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I take his hand, but now I wait for him to guide me. The crowd outside is just as big as the crowd inside, and we take ages to plow through the ocean of people. We walk in a slow march that makes me bored to death.
Once the traffic finally clears, we start talking again, “I think I got your stalker,” Brody says calmly, looking straight ahead.
“Really?” I turn to him with hope stamped on my face.
“Really. I got an FBI consultant to analyze the pictures. And compare them to a picture of your friend Ben,” he says.
“And?” I elongate the vowel to intensify my expectation.
“Very likely to be Ben,” Brody says, sighing. “More than 85% probability. I already informed the police, and they are going to search his place soon.”
Now I’m the one sighing. Ben always seemed harmless, but when Brody mentioned he could be the stalker, my apprehension only grew.
“Bummer,” I say. “I think it would be easier if it was someone unknown, but Ben has been with us for such a long time.”
He nods. “They’ll let us know what they find.” He makes a turn for the street where the hotel is. “And what about the phone calls?”
“Huff!” I say. “My phone has been turned off for the whole day. I had no idea of what to say.”
“I just declined to comment,” he adds, “and they took it the completely wrong way. Journalism is dead.”
I shake my head with a smile of resignation. “We just can’t confirm anything yet.”
And he reaches for my hand under the city night lights.
We get to the hotel in no time from there. In the next venue, I’ll be staying in the same hotel as Sweets, but for now they let me stay at my own place. Wondering if I should have gone home to shower first, we’re admitted to the terrace and head there, my mind eager and wondering what I am going to find there.
“Excited for your first after-show party?” Brody asks, hands tucked behind his back.
“I’ve been to others…” I giggle. “But none this big.”
“It’s the first time I’ve see a star rising like you are,” he says, looking down at me so lovingly I can’t help but want to hold him.
“You think I’m a star?” I ask, almost in a squeal, clasping my hands together in front of me.
“There’s no other way to put it.”
Inside the elevator he doesn’t touch me, but I can feel the warmth in his body language and voice. But once the elevator arrives at its destination, and I see all those people circling around to the sound of ambient music, I take a hold of his arm and step inside with him as my trophy.
He looks at me, but I can’t make out his expression because of the sunshades. I gently remove them from his face, stashing them in his front pocket. In his eyes I find uncertainty, but also the safety I need to feel whole.
“I don’t know anyone in here!” I exclaim, awkward.
“It’s still early. Sweets will be here any minute,” Brody says, soothing.
I turn around and see an open area, where a bar awaits those thirsty for a drink. I get a soda with lemon, vehemently forbidding myself alcohol until I know for sure if I’m pregnant or not. Brody gets sparkling water because he’ll be driving later.
Once again, I guide him by the hand towards the edge of the balcony, and I stay there, with my free hand on the rail and my drink hand close to my chest.
“If someday…” I start, all dreamlike and airy, “I am the headliner, and Sweets the opening act… Will you still be by my side?”
Brody embraces me from behind, his drink set at the edge as he speaks to me. “That’s not going to take a long time.”
His words are reassuring, and I smile at the thought of headlining my own tour in the next year or two. But still…
“You didn’t answer my question,” I say.
He shakes his head and kisses me on the cheek. “Unless you get too big for my humble company,” he snickers, not even taking himself seriously, “then, yes. Yes, I will.”
