Page 42 of Paparazzi

Iris beckons me to sit on one of the two stools, and I gladly accept. Better than standing like a jerk in the middle of her house.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, pointing to the machine.

I gladly accept. I notice her tampering with the pot, grumbling, exasperated when she can’t turn on the faucet. I get up and help her. At first, she stiffens but then makes room for me by pointing to the cupboard where I find the coffee I bought her a few days ago. I take a few seconds to look in the cabinet and see only the stuff I bought her. How could I not notice that basic things like food are missing in this house? I was so focused on her I didn’t see anything else.

Iris looks at me from a distance. Neither of us talk and, while we wait for the hot liquid to fill the pot, I observe my surroundings. Most of her stuff looks like discarded objects which she painstakingly restored. Iris has done a great job of making it all look presentable, but when you look a little closer, you see the curtains are worn and ripped in some places, the bookshelves are made of old vegetable boxes held together by metal wire. Most of the containers are nothing more than boxes of food cleaned and used for other purposes, like storing brushes. Or canned food tins used as pots for plants. Nothing in this place is new.

“You never told me what you’re doing here,” she says when we finally both sit at the table.

I scratch my neck and take a deep breath. “I was really worried about you when I saw them take you away in an ambulance the other night,” I admit with sincerity.

Iris smiles and shakes her head slightly. “Really? Because I must have missed your messages asking me how I’m doing,” she reproaches, irritated.

I’m ashamed because I deserve it, but I can’t tell her. “I couldn’t text because I don’t have your number.”

A smile slips from her lips as she lowers her gaze and shakes her head annoyed. “Lilly didn’t either, yet she found a way to message me not even half an hour after the accident. Try another excuse.”

I look down because I don’t know what to answer. I know I was an asshole, but I was pissed off. I felt betrayed, and these are things I can’t get over by snapping my fingers.

I feel her inhale with difficulty and, when I look up, she seems less angry. She seems almost resigned. “Did you come here just for this? You could have asked Lilly.”

“I spoke to her, but she didn’t reassure me much. I wanted to see with my own eyes how you are. Anyway, I didn’t come here just to find out about your condition. I also have this,” I tell her, raising the bag I’d brought and put aside when I got here. I place it on the table in front of us.

Iris peeks in it and, after a puzzled moment, widens her eyes as if diamonds were inside. “Beautiful, is it yours?”

I frown, surprised. “No, it’s for you. I know yours broke. I thought you’d like to have another one.”

Iris looks up sternly at me, and I see she’s not pleasantly impressed by my gesture. “I don’t want your charity. What is it with you? You think I live like Charlie in the basement? With a filthy blanket and clothes that smell like urine?” She gets up and goes to the sink and spills her cup out, then turns and leans on the counter, annoyed. I expected anything but this reaction.

“It’s not charity. It’s just that I thought you’d like it. You work with your camera, and I thought... I don’t know, I guess it’s my way of telling you that I accept what you do. I talked to Michael, and he opened my eyes about what happened. I’ve been harboring anger for so many years, and maybe that wasn’t the only feeling I had to carry. But until he showed me the situation from another perspective, I was mad at you, period. So I’m apologizing,” I snap, annoyed by her reaction to a gesture that was meant to be positive.

“Not everyone needs a superstar to give them gifts. People can survive without the help of ridiculously rich people’s charity. I don’t want your pity. What am I? Your new social project?” She continues angrily as if she hadn’t heard a word I said.

“No, you’re not my new project!” I get angry too, more hurt than annoyed. “I just wanted to do something nice.”

“You got mad because I lied to you, but who are you? The sweet and caring Thomas I knew until three days ago or the ruthless man who threatened me in front of my house and didn’t let me explain?” she screams angrily, and her tone pisses me off.

I burst into exasperated laughter. “Are you really reducing it to this level? Do we want to compare who’s done the most damage? Because I’d like to point out that you’re no saint either. And as much as you need money, what you did was petty, even if the consequences worked out well for everyone. And you know what? Hell, if you want that camera, good. Otherwise, throw it away, sell it, do whatever you want!”

I stand up furiously and stomp out the door, slamming it behind me.

Red Velvet Curtains Interview!

Hi, Roadies!

The wait is over. Finally, you’re going to know what the Red Velvet Curtains confessed to me during our interview. We covered some powerful topics, some of them inspiring their most meaningful songs.

Q: Your song, “I Will Rise Stronger,” that we heard at the festival, talks about bullying. As you shared yourself from that same stage, it’s based on your personal experience with this topic. Is this a commentary about the society in which we live?

A (Lilly): More than commentary, it’s the desperate cry of a victim who can no longer bear to be crushed. The experience I had when I was only fifteen years old has marked me deeply. Bullying is something that changes your life and transforms you. It can make you stronger, but it can also make you slide into a deep state of depression. I needed to channel my emotions and suffering in the only way I had to express myself at the time: music. We found that this song helped many people to process their own pain and we’re pleased about that.

Q: This aggressive bullying, nowadays, is channeled mainly through social media. What’s your relationship to it?

A: (Luke): Love and hate (laughs). Sometimes we’re still amazed at how inclined people are to confess deeply personal things to us through social media. We get the impression, reading specific messages, that people think they know us. They make assumptions, give us advice, or, in great detail, confess to us what they would not dare to say to people close to them. While it flatters us, it scares us to death. Because some get very insistent and ask very personal questions that we don’t want to answer. We always walk the thin line between not answering and giving the impression of agreeing or answering and starting an uproar because we disagree with them.

Q: I assume “I Will Rise Stronger” will be included on the new album. How far along are you? Are you finished with it? The record company has not yet announced a release date.

A: (Martin) We finally have a final list of songs that will end up on the first album (laughs). I swear before I signed with the record company, I had no idea it was a problem to have too many tracks. It was hard to decide which ones made the list and which didn’t; each of us has songs we’re attached to that didn’t make the cut. But now we can go ahead with the promotion and then launch it.

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