She saw him at Bedok Interchange and her heart skipped a beat.
"AAaaaarrrggghhh...it's him!!!!!!!!!"
Dia kejar. Kejar tau!? Tergesa-gesa. Termengah-mengah. Terkinja-kinja. Buat malu kaum aje...!! And you know you've struck a nerve when Raihan starts it up with her koyak Malay.
Zihan....you gotta chill! You gotta be cool!
Like me. I was always cool.
Huh?! What?!
*Nazreen, Sadin, Izrina and a few other boy-band groupies from my yesteryears howling their indignant protests*
No laaahh....no, I did not camp out at Trader's Hotel when Boyzone was in town and no, I did not pay one of our juniors Khuzaimah $30 to share a hotel room in Trader's just so that 20 or so breathless, giggly fellow Boyzone fans (all girls!!) can squeeze into one broom closet-sized room and get excited over the fact that they were breathing the same air as Ronan Keating. No, I did not roam listlessly with another bunch of giggly girls outside Marco Polo Hotel so that we can catch a glimpse of Take That and no, I did not seeth in jealousy when I heard that Mark Owen poked his head out of his bedroom window at one point and waved at a lucky bunch of giggly girls who happened to be at the right place at the right time. No, I did not nearly faint in blind euphoria when Kevin Richardson of the Backstreet Boys waved from their vehicle to a certain weak-kneed fan in a tailgating taxi filled with a bunch a of giggly girls. No, I never said Kevin Richardson was my favourite boyband boy of all time. No, I did not love his thick eyebrows. No, I did not swoon over his handsome, chiselled face. No, I was not filled with hopelessness when I heard that he got married. I believe he got a tad upset when he heard I got married aaah! :P
Me? A groupie?
Nah. I was too cool. Way too cool.
*burns all evidence of giggly groupieship and love letters to Kevin Richardson*
Heh.
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