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"Her" was the Superstar.
The couple in the car ahead of them don't appear to attract as much attention, although they must be important because no one gets as far as those steps without having scaled many mountains in life.
Her companion appears to relax a little, and now it's Gabriela's turn to feel tense, not knowing quite how to behave. Her hands are sweating. She grabs the handbag stuffed with paper, breathes deeply, and says a prayer.
"Walk slowly," says the Star, "and don't stand too close to me."
Their limousine draws up alongside the steps. Both doors are opened from outside.
Suddenly, an immense roar seems to fill the universe, shouts coming from all sides--she hadn't realized until then that she was in a soundproof car and could hear nothing. The Star gets out, smiling, as if his tantrum of two minutes ago had never happened and as if he were still the center of the universe, despite his apparently true confessions to her in the car. He is a man in conflict with himself, his world, and his past, and who cannot now turn back.
"What am I thinking about?" Gabriela tells herself. "I should be concentrating on the moment, on going up the steps!"
They both wave to the "unimportant" photographers and spend some time there. People hold out scraps of paper to him, and he signs autographs and thanks his fans. Gabriela isn't sure whether she should remain by his side or continue up toward the red carpet and the entrance to the Palais des Congres; fortunately, she's saved by someone holding out pen and paper and asking for her autograph.
How she wishes this ceremony were being broadcast live to the whole world and that her mother could see her arriving in that dazzling dress, accompanied by a really famous actor (about whom she's beginning to have her doubts, but, no, she must drive away such negative thoughts), and see her giving the most important autograph of her twenty-five years of life! She can't understand the woman's name, so she smiles and writes something like "with love."
The Star comes over to her.
"Come on. The way ahead is clear now."
The woman to whom she has just addressed an affectionate message reads what she's written and says angrily:
"I don't want your autograph! I just need your name so that I can identify you in the photo."
Gabriela pretends not to hear; nothing in the world can destroy this magic moment.
They start going up the steps, with policemen forming a kind of security cordon, even though the public are a long way off now. On either side, on the building's facade, gigantic plasma screens reveal to the poor mortals outside what is going on in that open-air sanctuary. Hysterical screams and clapping can be heard in the distance. When they reach a broader step, as if they had reached the first floor, she notices another crowd of photographers, except this time, they are properly dressed and are shouting out the Star's name, asking him to turn this way, no, this way, just one more shot, please, a little closer, look up, look down! Other people pass them and continue up the steps, but the photographers aren't interested in them. The Star has lost none of his glamour; he looks as if he doesn't care and jokes around to show how relaxed and at ease he is with all this.
Gabriela notices that the photographers are interested in her too, although, of course, they don't shout out her name (they've no idea who she is), imagining that she must be his new girlfriend. They ask them to stand together so that they can get a photo of the two of them. The Star obliges for a few seconds, but keeps a prudent distance and avoids any physical contact.
Yes, they've successfully managed to avoid the Superstar, who will, by now, have reached the door of the Palais des Congres to be greeted by the president of the Film Festival and the mayor of Cannes.
The Star gestures to her to continue up the stairs, and she obeys.
She looks ahead and sees another gigantic screen strategically placed so that people can see themselves. A loudspeaker announces:
"And now we have..."
And the voice gives the name of the Star and of his most famous film. Later, someone tells her that everyone inside the room is watching the same scene being shown on the plasma screen outside.
They go up the remaining steps, reach the door, greet the president of the Festival and the mayor, and go inside. The whole thing has lasted less than three minutes.
Now the Star is surrounded by people who want to talk to him and flatter him and take photos (yes, even the chosen take photos of themselves with famous people). It's suffocatingly hot inside, and Gabriela starts to worry that her makeup will run...
Her makeup!
She had completely forgotten. She's supposed to go through a door on the left where someone will be waiting for her outside. She walks mechanically down some steps and past a couple of security guards. One of them asks if she's going outside for a smoke and intends coming back in for the film. She says no and carries on.
She crosses another series of metal barriers and no one asks her anything because she's leaving, not trying to get in. She can see the backs of the crowd who are still waving and shouting at the limousines that continue to arrive. A man comes toward her, asks her name, and tells her to follow him.
"Can you just wait a minute?"
The man seems surprised, but nods his assent. Gabriela has her eyes fixed on an old carousel, which has possibly been there since the beginning of the last century and which continues to turn, while the children riding it rise up and down.
"Can we go now?" asks the man politely.
"Just one more minute."
