These are my stories which are also published elsewhere.
*****
"Next please," I said on auto pilot from my spot at the till.
I looked up to be greeted by instantly recognisable brown eyes and dark hair, blurting out, "Victoria!" before I'd even realised what I'd done.
In front of me stood Victoria Justice. Now, considering I was a 30 year old British man, working in a clothes store in London, I probably shouldn't even have known who she was. I definitely shouldn't have said anything. But I'm a guy who likes to look at pretty women online, someone who occasionally likes to jerk off to beautiful clothed women as well as slutty porn stars fucking, someone with a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of young, gorgeous, female celebrities.
In that moment of shock, I ended up speaking before my brain had engaged fully, and now I was embarrassed.
Seeing her, in the flesh, two feet away, was overwhelming.
God she's even prettier in real life! I thought like I was a teenage girl obsessing over her first crush. In my defence, she just looked so much more special than everyone else. Her long brown hair, straight and lustrous. Her teeth white and gleaming, her makeup perfectly applied, so as to be almost invisible. Her clothes were the expensive kind of casual, everything fitted for the slim, toned young body they were wrapped around. In short, she looked Hollywood - all except for the bored look on her face.
I felt embarrassed for saying anything and she didn't look impressed either - which just made me more nervous.
"I...I'm a big fan," I stammered, as some sort of justification.
Like a switch had been turned on, her expression changed. She almost instantly began smiling, looked me right in the eye - it's hard to hold eye contact with someone that pretty - and turned towards me. You know when you hear of actors who seem to always be 'on'? I imagined that was what this was - she was putting on her public persona.
"Oh really? What's your favourite song?"
If it was an act, it was a convincing one. She seemed genuinely attentive and interested. The effect was intoxicating, and I forgot I was even asked a question. Martin, my neighbour at the next till and long-time friend, nudged me in the ribs.
"Go on John, what's your favourite song?" he asked, the amusement clear in his voice.
I'll be honest, I was only ever dimly aware that Victoria Justice was a singer, or that she did anything beyond getting photographed in nice dresses.
"I, um...they're all so good," I said unconvincingly, but she seemed to find that answer incredibly joyous - her smile widened.
"John is more like one of those fans who likes to look, if you know what I mean," said Martin, cutting in.
I elbowed him out of the way even as he made the 'wanking' gesture with his hand.
I didn't seem to bother Victoria though.
"Oh, do you think I'm pretty?" she stepped back from the till, as if to give me a look, and stood straight, presenting herself to me. She actually looked apprehensive.
"Beautiful," I gasped. This conversation was turning surreal. She definitely liked that answer and came forward again, leaning over the till. The clothes she was meant to be buying were long forgotten. As she leaned in, she looked up at me, through her lashes.
"Sexy too?" she asked, seeming desperate for an answer. At that moment there was nobody else in the room, no room at all - just her deep brown eyes, her red lips and the loud beating of my heart.
"Yes!" I said, forgetting where I was.
"How often do you masturbate to me?" she said, her voice still needy.
"I...er..." I said, not sure how honest to be. That pause was enough for me to remember where I was, what I was meant to be doing, "Never!"
She looked crestfallen, "Never? But I thought you said-"
"Look, I'm not really a fan, to be honest, I just said that..."
Now she looked actually broken, by my words.
"Dude!" whispered Martin alongside me, "A bit harsh don't you think?"
Harsh? I was being pretty honest really.
An anguished wail of, "No!" jolted me and everyone else into looking at Victoria, who'd seemed to have physically collapsed against the counter. She still only had eyes for me though.
"Why? What did I do?" she desperately asked.
I looked up from her to see the eyes of the entire shop trained on us, then back down at her sorrowful expression. At that moment my manager was alongside me.
"Look," hissed Sheila, quietly so only I could hear, "I get that she's famous so I'll ignore that you're doing this when you're meant to be working. Next time you want to fanboy over someone, do it in your own time!"
"But-"
"I'll take over your till, just take your lunch hour early, ok? And make sure you're done by the time you get back."
I knew it was useless to argue, stepped aside and walked out from the counter. I could see Victoria's big brown eyes following me and she moved to intercept me on the shop floor. This was getting really fucking strange. Behind me, Sheila called up the next customer.
"What did I do?" Victoria implored.
Standing in front of her, a foot away, she looked larger than I imagined - still remarkably lean but not short enough to be petite, or tall enough to be statuesque. She was many inches below my own height, but it was still alarming when she grabbed the front of my staff t-shirt with both hands and cried, "Please, I need you!"
"Miss Justice," I said, suddenly in professional mode and realising how ridiculous this sounded, "How about we move somewhere more private? People are looking."
"But...ok, whatever you want," she said glumly. I gestured towards the back of the store and she took my meaning, walking in front of me to a quieter end where women's underwear was stocked.
I definitely took the opportunity to admire her ass moving in her tight jeans. Ok, she might not match up to some others in that department but a hot 26 year old's ass is still a hot 26 year old's ass.
She stopped by a pillar and this time took my hand, grasping it tightly. He voice was near breaking,
