The linx gaze

By Senis Leila

Arina is a small-town girl who works in an art gallery in central Moscow.. Her life flows quietly, until by chance she meet Steven Clarke, the famous singer of the Floating Numbers, and there's already chemistry, desire, and a wild passion. All of a sudden Arina get sucked in a golden world, made of journey's, concerts, backstage and lusty hotel, but soon she will find herself forced to leave that dream, to go back to her everyday life. But destiny forces are unpredictable and will bring new surprises and twists that will change her life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: lfapublisher
• Release date: Apr 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9791220292283

Book preview

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THE LYNX GAZE

A novel by Senis Leila

THE LYNX GAZE

A Novel by Senis Leila

First edition October 2020

Isbn 9788833432601

The following novel is purely fictional,

any resemblance to real person or events its pure coincidence

Cover art by Giorgio Smiroldo.

LFA Publisher

Lello Lucignano Editore

Via A. Diaz, 17 -80023-

Caivano -Napoli, Italy

Partita Iva 06298711216

www.lfaeditorenapoli.it --- [e-mail]

Distribution by Libro Co. Italia -Firenze -

PROLOGUE

I had to hurry or I wouldn’t have made it. I had been sitting there for hours.

I had just turned off the printer, but it was still buzzing in my head. I looked away from the monitor and smiled,under all those paperwork there was my desk. I took my mobile from the drawer, I had turned the ringer off so as not to be disturbed. There were three missed calls, from my cousin.

I slipped it into my pocket and promised myself I would call her back later. The clock read eleven o’clock, and at noon on the dot I was going to hand in my work to the boss. I looked contentedly at the bundle of coloured folders. They were divided into alphabetical order, perfectly arranged. I held them in my hand like a precious vase, They were all articles that were to appear in the July magazine.

I had revised and titled them, a meticulous job that had gone on for weeks. Who knows, if the boss had noticed my skills, he might have finally hired me and I would have solved all my

problems. I was going to watch.

Suddenly a colleague of mine appeared at the door. Would you like coffee? Let’s go to the café on the corner.

Yuri! I exclaimed as I rummaged through my paperwork.

I’d been working in that office for a month, but I’d never been to that café. It was quite crowded, dozens of employees crowded at the counter with a receipt in their hands, that was the time when everyone went on break.

Yuri immediately approached the counter to place his order. A macchiato for the young lady, please.

It’s been a month since we last went on break together. How do you still remember how I like my coffee?

He pointed a finger at his temple. Well, an editor needs an iron memory, even for the little things.

Yuri was a really nice guy, his checked jacket stood out among all those sad people dressed in grey.

"By the way, I haven’t thanked you yet: if you didn’t help me

I’d still be looking for a second job. "

Don’t thank me, it’s not necessary, he assured me.

Oh yes, it does. The salary I earn in an art gallery is not enough, and my cousin demands half the rent of the apartment every month.

The barman placed two steaming coffees on the counter and Yuri hurried to take some sachets of sugar.

Do you still work for that gallery? I thought that a job at the newspaper would solve all your financial problems. "

«The gallery is in danger of closing, I can’t leave Igor right now. And then I studied art, I like being among the paintings "

I replied, touching the edge of the cup with my fingers.

What office are you in now? he asked me, biting into a croissant.

I’m in the one next to the graphics studio.

And what do they make you do? The buzz was so loud that I could hardly hear his voice.

"The boss has instructed me to find titles for some articles and

select the photos to publish. "

If I’m not mistaken it’s one of your favorite activities.

"I love it! Do you think that at first they asked me to make some

corrections, for me it was a walk. "

I think they did it to test your skills. Then winking his eye he added: Who knows, maybe one day you will become an editor too.

It seems a bit early to make a career, I’ve just arrived

I replied, frowning.

Yet something tells me you’ll make it. Then he glanced at his watch. We better go, I have a meeting later.

Outside the bar he hit us with a wave of hot air, but luckily the ride was short. When we returned I breathed a sigh of relief: the the editorial offices were always cool because of the air conditioning. I felt so lucky, I certainly couldn’t afford it at home.

He motioned for me to follow him.

Where are we going?

Come on, I have something for you.

Yuri’s office was really nice. Located on the upper floors, he was offering one magnificent view over the city. From a distance you could see the skyscrapers of the Moscow International Business Center. Magnificent cascades of green vines descended from shelves and racks, and the walls were carpeted with images of famous actors and rock stars. Arranged in a row there were several tables; a large monitor dominated one of them, while on others there were giant posters. From two tiny speakers relaxing background music played.

Here you are, she said, handing me a large envelope.

What is that?

«They are photographs. The boss told me to hand them over to you for the new job. "

As I reached for the envelope, something caught my attention. A face was staring at me insistently from one of the posters on a table. It had something familiar, but I couldn’t understand

who he was.

Yuri noticed it and smiled. You like it, huh? Millions of women want it. Men like it too. "

Sorry, who would it be?

He made a surprised face. «But how, don’t you know him? It’s Steven Clarke, the lead singer of Floating Numbers. "

I took a closer look at that image and at that point I only needed a few seconds to remember.

I immediately remembered a period of many years earlier, between the end of the 80s and the beginning of the 90s, when I spent hours unloading music from the computer, and… of course, the Floating Numbers! How the heck had I forgotten them?

Steven wore long hair early in his career - now he had it short and grizzled at the temples - and the goatee. The emerald green eyes, barely surrounded by small wrinkles on the sides, shone exactly as then, even through the silver frame of the glasses.

Even his smile remained the same: breathtakingly beautiful.

During my twenties, after my parents’ divorce, I had lived for some time at the home of my mother and her new partner, convinced that that had become my new family, but in a short time I had changed my mind: no one cared more about me and in the house I became a kind of ghost who appeared only to be scolded, until I began to spend more and more hours outside. During the night outings I used to hang out with friends who were smokings blunts, and I had tried too. I liked that high, it was a way to have fun and not think about anything. In a short time I became the shadow of myself, I slept all day and lived at night, until I decided to say enough. I had phoned my father and him I asked if I could go and live with him. I still remember her peremptory tone: You can only come here if you resume your studies.

I accepted immediately and the next day I was already at his house.

He had been very happy to have me near and he had shown me with pride all electronic equipment of him; he was an enthusiast

of HI-FI and had recently bought a CD player with remote control; in the past, owning one was a privilege for a few.

Next to the stereo there was a stack of compact discs that my father had recommended me to treat with care: a boy from the village he had lent and sooner or later they would have to be returned. Among them was Pure Green by Floating Numbers. I had always enjoyed rock music, but hearing that album was like an enlightenment. Those dark and mysterious sounds touched deep chords of my soul and were in perfect harmony with my essence. The In my first year of high school, Paul, a friend of my father’s, often came to our house and together they spent hours talking on computers. Hearing them I laughed like crazy, because I didn’t understand anything at all; at the time terms such as download, Hard Disk, RAM, were not heard every day and the internet was still a little known world, until one day my father decided to buy the first computer. At first I looked at that contraption as if it were a dangerous monster, but over time I had begun to gain confidence; I enjoyed playing video games and using chat programs, until I discovered Ropster, a program that allowed free exchange of music files on the net.

I was looking for songs that reminded me of my childhood until late at night, until I had the desire to listen to the Floating Numbers again. To my surprise, I found the album I already knew and I also discovered the rest of their discography:

a huge repertoire that I liked on first listen. I had been

more and more delighted, so much so that I had invented a kind of game:

I wanted to find one of their songs that I didn’t like. I had lost the challenge, each song was a perfect jewel with magical and refined sounds.

I had also downloaded the numerous texts and, with the help of a dictionary, I had translated some of them. I was mirrored in those verses and, as if by magic, my past, my pain, turned into poetry; in each song was accomplished a miracle. I had created a

personal archive, but after a short time I was no longer satisfied

of files: I had bought the original CDs and, on my 31st day birthday, when I moved in with my cousin, I brought them all with me. Since then I have jealously kept them.

Did not you know? Yuri asked me, breaking my chain of memories. Our boss is a great fan of them. He says that this month, since they will play here in Moscow, he absolutely wants them on the cover.

Steven Clarke kept staring at me from that table.

Great, I replied, without taking my eyes off the poster. «I hope

just to live up to his expectations. "

I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I looked at him: it was my cousin.

Thanks for the photos, I have to go back to my office now, I said, hurrying out.

«At the next coffee then! I hope soon!" he yelled as I was already

in the corridor.

1

Guys, in five minutes on stage! Ross, the tour manager, yelled from the backstage corridor.

Thomas set the cue down on the pool table and turned to Gary.

But where the hell did Steven go?

I’m going to call him.

Jake stopped him. No, Gary. Leave him alone, he’ll still be in his dressing room doing the vocalizations.

Mickey took a fleeting glance at the clock. Here we go, guys.

In the distance the crowd could be heard cheering. The direction was sending in

the commercial of a famous smartphone brand is broadcast.

Footsteps came from the corridor and, a moment later, a very elegant Steven appeared at the door. Jake eyed him carefully and nodded in approval.

Nice jacket.

You like it? Today my favorite color is pink. He turned around

on himself and struck a pose.

Jake noticed that he was holding a small bottle, through the glass a thick yellow liquid could be seen. What the hell is that concoction?

Steven smiled. He is a herbal tea for the voice, would you like some?

No, thanks, Jake replied with a disgusted expression.

Try it, he’s a bomb, Steven insisted.

Oh, Steven, you’ve finally arrived! You are ready? Mickey asked.

Come on guys, let’s hurry, Gary urged them.

They gathered in a circle and huddled together. It was the embrace of ritual before each concert.

They took a breath and screamed in unison: "One ... two .... three

Shit! Shit! Shit!"

The Floating Numbers gave the audience moments of pure energy, the songs of the new album exploded, accompanied by a scenography with attention to the smallest details: from the sides of the stage sinuous metallic protuberances that knotted down to the ground. In the center stood a wide golden staircase, with steps reflected on the mirrored floor.

The climax of the concert was when Steven urged the audience to clap their hands and long blasts shot from the back of the stage, lighting up the entire scene.

Soon after, it got dark in the arena. Only a blue spotlight illuminated Jake, intent on looking for something. The beam of light followed him, as he crossed the stage over and over again, until from a corner he pulled out his historic leopard-print guitar. A second spotlight flooded Thomas with light, and he began to play a slow, hypnotic melody. The public was immediately kidnapped and let themselves be carried away by those notes, like a horde of castaways at the mercy of a storm of sounds.

At the end of the concert the members of the group gathered on stage, bowed to the audience and hugged each other, complimenting each other.

Steven waved to the audience, smiled big and, after a last bow to the audience, walked out of the stage, followed by the other members of the group.

That evening too he had given his all and all he wanted was to take off his stage clothes, take a shower and throw himself on a bed to sleep. Unfortunately it would not have happened. The evening was not over and they had to get ready quickly. The Floating Numbers were expected for the gala dinner at Elizar, one of the most luxurious hotels in Kiev.

Jake sat silently next to Steven; limousine trips bored him. He looked absently out the window.

The city of Kiev paraded before his eyes in all its beauty and he couldn’t even get off. There was never time and he was tired of seeing cities from inside a car; in the end he didn’t care anymore: he enjoyed the coolness of the air conditioning while sipping some orange juice.

Steven was slumped on the long white leather seat and occasionally glanced at the screen that was airing fashion shows.

Thomas was intent on navigating with his smartphone and Gary, who sat next to him, occasionally peeked out on the display. Suddenly Thomas burst out laughing and Jake glared at him:

If you don’t stop hiding your guitar from me during concerts, I swear I’ll make all your clothes disappear next time.

Thomas gave him a fleeting glance and went back to staring at his smartphone, stifling a laugh.

I can’t imagine Thomas in his underwear on stage, Mickey interjected.

It doesn’t have to be a pretty sight, Steven said, frowning.

Poor fans! Gary exclaimed.

They’d find out he has a hairy bottom!

And they all burst into thunderous laughter. They were very tired, but the desire to joke was never lacking.

They arrived at the hotel, where reporters and press officers immediately took dozens of photographs while some fans asked for autographs.

Then the manager came and escorted them to the VIP lounge. By now Steven was used to that ritual and, since he would have some free time tomorrow, he was resigned to continuing the evening.

The huge room had been set up for the occasion. Magnificent flower arrangements were arranged on a row of tables, a sign that this was the place dedicated to the group. The room was all painted white, the armchairs, and the tablecloths were vermilion red. On each table there were candles lit inside a small lampshade made of glass, which gave the room a very chic atmosphere.

Gradually the room became crowded with guests and the waiters began to pass between the tables holding large trays. The refreshments consisted of haute cuisine dishes: varenyky, stuffed ravioli seasoned with melted butter, borsht, the famous beetroot soup enriched with sour cream and lard, the famous shuba, salted herring salad, mayonnaise and beetroot , and to finish off with a flourish, churchkheli, sausages stuffed with dried fruit, seasoned with pomegranate-flavored jelly.

Steven continued to gaze indifferently at the serving plates view. He hadn’t touched any food. Jake, who had been watching him for a while, asked him: Don’t you eat anything?

He made a face in disgust. I don’t feel like eating this stuff, I was in the mood for hot dogs and fries tonight.

Jake burst out laughing. "We’re in Kiev, Steven, not New York.

However, I also believe that I will fast. " He pointed disgusted to the trays filled with cakes and sweets.

I’m sorry for you, man. Being lactose intolerant is a big problem. Can’t you even eat that salad over there?

Jake shrugged. «I prefer to avoid, I certainly don’t want to pass the evening in the bathroom. "

I’ll talk to Ross, tell him to check with the cook if this food is right for you, Steven said, standing up.

Jake held him back. "Forget it, Steven. It is not the first time that

he forgets to do it, and I’m sick of reminding him. "

Thomas had overheard the conversation and leaned over to Jake.

Don’t worry guys, I’ve already booked the restaurant where we’re going to eat tomorrow, we’ll make up for it.

At the end of the meal, berska, the typical Ukrainian liqueur, was served.

and all the guests drank at will. The gala dinner ended at two in the morning and Steven returned exhausted to the suite.

2

The next day, Jake woke up with a terrible migraine, he had slept badly. At the gala dinner he had let himself be carried away by the guests, drinking a few more glasses. Gary had been watching him all the time and with every sip he had given him a dirty look. Jake knew well that he worried about his health: in the past he had seen him drown in alcohol excesses and feared that he might fall back into it.

That evening he had stared at him defiantly, as if he wanted to make him understand that he was perfectly capable of controlling himself.

There was a knock on the door and he got up to go and open it, but a moment later he realized he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He found himself in front of Miss Ginger, the tour manager’s assistant, who, as soon as she saw him shirtless, she rolled her eyes and blushed.

Hi, I wanted to inform you that at one o’clock we will all be in the hall, the limousines will take us directly to the airport.

Jake rubbed his eyes, he was still too sleepy to think.

What’s the next destination?

We will go to Moscow, Russia.

Oh yeah. She nodded absently.

The plane will leave at three, she specified.

But what time is it?

You have half an hour, Ginger said, peering at her tiny wristwatch.

Jake burst out laughing: he would never be able to prepare himself so fast.

I don’t promise anything, he said, pulling up the elastic of the boxers. He leaned against the door and folded his arms, pointing out the muscular biceps.

Ginger’s cheeks flared again.

Try to do the possible or they will get angry.

They can’t leave without me. They’ll wait, he said angrily.

Ginger gave him a smile and he followed her with her gaze as she walked away. Her stiletto heels slendered her slender figure wrapped in a little black dress. She had a crush on him, and all the staff knew. It had all started four years ago, in a hotel in Phoenix, when they took the elevator together and there was a power failure. Ginger had a panic attack, and then Jake sat on the floor next to her; then, while he was trying to calm her down, he hugged her. For a moment their faces were so close that she kissed him. They had been four long hours waiting for help.

Since then Ginger had grown to love Jake in silence. She met him when she had to report the tour manager’s plans, but she blushed and ran away immediately.

Jake locked the door, took off his shorts, threw them on the bed and headed naked to the bathroom. Before stepping into the shower, he admired his reflection in the mirror, smugly caressing his muscular chest. Fifty-one years. He certainly wore them well.

He turned on the tap and felt the hot water run over him. He was waiting for a new plane trip and was beginning to get nervous. He hoped that he would arrive in Moscow as soon as possible.

3

They landed in Moscow which was almost dinner time.

The next day’s program included half a day of rest:

finally they would have time to visit the city, go to the restaurant, or relax in the hotel.

Steven had just entered the suite, dragging the trolley towards a corner when his cell phone began to ring. It was Ross Stone.

I wanted to warn you that tomorrow afternoon you are invited to an interview with Radmuz, a local radio station. You will eat something and then at two o’clock you’ll be in the studio. The radio will only interview you, Jake and Gary.

Ah ... I was hoping that there were no plans for tomorrow and that I would be able to relax until the soundcheck! Steven protested.

Be patient, the commitment was unfortunately already planned with those of the radio, it is not possible to cancel it.

Steven was silent, reluctant.

«Fans are waiting to hear your interview. Come on, make them happy. "

Okay, Ross, I got it. He chuckled. "You always know how

catch me when I don’t want to do something. Steven cared a lot about his fans, but over time indulging himself offstage became more and more difficult.

So you understand? Please, I want you ready for tomorrow at two.

Okay Ross, I give up. He cut the connection and sighed resigned. Only three months had passed since the tour began and the commitments went far beyond the concerts. Interviews, photo shoots, press conferences; finding moments of relaxation was increasingly difficult.

He opened the suitcase and calmly began to select what to wear for dinner.

He had already put on his dark glasses when Gary knocked on the door. Steven, I’m ready, we’ll be waiting for you downstairs, at the restaurant.

4

Since arriving in Moscow, Jake had been in a strange agitation. It had been a very smooth flight but he always felt the need for Steven’s company alongside him. For some hidden reason it had become a habit and, since he suited both of them, they continued to travel in close seats; it was like a ritual.

The hours that day were really tight, there was just enough time to eat. In the city they could ride in limousines, everything was already perfectly organized, they didn’t have to worry about anything. That day, Ross had made a reservation in a quaint ethnic restaurant not far from the center and by noon on the dot they were all at the table.

Steven was holding up a bowl with some strange dark salad in it.

Taste it, it’s very good.

Jake made a face. I eat that stuff over there? Not a chance."

«I tasted that… what’s the name of that dish with potatoes?

He didn’t convince me, "Thomas said.

His name is medovic, it’s written here. Gary pointed to a spot on the menu.

I’m fine for today, I’m not hungry anymore. Jake took the napkin off his legs and slammed it on the table. ... and then I honestly didn’t like this stuff at all.

Of all the diners, Steven was the only one who was eating.

I’m not used to this kind of cuisine, but it’s not bad, he murmured with his mouth full.

I honestly prefer Irish cuisine, Gary said nostalgically. As he got older it became harder and harder to stay away from him Ireland than him.

Jake became thoughtful. Steven, in the breaks between one concert and the next, always eats in a nutshell, it’s normal. On the stage he walks for miles.

I’m a frontman. I have to recover my energy, he muttered, chewing non-stop.

The waiter served them coffee; Steven drank his almost abruptly and turned pale. Sorry guys, I’ll be right back, he said, jumping up.

Jake followed him with his eyes as he walked away to the toilet.

But have you seen how much he ate? Gary asked softly.

Jake sipped his coffee, made a face and put down his cup, horrified. I don’t know how he did it. I have never eaten such poor food.

Not even me, is it possible that in Russia you eat so badly? Thomas said, annoyed.

«In my opinion Russian food is very good, you only eat badly

here!" Mickey considered.

Several minutes passed. Steven still wasn’t back from the bathroom.

Thomas and Gary looked at each other, there was silence at the table.

Jake got up quickly. I’m going to see what happens. As soon as he approached the closed bathroom door he felt retching. Steven, holy God, are you sick? Open the door!

After a few moments, he finally answered him. I’m really sick if you want to know!

Jake heard the toilet flush and then gagging again. I’m going to call someone! he said, trying to be heard through the glass.

He was about to leave when he heard the door open. Steven did two steps towards him, pale as a rag, and he collapsed. He held him up in time, placing him carefully on the floor. «Someone can call a doctor please? " he screamed.

Mickey and Thomas came running, Gary turned to a waitress: You can call an ambulance please? It’s urgent!

The woman rushed to the phone. Steven was still lying on the

floor but he had regained consciousness.

Steven ... you gave us a good scare, how do you feel?

Gary asked worriedly.

Weak ... he answered in a faint voice.

Jake was bending over him and feeling his pulse. You have been very ill, you also lost consciousness a little while ago.

I fainted? I do not remember. Anyway, don’t call ambulances, please, I’ll recover right away, tonight we have the concert! To help him breathe, Thomas undid the collar of his shirt.

Other than concert, now you have to think about recovering.

Steven shook his head and started to get up but he realized he was devoid of strength. But it will be the concert that will make me feel better!

Jake walked away and took Gary aside. Do you have any idea of the mess that happens if they hospitalize him? If he misses the concert, Steven will go out of his head.

But it’s for his health, we have a duty to help him! Gary said softly.

Thomas and Mickey had made Steven sit in a chair and were standing next to him. Distant ambulance sirens could be heard in arrival.

But I’m fine! Steven yelled impatiently.

The ambulance arrived and turned off the sirens.

«Here, I knew it! Jake, you called the ambulance, right? " Steven continued, infuriated.

Jake ignored him.

Steven managed to get to his feet and, holding on to Thomas, yelled, If they hospitalize me and skip the concert we’re in shit! The medical staff hurried into the restaurant. When Jake explained to them what had happened, they tried to accompany Steven on foot to the ambulance, but he was still very weak and decided to carry him in a litter. He didn’t make a fuss with the doctors. When he arrived

in the hospital, he was promptly transferred to a room.

That same day, a statement was released in the official press:

The Floating Numbers announce that unfortunately the concert of 08/19/2017 was canceled due to the singer’s illness. The concert date will be rescheduled later, the band confirms the show on 23/08/2017 in Warsaw.

5

I called you three times, you didn’t answer me, barked Danae from the other head of the line. Did you remember to buy pistachio ice cream?

I don’t forget your ice cream, damn it. Just give me time to go to the supermarket, okay?

Danae didn’t take my irritation. "Uncle Andrien is coming to tonight dinner with