"Look at me my dear. Wipe your tears, that asshole doesn't deserve you to suffer for him. You are going to be strong, no… you are strong! Tomorrow you are going to get up, look in the mirror, tell yourself how beautiful you are and how many men would like to be in your bed. As soon as you wake up, you will eat life to the fullest. OK baby?

His eyes shine, his breath quickens and I feel the pain he has to see me like this, when he places a warm and tender kiss on my forehead.

“Okay, but on one condition.

He smiles at me.

"Anything you want sweetie.

I look at him mischievously and ask him what I'm sure I'll get.

“I want to sleep in your arms tonight.

Her lips stretch to show me her beautiful teeth.

- My blondes will be disappointed, but you know I can not refuse you. Good night my Paola to me, he whispers to me.

“Good night, Theo.

Well wedged, warm against his skin, the night thus spares me from dark thoughts.

Ring, ring, ring…

- Grrrr ... This cursed alarm clock.

Theo is still sleeping, even the sound of the bell hasn't succeeded in rousing him from his dreams. His face is relaxed and I can't help but snuggle up in his arms for a few more minutes before getting up.

- Naughty! Mmm... You take advantage of the body of a poor sleeping man. It's not pretty, pretty, all that, Miss Bianco!

He teases me and presses me even harder against him.

"You're the one abusing a beautiful, tearful girl, Monsieur Romy!"

We burst out laughing and heckle like children as we start a pillow fight. Only, the second ringing of this damn alarm clock refocuses me on the harsh reality: going to work.

My arrival at the editorial office makes me nauseous. Indeed, my colleagues welcome me with applause and sing "long live the bride" with beautiful smiles. Only, my pale complexion makes the atmosphere fall like a soufflé forgotten too long on the table. Big tears roll down my cheeks without me even being able to hold them back. My crestfallen head must speak for me, because I have no questions about my so-called marriage. My boss, as for him, equal to himself, does not make sentiment.

- Hello Paola! You're five minutes late! Know that the world belongs to those who get up early. This is not mine, but I approve of the author of this quote.

I wipe my cheeks and head straight to my office. He doesn't even ask me why I'm sad. This guy really is a heartless machine.

As soon as my bottom touches the seat of my chair, the light on my phone tells me that my boss is already trying to reach me. Sighing, I press the button.

- Yes sir.

- Paola. Come see me right away and don't think you're going to be lazy, I have a mission for you.

"I'm coming right away, Monsieur Truffaud.

What a jerk! Couldn't he have called me into his office as soon as I arrived? No, he preferred to drive me crazy in order to assert his power as a leader.

- So ... Paola, I assigned you on a matter of very high importance. Let me explain, a famous pianist is currently performing in Rennes and he has accepted that a journalist follow his career throughout France for six months. You will say to me: “why me? » and to that, I will answer you : « Mister Lewis Gabriel is a temperamental man, demanding and allergic to women groupies ». You are the only sane, married girl now in this establishment. So I'm reassured that you're not going to pounce on him like a hysterical fan.

- But I…

- Its good ! Do not thank me. Oh, by the way! You leave immediately, he is already waiting for you. Really, it's a habit for you to be late?

- But…

"We don't have time to waste on useless speeches. Ah, I forgot with your interruptions! Of course, I want a headline-grabbing scoop on this mysterious man. No magazine has yet had the chance to land more than an hour of interview with him, so I'm counting on you to ensure. You have carte blanche, which means that all means are good to make the front page.

I just nod my head, since I can't get more than two words to line up with him. Well… let's recap: I have to meet a well-known, temperamental, pianist, follow him for six months, get a scoop at all costs and all that right away, without even having time to brief me on him.

Suffice to say, I'm in deep shit.

Rennes Opera, here I come!

I love this place, I would spend hours looking at this wonderful architecture.

For the first approach with this famous pianist, I made a short visit to my apartment, in order to put on a long, tight and very chic black dress. Also, in order to have confidence, I generously stroked my lips with a vermilion lipstick. I must admit that I am rather stressed, it is true that my articles on the "music'mag" are generally on the last page and in a tiny insert, at the bottom left. In short, no one reads them. I suspect that Mr. Truffaud has sent me to hell with this apparently undrinkable star, but this may be my only chance to make the front page of this magazine.

Come on… I take a deep breath, readjust my dress while wiping my sweaty hands on it, restore some volume to my loose hair and swell my generous breasts.

What ? I give the best of myself to succeed in this interview.

My high heels offer this sumptuous structure, a soft music with each of my steps. I walk elegantly towards the dressing rooms, while remaining focused on my approach. Yes, it would be unfortunate to spread out like a puppet deprived of its sons and lose all credibility.

Go ahead my Paola, you rock, you're sexy and you're going to make this guy drool!

A little thought for my love of Theo, I apply his method "you're the best my beautiful! ".

Good… enough flattery, I stand straight as an “i” in front of the door where the name of Gabriel Lewis is inscribed. Gently I touch the golden plate that adorns this entrance and strike three sharp blows firmly. But, contrary to what I could imagine, it is not the sound of Mr. Lewis' voice that reaches my ears. Indeed, a mirror cabinet of about two meters opens the lair of the beast and with a dark look, intimates me to enter. When this giant closes the door behind me, I let a small cry of amazement escape my mouth.

It's time for me to mentally repeat myself, my qualities: "I'm the best, I have confidence in myself, I'm going to impress him, I..."

- Please take a seat! I don't have much time for you, so don't ask stupid questions, please.

Ouch! Hello madam or miss, one or the other would have done the trick, I am delighted to receive you…

Bah, there, it is not at all the style of the house. What a bastard! Not only does he need a baboon to open this damn door for me, but he also disrespects me.

Stupid, boorish and… triple jerk! And to top it off, yes, the icing on the cake, he stands facing the wall, at the back of the dressing room, arms behind his back. I can therefore apply the famous phrase: “talk to my ass, my head is sick”. However, as a good professional that I am, I swallow my pride and my recent hatred of the male sex, to send him a most delicate sentence.

- Hello Sir. We're going to get on very well I think, because I don't have a lot of time to waste either.

There, that is said. In your face !

What ? I was polite and concise, so very professional. On the other hand, Mr. bodyguard, does not seem to appreciate my frankness and throws himself on me, grabs my left arm, shakes me like a plum tree and prepares to drag me by force towards the exit. For his part, the musician remains stoic, to the point where I suspect he has a stick stuck in his posterior.

"Let me go now, you brute!" I won't repeat it twice, if you persist in dismembering me, I'll stick my shoes in your bells!

Shocked, Brutus releases the pressure exerted by his big fingers a little, to the point of cutting off my blood circulation. Then, a light laugh echoes in the room.

— It’s okay Marcus, Madame Conti can interview me.

Marcus releases me from his grip, which triggers my cute, bitch smile. In addition, I regain the hair of the beast, because I am very proud to have managed to cheer up the star by making him laugh.

—Paola Bianco. My name is Miss Bianco.

“But, your superior assured me that you were married, so not…

“It’s quite complicated and I’m not here to flaunt my private life. Besides, you overestimate yourself when you think I'm going to throw myself at you like a crazy groupie.

No, but who does this guy think he is?

- Your questions. I listen !

At your command, General! I really have a knack for meeting disrespectful men.

"Could you look me in the eye?" Talking to your back is a bit borderline.

The watchdog reacts directly to my request and his response is scathing.

"Listen babe, if you keep teasing the boss like that, I'll fly you outside, without touching the floor!"

Grrr… for a bit, he would bite, the moron! Too bad, I insist.

"Turn around, Mr. Lewis, please," I pleaded.

My tone is softer, almost pleading, and before Marcus grabs me by the skin of my ass to send me into orbit, Gabriel obeys.

"Are you satisfied, Miss Bianco?" Do you like the show? Do you feel in a position of superiority now? At least, before, we were equal...

He utters these last words with such deep sadness that my heart skips a beat. Any hostility on my part, comes in a fraction of a second, to disappear. It then takes me a few seconds to come to my senses and finally bounce back on his words.

“I now find myself facing a man who gives me his attention and his respect.

“Certainly… but you also find yourself facing a man whom you can examine from every angle while it is impossible for him to do the same.

The pain can be read in his words, but I don't want him to feel any pity on my part for his blindness.

“And, I’m lucky to be able to watch such a well-balanced man.

I walk on a wire, yes, I play with fire sending him such lines, but the adrenaline it gives me is invigorating. I finally have the impression of living, of taking risks even if it means burning my wings. His reaction is rather positive, because he sketches a micro smile and invites me to take a seat on a chair opposite his.

- Thank you Marcus, you can leave.

Hooray! I will keep my feet on the ground.

- This interrogation, it's coming!

Well... I won a battle, but not the war. It doesn't eat out of my hand, either.

“I'm going to start by reading you my notes on your identity so that you can validate them. So… Mr. Gabriel Lewis, you are 35 years old, you were born in Rennes, so this passage here is for you a return to your sources.

He nods with a brief nod of his head.

“You have two brothers and you are married to…

- Shut up ! Poor idiot! How dare you come and meet me without even bothering to comb through my life? The internet is teeming with information about me. Get out now before I lose control of my language!

I'm flabbergasted… What just happened?

With the little time that my wonderful boss granted me to collect information on this pianist, I most certainly missed an episode in the life of this star. Maybe Mrs. Lewis made him wear horns and he's going through a divorce. This would explain why he is so keen on the subject. In short, I do not ask for my rest and take to their heels before taking the lightning in the face.

The road that brings me home seems endless. Countless scenarios about the Lewis couple cross my mind and I have only one desire, to find myself face-to-face with my computer to deepen my research. Barely the door of my apartment crossed, I throw myself on my screen and peel all the articles concerning this strange individual. Finally came the revelations about the famous Mrs. Lewis. Linda, beautiful brunette with a devastating smile. The writings recounting their breakup are quite vague, only it is specified that it was she who left their home. I therefore conclude that my gaffe awakened in him a pain still present five years after the facts. As a good journalist that I am, I have a feeling that the scoop so long awaited by my superior is at hand. I absolutely have to earn his trust so that he spills the beans on why and how his ex-wife abandoned him. However, I am aware that I will have my work cut out for him, he is not the type of man to confide his sorrows to anyone.

Well… I think a good hot bath will allow me to forget about work. It is with pleasure that I abandon my sumptuous outfit and let myself slip into this scented water covered with a light white foam. When…

Knock Knock knock

Damn ! Who could it be? And then thin, in the absence of a response from me, the intruder will go home.

Knock Knock knock…

"I know you're there sweetheart. Open!

Knock, knock, knock… I know you're there, sweetheart. Open!

I hear a click, then footsteps echo on the floor, but I'm not worried. This voice, I have always known it.

"Where are you, my dear?"

- In my bath !

- Cool ! I come to rub your back.

- With pleasure.

Attention ! I see your eyes widening as you pass judgment on our relationship.

Théo is like a great friend to me, no more, no less. So, yes, he enters my bathroom, while I'm not dressed. Oh, sacrilege! The following will not speak in my favor and may make you doubt my words a little more, but wrongly.

My friend, in order not to wet his clothes, takes off his sweater, as well as his t-shirt.

Oh, I'm good ! He's just shirtless, we're not going to make a big deal out of it. I admit all the same, as an art lover, that her beautifully drawn bust is very pleasant to look at.

In short… he walks towards me, takes my flower, you know that famous net twisted on itself which, once covered with a strip of shower gel and in contact with your skin, generates an abundant foam.

Here you are. Me too by the way and I assure you that a foamy back massage performed by Theo is worth all the muscle relaxants in the world.

I wrap my arms around my knees, tilt my head towards them in order to offer my neck a little more to these delicious back and forth movements, close my eyelids, slow my heart rate by breathing slowly and complete this pleasurable moment, intoxicating myself with the smell of Tiare flower and Monoi that spreads all around me. Gone in this dream of sweetness, I would almost forget to speak to my benefactor.

- You have nimble fingers my darling.

My voice is also completely relaxed and surely under the spell of this pause, because it betrays me by coming out of my mouth, in the form of an erotic breath. Which elicits a mocking, even satisfied, laugh from my handsome masseur.

"You don't know how much.

It's time for me to come out of my trance state.

- Rascal! Pass me my toweling bathrobe, instead of talking nonsense.

"At your command, Miss Bianco!" But, you will admit that I scored a point. You are under my spell and I am irresistible.

He enjoys my moment of weakness, while rubbing my back and hugging me. I take the time to freeze frame, to anchor my eyes in hers, to lower them to her fleshy mouth, then to photograph in my memory, her smile which lights up her face. Sometimes I take a few seconds to imprint on myself moments in my life when I simply feel good. At this precise moment, I realize that Théo has an important place in my heart and that as soon as his hunt for blondes is over, he will abandon me to spend all his time with the chosen one of his heart. The very idea of ​​no longer knowing him near me overwhelms me with a wave of sadness.

- Hey! What's going on my dear? But…I was kidding…I wasn't really kidding you. OK, OK… We stay at 0-0 and I'm not that attractive.

He covers my face with kisses and very quickly, these little burning touches on my skin, make me smile again.