President's Son And I

I have a secret obsession.

And today, I've moved from stalking my obsession to actually invading its privacy. Well, I'm not a professional stalker and that’s probably why I haven’t been able to get so many information about my obsession, but today, I moved past the invisible barrier created for me by Gwaggo Jummai. I've moved past the stage of just staring from a far. I'm having a closer look, and to say I'm walking diligently on the clouds is an understatement.

You may call me a bit crazy when it comes to him; my obsession. And maybe, if there was a stronger word for obsession, something that would describe how I feel within me for him, I'd appreciate knowing that word. But for now, it’s not like I planned to waste my time after having gotten such a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Today, Gwaggo Jummai couldn’t make it to her work. It’s a Saturday and the eldest son of her best friend is getting married, she ought to be there. The guy’s mother passed away few months ago and it was left to Gwaggo Jummai to plan his wedding and thanks to that, I got to be here. In his chamber, staring at all his things. And guess what? I could be able to touch them! Feel his scent not just from that imaginary part of my brain, but his actual scent that I'd die to feel forever.

My phone rang and that quickly jolted me out of my reverie. I sighed as I pulled down the silencer. I knew she’d never stop calling me today, she’d keep on calling until she made sure I was no longer in his apartment. Knowing how obsessed I was, maybe it was fate that forced her to let me come in her stead today.

“Gwaggo,” I called, placing the phone on my left ear. I'd rather save us both the stress and pick.

“Nasrin, I know that I've warned you enough not to make any mistake, right? But despite me being busy here, I called again.” I growled silently. Will she just allow me to please enjoy this moment while it lasted? I still haven’t even been to his room yet, still in the living room but I could live forever upon this emotion I'm feeling.

“I know you’re busy, and I can clearly hear how chaotic it is over there, Gwaggo. Trust me, I won’t make any mistake. I'd be done cleaning everything and rush there like you said, trust me on this.”

“It’s not like you’re trustworthy when it comes to him.” She sighed and I silently rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like I tried to hide my obsession from her. She was the mother I've never had growing up and...despite having tons of friends, I'm friendless.

“I told you since that I'm over him, didn’t I? I feel suffocated here, if I may say.” I tried to sound as dull and bored as I could muster in this exclusive moment of euphoria and I heard her scoff.

“Get back to work and come here directly, okay?”

“Yes, Gwaggo.” She ended the call without even waiting to hear from me and I put my phone back into my bag.

Like she said, I knew I had to be as fast as I could. She told me he would be back in two hours and I've probably wasted half an hour in this house, just looking around and doing all I could to avoid checking the room. Because knowing me as well as I do, I might end up cuddling myself into his bed and sleep amidst the scent of him. I'm that crazy over him!

I rushed to where she told me to find all that I'd need for the cleaning and get to work. The chamber wasn’t just magnificent, it was exquisite. I knew this because I've been to the other chambers, houses and apartments in this Villa and I don’t know if I'm judging them all with a clear mind or if I'm being hazy and misjudging everything because I'm drowsily obsessed with the owner of this apartment, but it’s beautiful!

Not in a way that it looked more expensive than the rest I've been to, no. But because of the simplicity. The class and that invisible signature of him. You just had to know it belonged to him even if you didn’t, because who would have had a better taste than this man? I bet no one.

There was nothing much to clean, but Gwaggo Jummai kept repeating to me how clean he wanted to see everything even though it was already clean. And I knew I'd take pride in cleaning where he lived, so I did it to the best of my ability. The two rooms I've cleaned showed no sign of life and I knew he might even spend over a year without actually glancing their ways.

I turned the door to the last room there and stopped midway when his scent filled my nostrils. I don’t know if it’s because I have such a great memory that I remember every single detail about him that ought to even be forgotten or there was more to it. But since that faithful day I've seen him six years ago, he still scent the same.

I closed the door behind me and walked deeper into the room. The vacuum I'm holding nearly slipped out of my hold and I held my scream. Never, not even in my wildest dreams-and believe me, I have the most impossible kinds of dreams when it comes to him-but I've never thought this could happen. This is beyond me just coming to his apartment for the first time. This is beyond me following his every move; on social media, in real life, when I'm chanced to visit the Villa and so on. This isn’t me paying some workers to know what’s going on in his life.

This...it’s way too personal. Way beyond what I've imagined and ever prayed for to happen.

I blinked, not once but thrice. Because maybe, I have some sort of disorder and now, I began to hallucinate just because I'm walking around where he lived. But no, it’s him. He was laying on his bed, the duvet brought up to his chest. I could see the vest that lay loosely on his chest and instantly became jealous of the fabric. And then his hair was dispersed to show he had been asleep for quite some time now.

He looked...like the angel he had always been in my life. My savior.

I didn’t know I had dropped the vacuum and walked deeper until I found myself staring closely, maybe a little bit closer than it should have been. He was deep asleep. His eyelashes rested beautifully on his cheekbones and his lips, plump and luscious as I've already imagined them to look this close-were pursed a little.

I can't believe what’s happening to me right now. My heart is beating so hard that I might suffer from tachycardia attack right now. My entire body was shaking. It couldn’t be true, that’s all my mind and brain were saying at the same time. But the way my heart was beating? It’s the usual way it beat whenever I see him. And being this close to him, it was justifiable if it beat a little bit too hard to send me to the ER.

I pulled out my phone, because I knew I had to take a picture of him. Of him...sleeping as though there wasn’t a lady out there, dying for him for over six years, whom he didn’t even knew existed. I took a picture of him. Okay, if I'm being a bit honest with myself, took over fifty pictures of him in different angles, because that’s how obsessed I am with him.

And just when I knew I should probably get the hell out of this room before he felt my presence and open his eyes-and then I'd have to hate myself for ever obsessing over him because he would never take it lightly. He may even have my life ended today. Or even if I was chanced to live, I'd have to turn this obsession into hatred because of what he’d chose to do to me. Yes, he’s a bit harsh like that.

Saying he’s harsh wasn’t a strong word, right? Because I knew, if he were in a book, he'd be a villain in every story. But I'm not ready to accept that yet about him. He’d always be the most beautiful man in my eyes. The softest in my heart. And I'd always obsess over him-from afar, safely.

So, I took a last picture of him. With my camera turned to selfie mode, I acted like I was pecking his cheek from where I stood and snapped it. God! I can’t believe this! I have a picture with him. My obsession. Zafir Anas Garko, the mighty, villain-worthy, President’s son of this country.

And just like that, what I thought was the best moment of my life, turned out to be the worse. And like I predicted, this obsession that I had for him, turned to be hatred for him. Not in a way that I could forgive, no. But in a way that it was too fierce to be containable in my heart. I hate him.

I no longer have a secret obsession.

Now, I have a profound hatred. An enemy that still didn’t know I exist. Still didn’t care whether I was killed or my life turned upside down. And he’d never know that once, I had been obsessed with him. This President’s son that turned out to be the villain in my story, as well.