Fancying My Fan

Painting my Character

He walked into my canvas like its missing figure.

It was him. It was always him. It will always be him. I knew it since the day, I first saw him on the big screen, defeating the goons with his perfect and complete action moves. Kissing the heroines with those luscious, kissable lips that could turn on even a recluse and the conviction with which he spoke his dialogue, was just incredible. The little and everything about my favourite actor, Kenneth Kellar or how he was fondly called by his fans across the globe, "Kenny", made me feel fuzzy and fancy.

I got up at four in the morning to paint the pink, orange, and red morning sky. I don't know if it was the lack of coordination between my heart and mind but the glorious sunrise I painted featured the silhouette of a man whose existence made me consciously insane.

My father never supported my passion for art or my devotion for the king of my heart. That's normal. Ain't it? I mean, a father who approved the choice of his child without them putting up a fight is rarest of the rare species. And mine was commonest of the common. He did not even allow me to pitch for my choice of carrier, he died before I could quarrel. Leaving me a security company with worn out guards and hefty bills.

My mother? She was never in our family picture. She ran away to pursue her dreams when I was four. My father was clueless about her "dream", so, I obviously had no idea. I never missed her because my father's girlfriends catered to my motherly requirements. Every season, my father had a new girl that lived as his partner and I was intelligent enough to get my work done. Life was smooth and I was smart. More than my father, I pretended to be heartbroken when they left and that got me whatever I desired. Books, dresses, toys but most importantly, colours and canvas.

Behind this cool and carefree facet was an emotional and over-anxious girl who painted the world she desired to live in. My life was home-office-home-office-repeat. Well, no! My father was no more and my mother was non-existent. "I was the ruler of my world. I could do whatever I liked."

The only problem was the company my father left for me to run, ran the houses of it's ten odd employees. Now, I was no selfish bitch to leave them in a hand to mouth situation. Was I? No! I needed money too. And in a small town like mine where most of the people were above the age of sixty, who sometimes even forgot to lock doors because they knew no one would break in, who would hire security guards? Wonder what got into my father's head when he decided to start this company. Probably his urge to do something different or become a superhero who saved people from known dangers.

Huh! I was tired. The company hardly got any assignments and the guards were becoming fat and inert by the day in the absence of any action. The bills were piling up and with the government's grant, I could just pay the salary. Once, I decided to sell my extraordinarily amazing paintings, but either people didn't understand art or they wanted it for free or at a price so less that it could not even meet the cost of brush and colours.
Effort and hard work were intangible nothings.

So, that left me with the only option of trying to find work outside my town. I put advertisements on social media and other related portals about the availability of highly trained and professional security guards. I even offered, hire one, get one free. But it proved to be a waste.

Our only regular customer was a local hotel that hired two of our guards. I tried to persuade the guards to leave the company and find the job elsewhere but those emotional fools said, "We promised your father we will never leave you. We will offer our services to this company till our last breath."
URGH!
Who even talks like that? I sometimes wondered in a world where everyone was running to achieve success these people were stuck to a promise they made to a man who never kept a single promise he made. My eyes teared up remembering the broken promises and commitments of my father. He was my father and it pained my heart to say, the concept of 'a man's word is his honour' was foreign to him.

After working on all pros and cons, I decided to shelve the company and handed a notice to all the guards. I sucked at running the company because I had no inclination or motivation. It was a sight to see the hulk sized guards weeping looking at the letter of company closure but I knew it was the right move. I could not do it anymore. I was 23 and just too burdened.

My social life was pathetic. Sugar Coast was kind of a retirement town. It was scenic, serene and peaceful, just what people who worked their asses off in their youth wanted. Most of my friends got jobs outside the city and they preferred to come here only on holidays or their parent's demise. Harsh, but that was the truth.

With a heavy heart, the guards left to search for new jobs in neighbouring cities and one company was generous enough to try them for a week or two. I felt relieved. The pressure to help them survive was too much.

It was a lazy day with no employees or work in the office. I was just sitting in the office for the sake of it, surfing the share market and calculating the value of my investments. How much money I had and will have once the company was shut down, occupied my thoughts. I wanted to do something that will make me happy and I was daydreaming about the life, I desired to live.

My session of daydreaming came to a halt when someone knocked at the office door. I got up to open the door and found two police officers at my doorstep.

"Hello, Miss Cooper. I am George Reban, and he is my colleague Firan Lucus. We are here to inform you that you have to send your best security guard for guarding someone of diplomatic importance who is arriving for a short trip to our town, tomorrow morning at eight. I hope you can manage."

"Of course! She can. She has the best security guards in the city. Actually the only, private security guards, the city has."
Was Firan Lucus, mocking me? It wasn't the time to think about that.

"Hello, officer. I would be honoured to be of any help to the city but I am afraid all my guards have gone out of the city to hunt for jobs." I felt a little embarrassed to tell them about the situation. But I had no choice. I could see officer George wipe a tear in his eye.
What the fuck!
Men don't cry! And the ones in forces, definitely don't. That's a pre-conceived notion, ain't it?

But it was good for me. George sympathised with my situation but officer Firan told me, I had to arrange for someone else I will be answerable to the government and what next? They might reduce or cancel the grant we were getting.
No! No! No!
That would be bad. Disastrous. I had to think of something.
I assured them, I will work out something and send a guard to the airport, to receive the guest whose identity was not be disclosed till they arrive. I didn't even know if it was a male or a female.
That didn't matter. What mattered was getting my best guard Asif, back in town by evening so that he could report on duty tomorrow. I called him immediately and he gave me the breaking news that shook the earth beneath my feet.

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Dear Readers
Written on two prompts of the ONC 2022, this is the first chapter of Fancying my Fan, a light-hearted story of two individuals from two different worlds of the same planet.
Brace yourself for a fun ride when the worlds collide.
Like, comment as you please.
Happy Reading!
Lots of love!

The cover of the book was designed by @Acira_Joshva