“Could—sorry, could you…?”

For the fifth time that afternoon, a phone was thrust in my direction. I couldn’t see the muscle twitching in my jaw, but I could damn well tell it was there from the look on Magnus’ face.

“Yeah, no worries.” I forced a smile to crack across my face and took the phone from the girl bouncing on her toes in front of me. She emitted a noise that might have been a squeal had it been an octave lower then dashed over to Magnus. The rock star gave his fan the perfect smirk, stooping down a little and putting his arm around her shoulder.

I waited for the one dickhead who walked between me and the photo-ready couple to pass, then snapped a few shots. Magnus’ fangirl jumped up so excitedly that she only narrowly avoided headbutting her idol in the chin, then darted to my side to inspect my photography skills.

“Oh, it’s perfect! Thank you! Thank you!” she beamed, turning from me to Magnus to offer us both her undying gratitude. Magnus knew what to do with it and smiled. I did not know what to do with it, and so I looked dutifully flustered instead.

After waving the fangirl off, Magnus rejoined my side, his own hands stuffed into his jean pockets. His grin was sheepish, his shoulders hunched and his lips pursed together tightly, but there was a sparkle of mischief in his sapphire eyes that completely gave away his amusement.

“Sorry,” he half-sang at me as we continued our walk. “I guess you weren’t the only fan to stick around in the city for a few days.”

I shoved my hands into my jacket and shrugged, eyes fixed on the ground. I didn’t mind being Magnus’ impromptu photographer, and I certainly didn’t begrudge him for his status. It just made it three times longer to get from one shop to the other.

“All good. Kind of expected it, really,” I said. I checked back over my shoulder in the direction the other girl had gone. “Must be nice.”

“My fans are the best,” Magnus admitted, and he knocked his elbow playfully into my side. “Even the super-crazy-obsessed ones who sneak around to the stage doors after a gig when the venue staff said not to.”

At this, my entire face exploded with prickling embarrassment.

“Trust me, I’m regretting every moment after that decision,” I lied, trying my best to look both nonchalant and annoyed at the same time. The fact that Magnus’ smile did not waver served as a silent and very mutual understanding that I was talking out of my ass. Luckily, I spotted what we had been walking through the streets of Newcastle looking for, and it gave me the perfect exit from this teasing conversation. “There. Bookshop. You coming?”

I stormed ahead as though I didn’t care if Magnus followed, my full attention on the beautiful ornate building that housed the city’s bookstore. I crossed the narrow road in front of it, dodging the other pedestrians that ambled across the wide footpath, and headed into the shop.

It was like breaking through a roaring waterfall to a tranquil retreat. The city life ebbed away behind me, and I was embraced by the zen calm unique to bookstores. Nine times out of ten, I didn’t even bother to buy a book when I wandered into one of these shops. Normally, I was just recharging my social batteries, seeking an escape from the overbearing noise and bustle of a city and its people.

“So,” a deep voice rolled over my shoulder and to my ear, hardly held above a murmur among the quiet of the store. “What are we looking for?”

“Peace and quiet,” I responded, turning to greet my celebrity companion. Magnus was idly examining the bookstore, turning slowly on his heel before glancing back at me.

“What, you think my fans can’t read? Rude,” he smirked. I couldn’t reply before he wandered off to read a sign near the maroon-carpeted stairs at the centre of the room.

The sight of the stairs made me take a turn in looking around the shop. The ground floor wasn’t very big, housing mainly children’s books and stationery in matt-black shelves that lined every wall. But unusually in this day and age, the shop extended upwards across a number of floors. I shuffled over to Magnus, peering up to the sign that indicated which floor held which genre.

“Do you mind if I take a quick look at the art books?” I asked, tilting my head up. It was only now we were standing so close that I realised how bloody tall Magnus was. I wasn’t particularly short for a woman, but the guy was a giant compared to me.

“Hm? Sure, sure, go ahead.” Magnus gestured with an open palm towards the stairs on his left, stepping out the way so I could get past. He didn’t quite seem focused all of a sudden, and he kept his eyes trained on the floor sign. “Floor three, right? I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

***