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There is one fan like no other. He dresses the part, speaks the part, sings the part, and will wait as many hours as it takes, as many times as it takes, for even a fleeting glimpse of the object of his adoration. He is the ultimate fan: the Michael Jackson fan.

At Earls Court Arena, site of the World Music Awards, The King of Pop is on everyone’s lips.  He is a big joker, that Michael Jackson. Last night at his hotel, as the fans waited for any sign of him, he flicked the lights on and off in his room, raising cheers from below. He even stepped out and waved from his balcony.

Men in wigs and outfits circa Thriller burst into song every few minutes. Three of them have come all the way from France to see Michael Jackson.  With their camp-follower mentality and their wanna-be costumes, they are not unlike the infamous Trekkies.  There is a big difference between the fans and the hounds:  For true autograph hounds, celebrities are just a means to an end. It is the signature they are really interested in, not the person.

The fans wait in an area off to the side of the red carpet.  The prime spot, right at the middle of the carpet, filled up much earlier than they bothered to arrive. That’s where the autograph hounds have been camped for twelve hours. There are about fifty of them, and the guards will not let anyone else in. It has become a V.I.P. area.

It’s fairly quiet in there. People sit against the fence in groups, chatting amiably, snacking, looking at pictures, getting a kick out of the screaming and chanting Michael Jackson fans. You would never see any of them starting a sing-along or dressing as their favorite star. In fact, unless a certain celebrity particularly tickles their fancy, as Daniel Craig does for Pam, the autograph hounds do not seem particularly thrilled by any of the stars. They are not obsessed.  They are not celebrity stalkers.

 “Celebrities depend for their status and popularity on a larger group of people who observe them and their image from a distance,” writes Jessica Evans in the book,  Understanding Media: Inside Celebrity.   “… any charisma that celebrities possess must be a consequence of the distance from their audience. Celebrity and its charismatic effect are dependent on the lack of a face-to-face relationship.”

Maybe that’s why hounds do not squeal with delight when they see a celebrity. They have become too close.  The celebrity has become demystified.  The hounds know who is short, who is prettier in films than in person, who is a bad signer, who is rude to his fans. When a security guard confesses he has a crush on Cameron Diaz, they scoff, ‘she might seem sweet on television, but we could tell a few stories about what she’s really like.’

Still, when the spotlights come on and the action begins on the other side of the carpet, the hounds shout names and thrust out their glossies. Admittedly, they too are a little excited to see Michael Jackson.

A big man, 6’5”, stands against the fence in the middle of the V.I.P. section. He shows up at all the events.  He knows the security guards. He gets everyone’s autograph. He has the whole thing down to a fine art.  He is The Autograph King.  He calls himself The Enforcer.

One female celebrity took a look at the size of him and asked him to be her bodyguard, an offer he refused. When he stands at the front of the crowd – where he always stands – no one can mess with him or his friends. Never mind that no one can see past him either.

His name is Nick.  He is 25 years old and works in the PR department of the World Cancer Research Fund. He also puts in full-time hours as an autograph hound, an avocation he first became interested in as a 12 year old on a family trip to Florida.  His father used him as an excuse to get autographs from action stars at Planet Hollywood.

Now, he sees the whole thing as a game.

‘I got two thousand points for Michael Jackson!’ he calls to a friend at the Flushed Away premiere in Leicester Square.

The friend looks at him in disbelief.

‘Just kidding,’ Nick says. ‘I only got four points. But I should’ve got more. Michael Jackson, Wacko Jacko, after all!’

The point system was devised by another collector and works like this: four points for every autograph you get in person, three for every one you get at a convention, two points if you buy it and one if you get it through the mail.

There are no prizes, but playing the point system helps get them through the long hours of waiting, particularly on nights like this when even Pam seems a little bored. She even got here late, only four hours ago. She stands a little apart from the crowd, sighs, ‘I guess I’ll have another smoke before it starts.’ She is just not as excited as last time. Then again, there was Daniel Craig to look forward to last time.

Her eyes light up, remembering that night. ‘At the Bond premiere, when I saw Daniel, I told him he was really fit. He said “you’re cheeky, aren’t you?” and he signed two autographs for me!’  This premiere, on the other hand, is nothing but teen idols and reality show hosts and soap opera stars. B and C-listers at best.

With all the time they invest in autograph collecting, Nick and Pam could be making money. Online sites like eBay, and dealerships like Fraser’s Autographs in Britain, have turned autograph collecting from a pastime to a potentially lucrative business. PADA, the Professional Autograph Dealers Association, has nearly 50 member dealerships across Europe and America.

One such dealership is La Scala Autographs, based in the U.S. James Camner, who works there, has supported himself and his family for 30 years dealing autographs. He has seen first-hand how much money a prized autograph can bring in, like the $500,000 someone once paid for Mozart’s signature.

But Nick and Pam would not think of selling their collection, their prized possessions.  In fact, they hate the greedy dealers who show up at premieres and hog all the stars’ attention, trying to get them to sign four or five autographs at a time. The only time Pam yells at celebrities on the red carpet is when they spend too much time with dealers and not enough time with genuine collectors like herself.

For the true hounds, the celebrities are more like friends. The hounds rave about what a nice guy a certain actor is, laugh about that funny thing another one did a few weeks back, sympathize when one seems a little under the weather. When a friend of Pam and Nick’s recounts a conversation he had with “Tom” a few weeks ago, one would think he was talking about a good buddy, not Tom Cruise.

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