Crap, My Boyfriend Is Famous
Someone once asked me, “How famous is your boyfriend?” I then started to wonder, hoping to compare his “degree of fame” with some other actor. It was then that it hit me: oh no, my boyfriend is famous – at least, way more so than me.
I don’t like fame. It means losing your privacy, being the target of gossip, and getting lots of haters. My boyfriend, on the other hand, seems to bloom in the face of fame. He is quite comfortable in front of the camera, oozing with confidence, almost as if he’s at his best when he knows people are watching.
Good for him. I’m really happy he likes all the attention. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s friggin’ famous.
Okay, maybe the claim to fame may be subject to argument. “Famous? I’ve never heard of him,” you might say. And I don’t blame you. When I first met him, I’ve never heard of him, either! Yes, he’s not as popular as Gerald Anderson (although he claims to look just as good as him), but it still shocks me to my core when some girl starts shrieking and asks for a picture, or when a hard-core fan screams out his complete name.
Gawd, I shall never get used to the fact that my significant other has a fan page. And, frankly, I would never have remotely considered being in a relationship with him, if not for the scrappiness in him that I saw in everything he did. Man, he works like a carabao! He juggles several tasks (think: author-slash-cartoonist-slash-host-slash-DJ-slash-comedian), doing his best at everything, never running out of ideas. He can do it all (especially now that I’m here to help, hehe!).
Famous or not, he has earned his spot in the limelight. I have never seen a man more determined to be the best at what he loves doing. Perhaps I shall never get used to the screaming fans. And, at the opposite end of the spectrum, I shall never get used to the occasional “Who the hell is he?” remark.
When someone says showbiz, I think, yuck. Still, as it turns out, I am his number one fan.