Page 8 of Paparazzi

“No, I don’t know. Not that I’m offended, but... For Christ’s sake, I don’t even know,” I confess.

Lilly smiles and sips some of her coffee. “When you told us that the right woman had to fall into your arms, I didn’t think you meant it literally,” she says, trying to play it down.

I burst out laughing, covering my mouth to avoid attention from the few customers inside this small cafe. I like this place because it’s intimate, nestled between rows of offices that no one knows about. It’s not the usual tourist trap you find in Manhattan; here I can relax without putting a thousand layers of clothes on to hide.

“Now let’s not overdo it. She’s not the woman of my life.”

“But she intrigues you. I’ve never seen you so fascinated by a woman.”

It’s not an accusation, just a simple observation that points out evidence I have decided to ignore. “I don’t know. I do think it’s different this time, but not because she’s different. I don’t know her enough to tell if that’s the case. But she’s one of the rare women who didn’t ask me about Damian, who seemed really interested in what I had to say. For the first time in a long time, I was just Thomas Simons, drummer of the Jailbirds and not ‘The Drummer of Damian’s Band.’ She caught my attention because of it. Does that make sense, or do I sound like a fool?”

“She didn’t ask you about Damian. I already like this Iris.”

I look her in the eye, and she’s smiling. The first time I met her, I thought she was just a kid full of insecurities. Instead, I found a true friend. Not just because she’s my best friend’s girlfriend, but because I feel comfortable with Lilly.

“Thomas, I must congratulate you. You have officially become an adult. You got your act together,” she announces solemnly.

I bump shoulders with her slightly. “Do you know you’re more idiotic than Damian sometimes?”

“That’s why we’re so good together.”

I smile and shake my head. These two will drive me crazy.

“Seriously, maybe this girl got your attention because she doesn’t treat you like a superstar. The way you described her, she seems like a smart girl, not jumping on you as soon as she recognized you. Maybe that’s what enthralls you about her.”

“That doesn’t justify me being glued to the internet like a maniac looking for her.”

“Or maybe you’re just helping fate since they’re the only clues you have, and it’s not that easy to find someone in a city like New York. She could be anywhere.”

Lilly’s words don’t help me. Knowing the chances of us meeting again by accident are so slim shatters all my hopes. What disturbs me, however, is precisely the fact that I’m hoping for it. I haven’t invested so much energy in someone since I was a teenager. At the time, I didn’t understand anything.

“I don’t believe in destiny,” I reply. “I believe that life is just a series of choices and consequences.”

“Please, don’t abandon your cynicism. You might actually become a human being capable of loving!” Lilly teases, raising her hands as a sign of surrender.

I like how straightforward she is. Daily, it amazes me how she can stand all our bullshit without falling for a second for the moronic things we say. She must really be a saint, or she’s crazier than all of us together.

“A couple of years in this business, and you’ll see—you’re going to agree with me,” I chuckle as I finish my coffee.

“Probably, but I’ll never admit it. I’d rather tear my vocal cords apart than give you the satisfaction,” she says, rising.

I laugh heartily and follow her out of the cafe and onto Manhattan’s busy streets. “Do you think Damian is finished laughing at what I told you two?”

Lilly looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Do you know Damian? Do you think it’s possible that he could let go of something like this? He’s probably already called Michael and Simon to tell them the details, adding some of his own, and they’ll all make fun of you until you’re old.”

Her words confirm my fears. I’ve known these guys all my life, they’ll never miss an opportunity like this, and I laugh a little because I would do precisely the same if I were in their situation. I open the back door to the recording studio and let Lilly in before following her. It’s going to be a long day.

I reluctantly wake up when Dexter begins to tap my face with his paw, meowing as if I haven’t fed him in weeks. I look at the clock. It’s only five-thirty.

“I hope you’ve finished every single piece of dry food inside your bowl, or I swear this time I’ll use your tail as a candle wick.”

The meow of protest is more of a mockery than a real moan of terror at my vain threats. I could never lay a finger on him, and he takes advantage of it by waking me up at impossible times and making me do whatever he wants. I’ve never accepted anyone running my life or giving me orders, and here I am, succumbing to a cat I love who doesn’t reciprocate. He is the only male who commands me simply by putting his nose to my face and rubbing himself, giving me some love, five minutes at a time, one day a month, only during leap years. And I’m cleaning his litter box morning and night.

I put the dry food in the bowl, which, as I already knew, is full on the sides but empty in the middle. I give Dexter the stink eye, but he looks at me with those huge, sweet eyes that make me speechless.

“Betrayer,” I whisper as I put water inside the coffee machine and half the amount of usual coffee, since I don’t have much left and I have to survive until the next time I get paid.

I turn on my laptop while I wait for it to brew, scrolling through email alerts about famous people in New York, and immediately notice that today’s hot news is about the Jailbirds. A week ago, they launched a new competition for their fans, and the winners will get to listen to the three unreleased songs from their upcoming album. Officially, the first release date is next week, but the luckiest fans on earth were airlifted, first-class, and put up in one of New York’s most luxurious hotels to listen to the three songs this morning.

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