wormed my way back into my bed, the pillows were already giving me a slithery call. I obliged and sunk into the foam, my white duvet pulled up to just below my nostrils, picked up my tab, and began to stream the latest episode of my Korean drama. They had left me restless the night before, unsure of whether she would go with the main character or the second main character.

I genuinely preferred the second guy and inwardly wondered why they always had to end up with the main guy that appears after the second one. They always leave the nice one to go for the ‘bad’ guy that eventually changes because of them but what they don’t know is that that does not work in Nigeria. A Nigerian casanova doesn’t just change his leopard spots because he met a girl that refused his advances. If he appears to do so, he is most definitely cheating on you, mark my words.

I learned the hard way, real-life relationships are nothing like the Disney or Korean series we watch. I wish I was born there though, I also would love a chance at true romantic love; a love so pure, you needn’t worry about the pressure of having sex with someone when you aren’t ready because he feels a relationship isn’t solidified without having sex.

I settled in deeper into my all too soft mattress and turned to my side to reminisce my tragedy of a romance story. It wouldn’t be the fourth or fifth time doing so, I did it much more frequently of late and it worried me. I closed my eyes and embarked on my journey, I had reminisced enough times to know the exact point to start from. It was at the Le Cremé Cafe outside the gate of my estate. I sighed, got JB’s Holy back on (on a repeat of course), mentally prepared myself for the pain that was to come, and set off down memory lane.

***

He had walked into the cafe that day looking like a god that had descended to the realm of mortals. I knew without an iota of doubt that every single female –both old and young– had checked him out that hot afternoon. I was slurping the dregs of my smoothie when he walked in, I tried to gasp in awe but ended up choking on my drink. I had never felt so embarrassed.

Doubled over, I tried to minimize my disgrace by covering my mouth but it refused to back down. “Why this? Why now?” I cursed inwardly and continued coughing, though minimally, only to find myself staring at the deity that had walked into the room when I raised my head. He was legit looking at me and it was obvious that it was an intentional stare.

I was still trying to steady my heartbeat when I saw him move, he was moving towards me. All sense of reasoning and rationality fled me at that point, it was almost as if I had become an imbecile plagued with Down’s syndrome. I began to stammer and smile at an odd angle like someone recovering from a partial stroke. I was not a sight to behold and I wept for myself bitterly.

“At least I know I have gist for Pam and Tam when I go online later in the evening. After all, it’s not every day a god walks in your direction, smiling intentionally at you.” I blinked back my tears of defeat and sat up straighter than my mother had taught me to while growing up. “Let me at least try to make up for my mess up.” I continued to murmur to myself until he got to my seat.

“Hello there, I’m new to this area and I think I’ve gotten lost trying to locate a hotel called Bees. Do you by any chance know how I can locate it from here?” He smelled like fresh fruits mixed with wet grass. I could already picture a savannah by smelling him, I had to pull myself back from holding his shirt by the collar to smell him.

Did I know Bees? Of course, I did. It was a stone’s throw from my house. I told him I knew where it was and I would be happy to take him there if he would wait for me to settle my bills. He agreed and I leaped up in joy to get moving. I hurriedly packed my things and waved to him to join me at the door of the cafe. You couldn’t have met a more shamelessly happy child.

In my shameless ecstasy, I took him to the hotel and even volunteered to come to pick him up to tour him around the neighborhood. He agreed. No word could do justice in the description of how happy I was. I was beyond excited, I was heated (though something else was heated and it wasn’t the side of my neck).

We had agreed to meet two hours afterward and when it was time, I scurried down the steps of my front yard, a small pool gathering between my thighs. It had been a while since any guy had got us that excited, I wasn’t going to let it pass me by.

We met up in front of Bees and began our mini-tour of the area. There were fairly interesting sights to see so we had enough places to keep us occupied till late in the evening. From girly giggles to loud laughs, I saw myself slowly open up towards a stranger I met only a few hours ago but felt closer to than anyone I had been within months.

“Hell, I don’t even feel this much energy with Olamide and we’ve been dating for about a year now. What did he do to me? And more importantly, what does he see in me? I know I’m not ugly enough to make anyone wanna puke but I ain’t no Rapunzel either. This whole thing feels too good to be true. I need to know this guy’s true intentions about me, why he chose to walk up to me of all the pretty ladies at the cafe, why he chose to allow me to tour him around the neighborhood, and most importantly, why he is still standing in front of me, the cool evening breeze softly blowing his clothes towards me, beckoning me into his laughing embrace?”

I dared not hope to believe that he wanted me the way his passionate eyes suggested. I forcibly wanted to believe that it was something other than the pure desire that sparkled in his pupils. I looked at his long dark arms and decided that I wanted to melt into his cocoa-colored arms that night but I couldn’t say any of all these. I was a female that didn’t know how to ‘shoot her shots’. Again, I wept bitterly for myself. I had never been so ashamed of myself in a long while.

“You look like you want to melt into my arms right now.” He laughed in a very low baritone that sent shivers down my spine. He had a sort of Yoruba-Hausa mix to it that it became an intoxicating cocktail I readily wanted to drink from. I had never been so enchanted by any man in my whole life. I subconsciously covered my mouth, scared that I had thought out loud. “Yeah, I said it and no, you didn’t say it out loud. I don’t need psychic powers to know that you want me, it’s in your very breath. I can smell it even right now as we speak.”

I stared at him in confusion and hurriedly covered my mouth to smell my breath. “I don’t smell desperate. Or do I? What does he mean by it’s in my breath? Can those things be smelt?” He broke into rich, deep laughter, holding a railing to help himself from falling over. He must not have met a girl as gullible as I was. He probably knew at that point that his job was done.

He pulled me closer and bent his head low for a kiss but several things held me back from giving in. First on the list was Olamide, my boyfriend, the next was the fact that I was still worried if my breath smelled desperate, and lastly, the fact that it was my neighborhood. Too many friends and foes knew me in the area. ‘Bad belles’ would report me to my boyfriend, ‘ambos’ to my parents, and friends to me for more gist. I had to stop him and for some strange reason, I felt the need to explain myself to him.

After explaining, he simply smiled and said “okay” after which he proceeded to start heading back towards the hotel. I felt defeated and disappointed. I had expected a bit more fight from his end even if I wouldn’t give in. We got back to the gate of the hotel and he invited me in for a drink before I took my leave. I should have listened to the first word my instincts screamed at me that cool evening. I should have run, but I followed him in and I got to see what life was truly about.

An hour and a half later, I was drunk on way too many things. My black lace bra was in one corner of the room and it’s matching thongs in the opposite direction. Sweat dripped from both sides of my temples and I kept chanting the words “don’t stop baby. That’s it, keep going. R-Right t-there….” He knew what to do alright, his expert hands moved swiftly and professionally all over my body. Each touch awakened a new hunger in me and my rivers continued to flow. I was just about to climb to the last cloud when I suddenly got a call from my mom. I looked at the time, it was 9 pm already.

“Shit!” We both exclaimed because he was just about to go in and I was ready for my first climax. Oh, also because my mom was worried of course. I mean, it was late already, so yeah I was also pissed that I had lost track of the time. I hurriedly got into my dress and was about to run out the door when he stopped me to ask for my number and name. It was only then that I realized that I had almost had sex with a nameless stranger.

A pang of guilt hit me while I shamefully dropped my name and number with… wait what was his name? Ayomide? No, wait, was it Ayomikun? No, no. Wait. Oh yes! It was Ayotunde. All these Yoruba names can be confusing at times. Anyways, Ayotunde continued to call and we continued to vibe but I refused him sex. He told me about how he used to be a player and how I had stepped in to change his life. He told me about how I made him a better man, made him want to push harder, and how he wanted me to be the only woman by his side forever.

You had to be the most gullible girl in the world to believe that right? Well, get my makeup on because I’m your girl. I fell for all his old cliches and hit lines. (I later found out from my best friend that he recycled them. He wasn’t even smart enough to come up with new ones.)

Eventually, I broke up with Olamide. After all, it was not every day you got to meet a deity and have him fall in love with you. Those only happened in Korean series or Disney movies but just like JB sang, “My life is a movie…” or so I thought. I still can’t believe I felt like my life was a movie. I went with the flow and asked Ayotunde out. I was a bit skeptical about what his response would be but he accepted and that was the beginning of the end.

Weeks into the relationship and he was already pressuring me for sex when I already made it clear to him before asking him out that I wasn’t ready for it anytime soon. I was no virgin but I needed a break from it and he told me he respected it, resonated with it. (It was one of the other reasons why I chose him over Olamide because Ola kept demanding sex since we were dating.) I guess it’s just like the adage goes:

“The ‘devil’ you know is better than the ‘angel’ you know nothing about.”

Ayotunde continued to pressure me for sex till I broke up with him, only to find out that he had been cheating on me with my best friend. She had been giving him all the goodies I had refused him and it was to be expected. Tam and I went out one day when she suddenly felt pressed and rushed to the restroom.

While she was away, a call came into her phone and the operator started calling out the numbers one by one. I didn’t need anyone to tell me who it was, I could recite the number in my sleep. I checked the name and it was saved with ‘My Heartbeat’ combined with many love emojis, padlock, and even anchor.

Strangely enough, I wasn’t angry, I only wanted answers. Tam and I had been best friends for over fifteen years, no fool was going to break that. When she got back, I spoke up and demanded answers. She talked, I talked, and then I moved.

I know my reaction was too cold for someone that got cheated on by her best friend and boyfriend who made her break up with her previous man, but that was me. I was way too indifferent to care. Tam was too happy with him, I wasn’t going to take away her happiness out of jealousy.

According to her, he had lied to her that we had broken up long before we did and she had felt too guilty to talk with me about it. We fixed our problems and I went home to mourn my stupidity. I had thrown away a real, honest guy for a fake pretender and it affected both my mental and emotional health for a long time.

I was down in depression when JB found and saved me. I owe him my life and sanity because I developed trust issues and a pessimistic view of life after my very tragic flaw of gullibility taught me a very real-life lesson. I began to heal and get happier after drowning in his songs, so I downloaded album after album from when he started singing to date. I couldn’t have met a better celebrity love.

One day, I will meet my savior and I’ll write my story to him. I just hope he gets to read it; the sad, yet exciting story of how a gullible girl became his fangirl.

All images are gotten from Unsplash.com