Famous

Fame had different meaning these days, and he had no trouble finding it online.  Soon, everything he did was watched and applauded.  Soon everything he did was watched and analyzed to death.

People thought he did things for bizarre reasons that he never even thought of.  People thought he did the right thing when he felt he did the wrong and the wrong thing when he did the right.  People hated him or loved him, threatened him, stalked him, proposed to him without ever having met him.

Eventually, he just had to get away.


He went to the woods, an obscure wood, one long since forgotten in the age of the internet.  It didn't even have web cams.  He was sure no one would find him here.

He was wrong.


He groaned when he reached the high point on the trail and saw her.  He turned to leave.

"Wait, don't go!" she called out.

He turned and tried to put on a fake smile, knowing she was about to ask to take a selfie with him.

But then her face fell.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you," she said.  "And I didn't mean to tell you what to do.  I just meant that I don't mind if you stay."

He felt puzzled.  "You don't know who I am?" he asked.

She shrugged.  "No.  Should I?"

He smiled for what felt like the first time in years.


They stood in silence for a while, admiring the view overlooking the surrounding trees.  After a while, she spoke again, "It's nice to get away."

"It is," he agreed.

They chatted more after that, and climbed back down the trail together.

She invited him to dinner and cooked some fish she had caught earlier that day around an open fire.

The next day she taught him how to catch some of his own.

They spent a whole week together, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and on the last day, she kissed him.

"Do you think we could meet up again?" he dared to ask.

She shrugged.  "Maybe," she said.  "I come here every couple of months."

"Perhaps I can, too?" he suggested.

She smiled softly.  "Call me when you need to get away," she said, handing him a paper with her phone number already written on it.


As tempted as he was to call her that very next day, he waited until the next time he wanted to go to those woods.


It took three trips before it happened.  Someone else found them there.

The fan's eyes lit up, and he though, Oh no, here it goes.

But the woman did not turn to him.  The woman turned to his companion.  "You're The Naturalist!" the fan exclaimed.

The outed celeb smiled back.  "The one and only," she said.

"Can I get a selfie with you?" the newcomer asked.

His friend gave the weary look he was all too familiar with himself.  "Of course," she agreed.

Once the well-meaning interloper was on her way, he turned to his companion and asked, "You're famous?"

She shrugged.  "Only in some circles," she admitted.

"I had no idea," he replied.

"It's okay," she said.  "I like it that way.  Sometimes it's nice to not be famous."

He smiled and took her hand.  "Yeah," he agreed.  "Yeah, it is."