God, she was beautiful. My fingers dragged across the laptop screen wistfully, temporarily covering the face of my gorgeous goddess. My lovely Penny. Keyword: my. She didn't belong to those so called 'superfans' that followed her every vlog and interview and TV show. They completed those cute little quizzes on Buzzfeed and paraded around the world clamouring each one knows her better than the last. But they don't know her to the extent that I do. No, none of those fools could compare. I watched a Youtube video of her talking to a journalist about her upcoming movie. My blood simmered as I noticed her smile when speaking to him. That should be me, making her laugh. Not him.

I switched tabs deftly, my eyes flicking around me in the sombre library and my fingers tapping agitatedly against the keyboard. It was dim, with not many people around. But one could never be too careful; they, the outside world, wouldn't understand the special relationship I had with Penny. They, the souls that had never felt the touch of love upon their hearts, would have me taken away from my Penny. And I couldn't have that. She needed me, and I needed her.

My eyes drifted back down to my laptop, and I hunched further over the screen. On it, I watched from the corner of her room's camera as Penny threw herself onto her queen sized bed, sinking into the duvet. I imagined myself beside her, stroking her silky chocolate locks and twisting them between my tobacco stained fingers. But I had recently quit smoking, just for her. She once mentioned in an interview that she hated men that smoked. So I stopped.

I could almost detect the scent of her favourite perfume, Christian Dior's J'Adore Eau de Parfum. She wore it everywhere. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, picturing my hand shifting down her hair, onto the smooth surface of her back and tracing circles. Penny would laugh, and that warmth from her skin would spread into my arm and throughout my whole body. Someday, someday, when I build up enough courage, I would find my way into her room and wait her for after shooting one of her vlogs, and how pleased she would be!

My daydream was rudely interrupted by the librarian poking my shoulder, trying to peer at my screen. My eyes snapped open and I slammed the laptop closed, my ears reddening. The librarian reminded me that sleeping in the library was forbidden and escorted me out, kicking me to the curb. I scowled, irritated, in her general direction as I stood in front of the establishment. I would come back next week anyway; the wifi was free here, and my landlord had recently cut off my internet access for not paying my rent on time.

And then, my Penny and I would meet again.

I buried my face into the thick, lavender scented blanket. I wondered whether Marie had changed the sheets and doused them with lavender oil from my vanity. Whatever she had done to my room today, it smelt fantastic. But my mind couldn't allow me to stay light hearted for too long. I turned on my side and pulled my knees up into the foetus position, squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my face into my knees. The lace trimmings of the stockings I wore ticked my nose uncomfortably.

I stretched my memory back to when I left the house this morning. I was recording an outdoor vlog, waving my selfie stick to do a fit check. I was all too careful not to leak my address or any remote hints of my whereabouts. I felt pretty optimistic, thinking this was probably one of my better recordings in a while where I looked genuinely happy. I stopped in the middle of the footpath, reviewing the footage I obtained and making a few minor edits. Once I was satisfied with the length of the video, I sent it to my editor to fix up, who would forward it to my manager to re-examine and upload onto the Internet.

I felt someone tap me on the shoulder, jolting me out of my flow state. I turned around, pasting a smile in case it was a fan. "Do you want an autograph? Here, I've got a marker. What do you want me to sign?" I spoke before they could, already predicting their words. People on the street always asked for me to sign their shirt or their arm, and snap a quick selfie with me. Then they'd tap out "Oh my God! I just met THE Penny Sinclair!!!!! Cuter in person1!!!!1" on Reddit, or whatever people use these days. They'd get maybe, one or two likes, and obsess over it for the next month. I take pride in the fact that I have so much influence on the general population.

But the man before me just... stared. He didn't say anything. I was still holding out the uncapped marker that I carry with me everywhere. I noted his greasy hair hanging in lank chunks, pushed behind his ears. Seeing people with unkempt hair just made me so... ugh. His eyes were listless and green, but in that bright, unnerving way. Gave me the heebie jeebies. I shook the marker, trying to get his attention as my smile nervously widened. "Hey, autograph?" I spoke slowly, like coaxing an animal out of its' cage. I'm not sure it worked. At least, not in the way I hoped it to.

His eyes began roving up and down my body, and I felt his gaze crawl over me like fire ants. His cracked lips stretched into the most horrible, bad-intention-filled grin, prompting shivers. I felt suddenly cold. This must be one of my 'superfans'. The people my manager warned me not to interact with. But I needn't have worried about trying to escape him; he just pushed past me and strolled off. He left a distinct stench of unwashed armpits, and I held back my gag as he passed me.

I rolled onto my back, moving my arms and legs out in a spread-eagled position. I stared up at my painted ceiling, the baby blue looking more like azure in the odd yellow lighting of my nightstand lamp. I can't believe I had had... that experience today. I could still feel his eyes on me from everywhere, like he was mentally undressing me. I shivered again, and decided to sleep in my clothes.

I pulled the covers of my quilt over my head and slept restlessly that night.