Page 19 of Paparazzi

A: We can’t be sure because people grow, mature, tastes change, but unless it takes fifteen years to release the next one, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be something down this line.

Q: In the spring, you start an overseas tour with twelve concerts around Europe. There are many venues planned but also two big festivals. What should fans who come to hear you expect?

A: Yes, we still can’t believe we’re finally going to visit Europe. We have a loyal fan base over there and decided to go and meet them. Some of them came to the US to follow us on tour here. They’re a blast. It’s time for us to reward them for their support. What they can expect is an energetic tour like the concert you saw tonight. We’re going to make them dance and sweat at every show!

To read the full Revolver interview and find out what else they told me last night, go to their website.

Be kind and Rock’n’Roll,

Iris

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“Do you think you’re going to tell him what you do for a living?” Emily’s question hits me as soon as I open the door.

I let her into the house after her shift at the café. I knew she’d ask. When Thomas followed me to my apartment, she watched us leave, half happy and half worried. She’s concerned about me, and knowing this makes me feel even more guilty about the turn my life has taken.

“It would be much easier if he forgets I exist.”

A little laugh escapes her lips. “Are you serious? He kissed you in a crowded place, then he came to the café to find you, accompanied you home… To make him forget you exist you’d have to remove part of his brain.” She sits next to me at the kitchen table. Her smile is sweet and understanding.

I know she’s right; this situation is anything but simple. I should have walked away the moment I fell into his arms and recognized him. I should have run and not gotten involved. Any attempt at approaching him, at this point, is a lie. It’s not just because of my job. It’s the way we met, why I was there in that alley, and the fact that I’ve lied to him all this time despite having more than one chance to tell him the truth. It’s no longer an omission. It became a straight-up lie when I kept meeting him and hid the truth about myself.

“I know,” I agree with Emily. “I refused to give him my number again, but he stayed anyway. I didn’t seek him out—I made sure I was nowhere near him when I knew he’d be out in public somewhere. I avoided him in every way, but he always found me. I don’t know what to do anymore. By the way, you told him I was going to be at the café this morning, didn’t you?”

My scolding glare doesn’t seem to affect her. She just shrugs and smiles. “Sometimes you have to help fate.”

“I don’t want to help it, Emily. I’m walking into something I already know will hurt me. I like him a lot. Right now, the love-sick teenager in me is delighted at finally having my dream come true. But I’m afraid to encourage something I already know will backfire. How do you think he’ll react when he finds out I’m a paparazzo?”

“If he finds out by accident, he’ll be mad for sure, but ifyoutell him and explain why you do it, maybe he can forgive you.” She echoes my conscience while she strokes Dexter’s fur. He has climbed onto the table to be cuddled.

“Let’s say that it’s true, that he is more understanding than a saint and that he forgives me. How do you think he’ll react when he finds out I was the one who sold the photos that almost destroyed their career four years ago?”

Emily’s eyes get compassionate, and it makes my heart tighten in my chest. She knows I’ve made too many mistakes in my life to not deserve that forgiveness. But I’m not in a position to forgive myself. Why should I expect others to?

“You were desperate, you needed money, and it was the only solution. Don’t condemn yourself. You had no choice.”

“That’s not true. I could have prostituted myself, but I didn’t. Instead of selling a piece of me, I sold them. And the thing that makes me feel the most guilty is that, despite everything, I’m so selfish I can’t stay away from him.”

“Who could resist him? He’s so gorgeous he takes your breath away—sensual, cute, and so shy you want to hug him. He’s the perfect mix of cute and sexy every woman desires. Like he’s been custom-made to set you on fire just being near him. I understand why you can’t stay away from him: on paper, he’s the perfect man for you.” She says out loud what I don’t dare say.

Dexter complains a little while Emily holds him in a hug but shows no sign of getting off the table.

“You are not helping.”

“I don’t want to help. He’s the first decent man you’ve met and you literally fell into his arms. You can’t keep punishing yourself for the rest of your life for the choices you’ve made. Life has been a bitch to you. You’ve faced difficulties people your age can’t even imagine. Give yourself a few moments of happiness. You can’t keep carrying the burden of the whole world. It’s unfair to you.”

Her words shut me up and assuage a little bit of my guilt. I always thought I didn’t have time to be happy; there was always something more urgent and vital than my happiness. Hell, sometimes I had to put aside basic necessities like a meal because I had no choice. I never paused to think for a second about myself. Even the relationships I’ve had never brought me much pleasure because my situation has always been too complicated to have a carefree dating life. All my dreams have ended—I can no longer enjoy life like an ordinary twenty-four-year-old.

The phone rings in my pocket. A message from Ron tells me that Alicia Pinker—the famous Hollywood star—is in one of Manhattan’s most prestigious restaurants with her new flame who’s twenty years younger. Her husband dumped her for a guy he met on set.

“See? I’ve allowed myself to think I have a normal life, and here reality knocks at my door. Ron asked me to go to the Mandalay to photograph Alicia. This is my work, and it will never be compatible with his life. I’m the one he hates and avoids and wears horrible caps to keep from being recognized by. He travels in cars with darkened glass to confuse people like me...to protect himself from people like me. I’ll never have any other job than this. Do you understand why this story is going to end badly?”

“Better to be hurt by an intense love story than to barely survive in a sterile life, don’t you think?” She raises an eyebrow.

I don’t dare answer her question even for myself, let alone utter it out loud. “Can I call you when I get back?” I ask, going to get the camera from under my bed.

“Yes, though I don’t think your cat will let me go. He’s so sweet and cuddly.”

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