Champagne Casanovas ... histoire d'amour (the tale)

Didn't I describe them aptly? Not taken the night we met ... but may as well have! -Vix-

“Carpe Diem! Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary.”

-Dead Poet's Society-

Okay, I admit, I’m a total stalker! But who’s complaining when dreams have proven to come true? I’m firmer than ever in my belief that we are the Masters of our own destiny. No longer will I complain about life being mundane when all one has to do is to go out there and live it! Like a good friend of mine always used to say, “Life ain’t no dress rehearsal.” We only get one shot, so we should make it good.

Carpe Diem!

Back to my stalking triumph. The hotshot band Il Divo’s in town right? To quote Simon Cowell, four hunky young men “that sound like The Three Tenors; and look like Armani models”. I have been sunk from the first aria. Or the first glance of not one not two but four examples of male perfection. Il Divo means “divine male” in Italian. No argument here! FOUR divine males, to be exact!

My loopiness over boy bands dates back to the days of the New Kids on the Block. Do you blame me? Any girl who was a teenager between the years of 1988-1994 knows exactly what I’m talking about. It’s just that while they are smart enough to keep their traps shut, I don’t do so well with censure. So I will admit I dreamt about being Mrs. Jordan Knight for (embarrassingly) too long past their prime.

Then there was Boyzone soon after (I’m proud to say I was never a Take That fan.) which lead to my Irish obsession. The obsession remains (Erin go bragh!) but the days of Boyzone are long gone … it started right about when Shane Lynch, my object of affection, started mutilating himself with those tattoos and multiple piercings! There’s always ONE isn’t there? NKOTB had Donnie, BSB had whatisface the alkie (AJ?), NSYNC had Chris – the old geezer … the list goes one. Hopefully Il Divo never stoop to such lows. Then again, a pierced eyebrow would hardly go with those sleek Armani suits the boys wear so well. As for what they have under those suits … I’m going to keep dreaming it’s just tanned pristine muscle.

I’d not had any luck in trying to (a) get a glimpse of the boys nor (b) get concert tickets. For some reason, I just wasn’t able to find someone who could spare me a ticket. I exhausted every contact, promised the moon and the stars (in a breathy voice “I’ll do anything, anything … except fork out the RM500!) … I even had contacts that actually WORKED at the hotel, the sponsors, the media, etc. But, everyone seemed to have the same idea. I’m so indignant as I feel I’d discovered them FIRST! Can anyone ELSE name their World debut? I caught the Miss World 2004 performance!It was love at first sight! I saw the career-changing Oprah showing … and these latecomers on the bandwagon had snapped up the tickets in my stead! I was most upset!

I even got invited to a private party on Saturday night by the owner of a popular night-spot in town and was promised an introduction. And what do you think happened?

Absolutely nothing! I thought God was just having another laugh at my expense. It began to appear as if my campaign was a complete failure. Never one to give up when I’ve sunk my teeth in something … the night before the concert, I finally made it to the Shang with a group of friends who’d consented to have our night out in the hotel lounge for me. (I will always be thoroughly grateful!) No one else was willing – and I had tried EVERYONE! It was a last ditch attempt, and please note it was not really stalking, but sitting in the lounge as a hotel guests … another normal Monday night after work drinks. (I checked the law, just in case anyway!)

After 2 hours on of sipping overpriced cocktails, I had pretty much given up. I kept expecting four immaculately dressed Greek Gods (okay, Spanish, French, Swiss and American respectively) to suddenly burst out in a rendition of “Regresa A Mi” right there in the hotel lobby. Or at least a hint of celebrity status – burly security guards, gaggle of screaming fans … a procession of flashbulbs and incessant clicks of the paparazzi … but again, nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I absently noted a tanned young man in a pristine white shirt. I was drawn by his happy excited chatter, and of course, the amazing looks. And lets not forget the unmistakeable voice, almost reverberating off the walls. I guess it was only because I didn't think it possible that I didn't catch it any earlier. In the distance, I didn’t think too much of the familiar curl in the middle of his forehead, the gleaming tanned skin or think to question why that dazzling mega-watt grin was so familiar.

I blame his casual attire; his jeans totally threw me off course!

Then a tall familiar figure in a beige motorcycle jacket sauntered by, and stopped to chat. My world very slowly tipped upside down - as I began to twig. Those Gallic blue blue eyes were evident even from where I was sat. As if in slow motion - the pieces of the puzzle just started falling together. Just as I was blinking in belated recognition (I can be a bit slow too sometimes!), the final piece hit me like a ton of bricks. A shorter-than-I’d-have guessed beautiful, beautiful man, with perfectly chiselled features, complete with huge piercing eyes looking downward, with all too familiar jet black hair in a ponytail; hurrying by me(!) on his way to the lifts.

I’d never seen someone with such perfect features in all my life. I think my jaw is still hanging open ... slightly! And how is it that they managed to look SO MUCH BETTER IN PERSON? God, I wouldn't have thought it possible!

He was in a suit - finally presenting me with what exactly I was expecting. A pristine black, custom-made Armani, there was no doubt about it now! It was! Urs Bühler in the flesh … but before I could blink, he was gone. He had an unexpectedly sweet smile as he disappeared round the corner, looking ever so shy, belying his superstar status. My head turned back towards the mega-watt grin and tall motorcycle jacket in a flash – NO bloody way!!!

It was it was it was!!! My very own favourite Sébastien, and the very recognisable Carlos Marin! All I could say was “Oh my God, its them!” It was really them! Over and over again. Thankfully, my friends had the presence of mind to force me to get up and approach them. I never would … in fact; I get all shy in such situations. But thankfully, 2007 has heralded a new change for this Fox. A confident, more self-assured devil may care year. (Phoebe would be so proud.)

I didn't have a clue what I was going to do until I was actually staring Carlos right in the eye. (Carlos Marin!). I can't really say why I went up to Carlos first, when it was Sébastien I loved. But I guess he did seem the friendlier one, all charm and smiles. That big welcoming grin and sparkly flirty eyes, he was much more approachable then the coolly gorgeous Sébastien, who had a stunning redhead wrapped around him. Quite off-putting, no?

The redhead turned out to be his surprisingly nice (considering I was openly leering at her boyfriend!), incredibly down-to-earth (come on, this woman gets to be with Sébastien Izambard!) and very friendly girlfriend.

In fact, I’m shocked to say I may as well have made a proper friend in her, I was busy chatting to her more than the men in question. Sébastien actually had to interrupt me not once not twice but a few times, as he stood beside us, virtually ignored.

I can be such a muppet sometimes!

He very sweetly wrote “To Vixen, Much love from: Sébastien. Take care! xoxox” for me. Sigh! I’ve got to get this framed! Je t'aime, Sébastien! Viva l’Il Divo! J'aurais aimé que la nuit dure à jamais! - I wish the night would have lasted forever.

Okay, I’m mangling the French … but OMG. What are the chances of that? The dream would have been completed should they had handed me a ticket to the next night’s showing … but unfortunately, it didn’t quite get as far as that! C'est prendre ses désirs pour des réalités. (only wishful thinking) Never mind, the memory of that night is better than attending a thousand concerts but never having that face to face contact; or getting lost in those dreamy sea-blue eyes and hearing my name being said out of those legendary lips, in that voice!

Cher Sébastien (et Carlos!)-

Merci beaucoup pour cette expérience incroyable! Je ne l'oublierai jamais. Grosses bises, Vixen xxx

“Follow your heart and your dreams will come true."

-Anonymous-

I'll never sleep again!