So, you are there, waiting with friends at the auditorium. Waiting for your brother to turn up. Bored because you reached an hour earlier and had to take a walk on the street in your heels. You were so bored you went up to the kiosk and clicked pics of the new brand launch from your company. You chatted with the shopkeeper to get a feedback on who is buying it and how many units he has sold. Then, you called KC to update him on what a loser you have become. Market work on a weekend? That is the last straw of loneliness.
Any way, you want your brother to get there fast so you can go find your seats inside the auditorium. You see your friends getting restless waiting. You look up and your eyes open wide. Is that… Is that Ali… something? Zafar? Fazal? The one from that movie… the one you liked so much. And another one where he had awesome chemistry with Vidya Balan. Sure, she looked like his mother but since Game of Thrones, you have become more open minded about incest. He is tall and dressed in dhoti pants. Has messy hair and a beard. Wow. He looks just as good as he does on screen. You realise your mouth has fallen open and he has noticed. Your eyes meet and you want to say something but then the moment is over. He moves towards the cafeteria looking for his friends.
“Should I go say hi? Ask for his autograph? A pic, maybe?” But that is tacky. What are you going to say? “Hey, I am a fan. You are awesome”. What will you do with the pic? And who takes autographs these days? What is the point really? He is out with friends and family and should be able to enjoy his weekend without crazy, stalker like fans disturbing him.
You decide to be mature and stay away. Your only indiscretion is a tweet telling him how you drooled over him. That kind of un-cool behaviour is expected on twitter. The only reason you are there, after all.