CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

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TWENTY EIGHT

SEBASTIAN

  I couldn't believe my eyes. No, I couldn't fucking believe my fucking eyes.

The hoots and hails from the boys was all it took for me to confirm that I wasn't mistaken. He was here. Really, he was here.

Jesus.

No, Jesus wasn't here, at least not physically. The person that was here was International Nigerian football star, Caleb.

I wasn't girly, but I could scream. He was my fucking idol. The personality I looked up to and wanted to have everything to do with. And, he was here. Sauntering through the aisle between neatly arranged seats to the front of the arena, smiling through out. He was really here.

Wait, let me faint and stand up.

Trust fans now, a lot of us already had phones over heads, making videos, snaps, boomerangs and streaks of the celebrity in our midst. I mean, there were celebrities among us on a normal day, but this man, he was a celebrity celebrity. Raised to power two sef. And who didn't want the world to know they've met a celebrity?

And, most importantly, HE WAS HERE!

On impulse, my phone was in my left hand, and I had already taken a million and one photographs and videos in tbe space of twenty seconds.

My fucking idol.

Smiling sadly, I sent the snaps to her, captioned "HE'S HERE", although I knew there would be no one receiving them on her phone which was hidden, almost too hidden, in my bedroom. Yet, sending her snaps just the way we used to streak gave me a feeling I couldn't place. A nostalgic, yet pitiful one. I still did it anyway.

"Put your phone away," an official called from a distance as others worked to quieten down the hall. Mr Caleb, on the other hand, stood on the podium with that same bright smile plastered on his face. He was clad in a simple plain black outfit of a Nike round neck t-shirt and matching black sweatpants. On his feet were the latest Nike AirForces; white and black. I loved his simplicity and effortlessness when it came to his dressing. The only indication his outfit was designer apart from the usual Nike checkmark was the “Jesus is King.” intricately woven into the fabric in a little Serif font on the side of the sleeves and top right corner of the sweatpants, just next to the pocket to indicate it was customized.

How did I notice all these in a second? Being a crazy fan does that to you.

In no time, the hall was calm safe for a few catcalls and whistles here and there. Everyone was obviously very excited to have him in our midst and the fact that he reciprocated the energy killed me.

No, I died and woke up when he spoke into the microphone.

"Good morning, Campers!" He beamed, resting a hand on his waist while scanning the crowd once again before he continued. "I'm actually so glad to be here, I can't believe this. It's such an amazing moment for me, guys".

He laughed, then continued. "I'm pretty sure by now that you guys already know me. I, I mea–".

The cheers from the crowd cut him off mid sentence, making him laugh again, while people like me (which were very few) remained utterly starstruck.

𝐈𝐧 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬Where stories live. Discover now