Fabella

Fabian hates fandoms, especially when it's about him and his love life. 

Fans idolize people they barely know, adoring everything about them, spreading rumors and their obsession leads to fan wars.

How was the "Fabella" fandom born? 

It all starts at a ball when the Princess of Nord, a powerful empire, in Sedo. Fabian was eight. Isabella was six when she proclaimed her love in front of the entire kingdom. 

It was "young love" or so everyone said. 

 It was Fabian's first time in the limelight. A geeky kid dazed by the attention and the awkward silence followed by the side comments. 

"Isn't that the son of Artemis?" 

But it was their eyes that irked him, burrowing into his soul and judging him. 

He couldn't remember much of that night, but he could remember the chuckle of the emperor. Fabian was forced to dance with her, while the entire Kingdom watched. A girl he had met for the first time about a month before?

At home, He cried in his mother's arms. He hoped he would disappear into the shadows as before. To be unrecognizable.

To prevent people from being wary of him; in fear of the Princess's wrath. 

It's been 10 years. He has grown to hate the fandom and the Princess. 

"It's been a while since your girlfriend visited."

"She's not my girlfriend." He hates that he has to explain himself. Nobody ever listens, not even his best friend, Neon. 

"Did something happen at paradise?

He looked intently at Neon, A warning, hoping he'll heed. But he never does. He's more invested in the fandom than the palace maids. 

"Rumours claim it's because of the new foreign student. Girls love his accent. Of course, the princess is no ordinary girl. But people have seen them together. A great deal." 

He knows who he's talking about, Thomas, The newest eye candy. He hasn't seen him yet, but he's heard enough. 

 He hears the comparisons. "Fabian was a cute boy, but the foreigner was a 'Man'." the foolish things people say. 

He was strong and rough but refined. He was built like a warrior. He was a wildfire. And the people love him. And so does the Princess.  

She hasn't come to disturb or force him to go on dates or to listen to her stories. He was happy about Thomas. 

He's had some peace. He hoped he could have peace from the people and their unsolicited comments. He wished they gossiped more quietly. But as he was a Shreith, it didn't matter. His ears would always pick up the most unnecessary things. 

"Thomas would make a suitor."

" There are a better fit."

Weren't they the same people who clamored over "their young love"

He wasn't sure how he was feeling about it. It was the first time in ten years that he had gone about two months without seeing or hearing from the Princess. 

Was this happiness? 

Of course, he had to be. All he ever does was complain and beg to be left alone.

Was this sadness?

Was he getting accustomed to her nagging? He almost missed — No. He hates the attention. He always has. Always will.

"What do you say? Shall I Abandon ship? You were always nagging. But don't you feel anything?" Thomas turns over the page ignoring Neon as before. "I know you don't like the princess, but you're about to be replaced."

He looks up from his book at the last sentence and glances at the door. It's followed by a weak rapid knock at the door. It was his little sister.

"The princess is here to see you"—He could hear her giggles—"She's in the garden." Then she hurries away. 

He closes his eyes and pinches his temple. 

"It's not that bad."

Fabian opens his eye and his friend goes quiet. "Stay here! She won't show you mercy if she catches you eavesdropping again." He turns back at his friend before leaving. "And she will." 

He nods in disappointment. 

***

She was bent over by the Lilies, her bright eyes scanning the flowers.

Fabian knew she wasn't admiring the flowers like outsiders would assume. She was haunting for the prettiest one. To pluck it. Kill it. She'll pull it apart, petal after petal; till all was left was the stem to be carried away by the wind.

"Stop plucking them. My mother works very hard on them."

"I can't help it"-She plucks another flower in defiance-"And she said it's okay."

"She only said that—"

"Because I'm scary," she says in a proud grin. But it fades away. "Did you miss me?"

"No." He shifts in his spot. He could feel her eyes trying to read him. He seats by the flower beds looking into the soil. He'll have to prove that he doesn't love her. Not now. Not ever.

"Thomas been fun. It's really interesting to have someone see things the way I do. To understand how you feel. To go on crazy adventures without regard for safety."

He notices a colony of ants in the soil. He wondered how many ants were in there. How long they've been leaving there. 

"I like Thomas. He likes me too. Yesterday, we were returning from the Island of Wrath and we were trapped in the craziest storm. We barely made it alive. But I guess you don't want to hear that. Finally we made it to the bay,We were cold. Drenched. And in the cool if the evening staring at the stars he asked if he could kiss me." 

He wondered if there were more colonies living around. He searched around and finds another a palm away from the previous.

"The interesting thing is I didn't hate the idea. " 

He looks at her again. He sees that all too confident smirk on her face. He was curious, yes he'll admit that. But he'd hate for her to misread it as concern or jealousy. 

He shoots her an indifference look. He sees the confidence fade into confusion. 

"I am not sure if I love the idea. But I'm open to it." She walks closer to him, closing the space between them. She bends towards his face. "Do you want to kiss me?" 

Her breathe against his skin. He could discern her scent, the distinct smell of lavender. And her pink lips reverting back into the smirk."

He hated playing this sick games. What would it take for her to leave him alone. He begged. He cried. He changed his style and his personality. He pretended to care, gave in. Maybe she'd loose interest if he finally did. He said no firmly. Multiple times. And now he's indifferent and frustrated and just tired of her. 

"No I don't." And he stands up.

"I see. Still a no." 

It was a no then. It's always going to be a no. He pushes pass her to leave.

She grabs his hand. Firmly. 

She stares at their interlocked hands and at him.

"You shall be my first kiss." 

He pulls away but she's not budging.

"And I yours." 

She can do what she wants but he can't tell her what to do. He can kiss who he wants. Get to go out with who he wants. Without his potential dates fearing for their lives. 

"You're mine Fabian! The moment I said so." 

"Why did you come here today in hopes I'd get jealous and do what you want?"

"You're not jealous?"

"Do you know what it means to be jealous?" 

"To feel fiercely protective of my rights or possessions."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not a possession. You don't own me. I'm not a trophy something to be won and displayed. Something you'll break people hands if they dared touched like you did to tommy" 

She looks away from his gaze. She only did that because Tommy had hit him. She could not stand to see his pretty face all swollen, dark. It was a warning. A message well understood. No one could touch him but her. She looked back at him with no regret. 

"I'm not something. I'm a person. Do you don't understand that?" 

She doesn't say anything. She watches his expressions. The change from anger to disgust to frustrations back to anger.

" You don't even understand what it means to be jealous. You just have compulsive desires and unhealthy obsessions." 

She lets go of his hand. "You're right. I don't understand." Both hands move to rest on her tailbone.

"You've have to disappointed. You were not my first kiss."

"Who would dare?"

"I'll kiss who I want to kiss and you'll stay out of it."

She could force him. Force her dad to sign off on their marriage. He was eighteen. She was almost seventeen. It wasn't a "young crush". 

She could steal a kiss right now. It would not take long for him to push her away. He wasn't big like Thomas but he was strong, stronger than her. He wouldn't regard her title before he'll shove her against the ground.

But she won't. 

She would never force him but she won't back down either.

She'll wait.

"Do you like her?" she asks.

He does not respond, ignoring the irritation in her voice. He has his right to his privacy.

"Do you still hate me?"

"Yes. More everyday." 

"I understand."

"I don't care what happens between you and Thomas. I'd love if you'd let go of me and cling to him." He runs his hands through his messy hair. "I can deal with you but not at my home. My family should not get dragged into this." 

"They might actually like me." 

He follows her glance over to the house. He sees his little sister with Neon peeping through the upstairs window.

"They don't know you," he reassures. He walks out of the garden leaving her behind.