Chapter One
I’m going to visit my sick Aunt Brittany.
Twitter, StarryEyed_4SA
The lights went out all over the stadium, followed by explosions coming from every corner of the stage. A huge swooshing gust of wind blasted through the crowd from unseen high-powered blowers, as if mimicking the wave of excitement that swept through the thousands of fans eagerly waiting for the concert to start. The powerful flurry of air was completely exhilarating, and everyone screamed.
Sapphire “Saffi” March screamed as loud as everyone else, her heart beating madly as music started to play in the background. Fast and furious beats of the drum burst through the speakers next, and the mostly-female crowd started jumping up and down as they recognized the song.
One, two, three, four---
Each member of the popular boy band Celsius performed stunning aerial somersaults as they landed on stage one by one.
“Oh. My. God!”
Next to her, Brittany grinned. She had long hair, chubby cheeks, and the most amazing pair of dark brown eyes hidden behind dorky-looking glasses. Saffi loved her to death even though this was her first time to meet Brittany in person, loved her even though Brittany happened to be the president of the Florida Chapter of the Official Celsius Fans Club. The enemy, in Staffan Aehrenthal’s own words.
But she didn’t think like that. Brittany was a fellow fangirl and fangirls stuck together, through thick and thin – and that meant having to lie to Staffan about coming to tonight’s concert.
“I told you they’re fantastic!” Brittany boasted as they started dancing. Both of them had two left feet, causing Saffi and Brittany to unintentionally bump against each other several times. It was like watching two bowling pins trying to knock each other out – without the bowling ball.
“I know they’re good,” Saffi said laughingly. “They’re just not as good as Staffan.”
Brittany made a face. “Staffan Aehrenthal is too much of a bad boy for my taste. Plus, he’s kinda old.”
Saffi shook her head. “He’s not.” Old meant, like, decrepit, and Staffan could go for hours – the entire day even – making love to her. Just yesterday, Saffi literally had to beg for a time out. Well, she hadn’t really meant it, though. All she had wanted was a few minutes so she could breathe because the things Staffan did with his mouth and hands had made her gasp and gasp---
Okay, she was starting to feel a little breathless now, just thinking about the fact that after tonight’s concert, she would be with Staffan again.
The first song ended, and the lights went out again. Everyone screamed once more, and Brittany and Saffi did their best to shriek just as loud.
“It’s their surprise guest!” Saffi had to yell just to make herself heard over the continuous screams from the crowd.
“ANY IDEA WHO IT IS?” Brittany literally bounced with each word.
“MUST BE SOMEONE REALLY POPULAR,” Saffi yelled back, bouncing with each word as well. She had to bounce – it was the only way to release the excitement inside her so she would not self-combust.
“I’M SURE OF IT!” She added. And she was. Saffi took her fangirl craft very seriously, and concert politics was among her favorite subjects. If the surprise guest had been less popular than Celsius, then the artist should have served as the opening act instead. But no – it had been the other way around. Celsius was tonight’s star, but the group had chosen to perform as the opening act for its guest.
“MAYBE MADONNA?” Bounce, bounce.
“IMPOSSIBLE. SHE’S ON TOUR.” Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce. Brittany was just as serious as Saffi was when it came to her craft, and that meant keeping track of the touring schedules of the other popular artists. It paid to keep an eye on the competition.
“Then who could it---”
Music played ever so softly in the background, but its distinct notes were more than familiar.
Saffi’s jaw dropped. So did Brittany’s. They exchanged glances. And then---
Bounce. Bounce. Bouncebouncebouncebouncebouncebounce---
“OH MY GOD!” Brittany and Saffi shrieked at the same time. “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD---”
Powerful beams of light exploded from overhead, all directed at the center of the stage where one man stood. He had longish blond hair, a classically beautiful face, and the most amazing body, all sculpted muscles with not even a fraction of an ounce of fat.
Saffi should know since that was her lover on stage.
“Staffan Aehrenthal in the house, everyone!” the leader of Celsius roared.
Saffi died.
Wait, she just didn’t die. She died and went to heaven with those words. She really did, even if it was just a second. Celsius – her favorite band – performing with her favorite rock star Staffan Aehrenthal on one stage!
She sooooo died.
Staffan slowly looked up, and the crowd went wild as the cameras zoomed in on his face, flashing that delicious image on the giant screens flanking each side of the stage. His f**k-me hazel eyes were as potent as it ever was, promising the most illicit things that would have a fangirl screaming in ecstasy.
And so they screamed…and screamed and screamed as Staffan started to dance the way only he could do.
Although the majority of the world’s female population knew him as Sweden’s #1 Sex God, the 10,509 girls crying inside the stadium knew he was so much more than that. He was Staffan Aehrenthal, Europe’s badass version of Justin Timberlake – the most versatile rock star that ever lived.
Saffi’s throat went dry as she watched Staffan dance on the stage, his every move graceful and seductive. His lovely dark voice mesmerized – the male counterpart of a siren, if there ever was one. His voice tantalized. With each word that came out of his mouth, it beckoned his listeners to come closer, to inhale his scent, to reach out and feel the impossible hardness of his body.
“YOU ROCK MY WORLD, STAFFAN!” Saffi shrieked the words so loudly she became lightheaded. But she didn’t care. It came with the job, so to speak.
And then---
Staffan’s eyes were suddenly on her.
She could have been imagining it. She must have been imagining it. But Saffi knew she wasn’t. There might be thousands of girls in the crowd, many of them prettier and sexier than she was, but this was Staffan, and he was the man who was in love with her.
Those f**k-me eyes were laughing at her. But they were also loving her, seducing her, cherishing her--–
Oh, she just died all over again.
“SCREAM FOR ME,” Staffan invited his fans.