Bongo

By Carmen R. Dona

When you gamble with destiny, you either win or lose. Do you know of another option?

My world turned into chaos. My body begged me to stop, but my thirst for life and the challenge before me were stronger than reason. The truth is, even in my worst nightmares, I couldn't describe the price I was forced to pay.

I don't like this dramatic tone; it's not me. Let me share my trademark half-smile with you and tell you about the fun and sensual moments I've experienced.

"My name is Mario, and this is my adventure."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carmen R.Dona
• Release date: Nov 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9781667465470

Book preview

Prologue

When an author you admire asks you if you'd like to write the foreword for her latest novel, the reaction can only be... is she really asking me? Is she mistaking me for someone else? Well, no, she's not mistaken. So, I feel a bit overwhelmed because I'm not sure if I'll be up to the task. It's my first time writing a foreword, and I hope to convey what I intend to say.

I discovered Carmen with her first novel, and I knew she had already won me over as a reader. Her writing style immediately captivated me in such a way that as I read page after page, it made me feel like I was living the story myself.

Right after finishing it, I started with the next one. The impact of her first story left me with the need to continue with the second, which affected me greatly. Nevertheless, even though my heart was shaken by the emotions in each of them, I proceeded to the third because her writing is addictive, and I needed to know more. All I can say is that in each of them, the reader has the privilege of living and feeling what the author intends to convey on paper. And I know for a fact that she succeeds.

In "Bongo: The Meaning of Life," the author once again takes me on an emotional rollercoaster. I might sound repetitive, but honestly, a novel that doesn't make you feel anything is not a true novel in my book. The pleasure of reading lies in the fact that the author, with just a few words, manages to make you experience and live the story they want to convey. And in this case, Carmen achieves that. So, I assure you that Mario's story will tug at your heartstrings throughout the entire reading.

I'll give you some glimpses to tempt you into picking up the book and not letting it go. I'm sure it will catch your attention.

"Bongo: The Meaning of Life" narrates the origins of Mario. The story of his parents, two people from different cultures who have a tough time loving each other. In a tragic yet romantic setting, they experience a love that transcends time.

To know him, you need to know his parents. The result is a man with strong values and a huge heart who has to navigate tragedy, love, frustration, and happiness to find himself and discover what he truly wants in his life.

Mario's love life is not a walk in the park, but to get to where he ends up, destiny places obstacles in his path that he must overcome to find happiness. His friend David and his brother Charly will be two fundamental pillars in his journey. Two very important characters who contribute significantly to his life.

Marzie, the girl who is imprinted on his soul, will make him realize that not everything is black and white and that a misunderstanding can destroy a life of happiness.

But love and tragedy are not the only themes; friendship and family play an important role in their lives.

So, from this point on, dear reader, I invite you to immerse yourself in this emotional story that will take you on a journey between Andalusia and Dubai, where the experience narrated is very human, as real as life itself, full of feelings and emotions. I'm sure it will captivate you.

Susy Hope

Chapter 1

Mario

«Never give up,

because you never know if the next attempt

will be the one that Works.»

Mary Kay Ash

I need to live. Life has taught me that time is fleeting, one day you're fine, and the next you might not be. This is my moment, and I'm going to make the most of it.

I can't help but wonder if this is a mistake. It's not, right? I make a right turn and venture into the open field, my heart racing. I park the car and turn off the engine with trembling hands. God! Everything will be fine! I'm supposed to be doing this to enjoy myself, and if I don't relax these nerves, I'm going to have a heart attack! I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Nothing, it's not working. Damn it! This uncertainty is going to drive me crazy. Unexpectedly, and leaving me even more terrified than before, complete darkness envelops me as the interior lights go out when I turn off the ignition.

I'm okay! Everything will be fine! I'll enjoy it, and I'll leave here with the best experience of my life. According to what I've been told, I have to wait until I see the signal. Just in case, I check my phone's location, which I downloaded to make sure I'm in the right place. When I confirm that the image indicates I'm properly situated, I start fiddling with the radio button, looking for something to calm these damn nerves and distract me from the madness I'm about to undertake. Because, yes, what I'm doing is absolutely insane, all to forget my past.

I stop when a song starts playing that gets under my skin. The music is beautiful, catchy, I like it. I leave it on, paying attention to the lyrics. The voice sounds like it's Melendi's; I'm not very up-to-date on today's singers, but I'd swear my crazy friend David also played another one of his songs that time I rode in his car.

How beautiful the lyrics are... The city where I was born and to which I haven't returned. I'm sure that if I did, I'd be a stranger. This kid seems to have written the song for me. Will I ever go back? Will I be able to look for it? Has she forgotten me?

Ugh! I shake my head; this song says too much about me. Angrily, I turn off the radio. I need to silence what happened. Too many memories. Memories of the only woman I ever loved rush into my mind. The ones I'd rather erase or leave locked away because they tore me apart inside and turned me into what I am today.

A flash blinds me, bringing those images and that beautiful face back to the depths of my memory, where they should have never left. I shake my hands and rub them against my pants in search of the warmth they lost. There's no turning back now; they're there, and the uncertainty of going through this terrifies me even more. It's been a while since I enjoyed a woman, one that lingers in my thoughts, wanting to hold onto her, see her again, touch her, damn it! My life sucks. The thrill of conquest doesn't attract me anymore, in fact, no woman does. I had a glimmer of hope when I met Lola, which vanished the moment I tried to get her into bed.

I refocus on what brought me here. I anxiously await the signal: two long flashes followed by three short ones. I pat my thighs and convince myself that this is what I want.

Come on! I tell myself to muster the courage that has vanished since I started listening to that damn song.

I get out of the car, close the door quietly, and lock it. I scan the surroundings to confirm the absence of any onlookers. I hide the keys under the wheel just in case they fell or something. I pat my pockets and realize I'm not carrying anything; I've left my identification and anything that could reveal my identity, as advised in the forums, in case someone shows up and I have to make a quick exit or something. I admit I was terrified when I read all those tips. But the truth is, being my first time, I wouldn't want to mess up, so I've learned the lesson well. What attracted me the most to this practice is that they said when you fully immerse yourself in this world, you forget about everything else. Something I need. But they also warn you that you're in an unsafe place and can do crazy things when you let desire take over.

I advance toward the car in question, checking that the interior light is on and the window is half open. Good, I can look and touch. I like it. I position myself near the back door and gaze at the couple who shamelessly touch and kiss each other. This is what I needed to forget what has been haunting me for days. I scrutinize the interior for a bit of excitement which, to my surprise, I find immediately. God! She has her shirt open, revealing large breasts that he has begun to eagerly lick when he notices my presence, making it clear that he enjoys being watched. The girl is very beautiful; she wears her blonde hair in a high ponytail, her fair skin shines with excitement knowing that hungry and unknown eyes are watching her. I lick my lips as I distinguish her pink nipples, just the way I like them, begging to be sucked. I observe the guy who can't stop touching and savoring her. His pants are down to his knees, and she touches his crotch with an open hand, seeking to give him pleasure. With that scene before my eyes, I can't help but moan with excitement. The girl looks up, and she must like what she sees because she bites her lip, enticing me and stimulating my member, which throbs to be freed from its confinement.

I undo the buttons of my pants and take it out; it's as hard as can be, and I have to pull down my boxers quite a bit so it doesn't bother me, all while keeping an eye on such a creature who enjoys her lover's caresses. She is beautiful and sensual; I love how she arches and moans. I start touching myself while she, curious, lowers her gaze, delighting in what I have in my hands, all while continuing to do the same to the guy next to her, moving her hand up and down at the same pace as mine, synchronizing our movements. Her moans excite me, causing me to approach and put my hand through the window. I touch her breast. So soft! I pinch a nipple between my fingers. She moans at the contact and opens her legs, inviting me to invade her pleasure center. I bend down a little more and, without stopping touching myself, slide my fingers between her wet lips.

Damn!

I feel a surge in my groin, making me even more excited. As I'm about to insert a finger inside her, she leans back and whispers something in her guy's ear. He nods, and then she opens the door. Yes! That indicates that I can join the party. The girl turns around in the back seat, exposing her intimate parts to me. I kneel on the ground, not caring that we're in the middle of a field, and place my lips on her swollen clitoris, which I nibble on immediately; a passionate scream escapes from the depths of her throat. This girl is pure fire. Her partner grunts wildly upon hearing it, indicating he's very aroused, at a level I would certainly like to reach. He raises himself just enough to put his member in her mouth, and she accepts it more than willingly, succumbing to the ecstasy we've immersed ourselves in.

The interior reeks of sex, and I enjoy the sight of lust as that woman devours that man's penis, fondling her breasts while shamelessly watching me. With my hand, I continue to masturbate until I succumb and release on the floor. I induce her orgasm by forcefully inserting three fingers. I feel her squirming; she's very close. A few more movements, and I'll take her to the climax. Her moans are pure music, and as a result, he releases himself in her mouth, and she eagerly swallows every drop. My penis throbs again as I watch her licking her lips. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed such a good sex session. Since that day in the warehouse with Caroba.

I stand up, adjusting my clothes while they do the same. I observe her picking up her panties from the floor and putting them on without stopping her seductive gaze, still aroused, with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair.

No words. No greetings. No introductions. She gets out of the car, readjusting her clothes, passes by me without saying a word, glances at me flirtatiously, and licks her lips provocatively. She gets into the front of the car as he does the same on the other side. I watch them exchange a knowing look, and then they passionately kiss, with the need to touch each other and seal something that, with certainty, they've agreed upon. Confirming their relationship. I'm sure they'll now go in private to enjoy their sexuality.

As if synchronized, both turn towards where I am and, with a nod of their heads, bid farewell. I hear the engine revving, stirring something inside me, the car starts, leaving me there as they merge onto the road and disappear into the darkness. It's all over, and it was magnificent. No attachments. No pressures. No love. Just great sex. But why do I have this uneasiness inside me? Why do I feel like I've lost something?

I approach the car with a sensation I can't quite pinpoint. I can't help but look around in case someone is watching. What the hell is going on with me? What's this tightening in my chest? Embarrassment? Jealousy? I bend down to pick up the keys from where I hid them and quickly unlock the car, settling into it while I dismiss these absurd thoughts that have invaded my mind.

It's nerves. It must be due to the situation of being here in the middle of nowhere, alone. This uncertainty about not knowing what would happen. But it's over. Everything went well, and I'm safe. They enjoyed, and so did I. I recall the scene I just experienced, or rather, enjoyed, and smile, reminiscing about the pleasurable moment I've just had.

I hit the steering wheel.

What nonsense are you thinking today, Mario!

I'm frustrated, that's what I am. How I would have enjoyed a second round. That blonde has left me wanting more. Next time, I'll plan it better. This first time was just to try it out. Yes, I'll repeat, and it will be perfect. I need to join Dogging websites to find better and busier places.

I need more!

I roll down the window, needing some fresh air to regain composure when a rustling of branches to my left catches my attention. I squint, searching for its source.

Hello?! Is anyone there?

Nothing.

Silence.

Darkness.

I shake my head.

Mario, don't be silly. It's probably just some animal startled by the noise you just made, I tell myself in a futile attempt to calm my paranoid mind.

I need to put aside the hallucinations if I want to do this again. Because I do want to, right? Flashes of what happened invade my mind. It was exciting. I was aroused before witnessing them in action. I enjoyed it like never before. I loved being with that couple who surrendered without questions, knowing we'll never see each other again. No commitments. They will continue with their lives, and I... with mine. However, being so far from civilization has freaked me out a bit. Let's not kid ourselves. As far as I understand, it's always like this in remote places. Far from prying eyes.

I take a deep breath, looking into nothingness, in a futile attempt to spot some shadows. I've had the feeling for some time now that someone is watching me.

Nonsense!

I don't know what's wrong with me. I think adrenaline is messing with my brain. Yes, that must be it. I'm talking to myself, for God's sake! I place my hand on the ignition, and just as I'm about to turn the key to leave, convincing myself it was a squirrel, a new movement catches my attention. I squint my eyes and see something shining in the darkness. Damn! It looks like the glow of a cigarette butt on the ground. Without further delay, I start the car with one thought in my mind. Damn! My instinct was right. Someone was watching there and left when they thought they might be discovered. However, I believe they intentionally left the cigarette butt behind. They left evidence to let me know they were spying on me, but who?

Chapter 2

«Your body has the great miraculous ability to heal itself».

Hiromi Shinya

My desire to see you is greater than the distance that separates us. He had read that sentence somewhere and thought of his friend. It prompted him to insist again, finally convincing his friend to accept the visit. He drives restlessly, unsure of what he will find. He doesn't understand why his friend has refused to receive him before, or the reason for all the mystery. Without a doubt, it must be something really serious.

He arrives at the specified destination. He, with his striking gentlemanly demeanor that sets him apart, gets out of the car and goes straight to his friend's house. He's eager to see him. It's been almost a year since they last met, since that accident that left so many unanswered questions. Since that day, he has been wondering what could have happened to lead to such an outcome. He rings the intercom, and the door immediately opens without asking who it is, which worries him. They must have been expecting him, but it still seems strange. He looks at the window, and the curtain has just closed. There's no doubt they knew it was him. He heads towards the stairs and rings the doorbell. He hesitates for a moment, rubbing his feet on the doormat, while he waits impatiently for someone to answer. He looks up and realizes the door is slightly ajar. He pushes it gently, his hands trembling with nerves. It's silly to be so anxious, but he can't help it. He doesn't know what he'll find. He has had to go through a lot to get to him.

He closes the door behind him and heads towards the light indicating the way. He pays attention to the details around him. Picture frames adorn the cream-colored walls. In one, a beautiful and very smiling woman holds a baby in her hands, in an idyllic setting; a beach with the setting sun in the background. He curiously examines the next photo. A young boy, about four years old, walks with a man of unparalleled physique and the same woman as before, all very happy and smiling, so much so that he smiles too. He examines each and every one of the images that make up this beautiful and endearing wall and always finds something in common: that feeling of happiness that seems to permeate the glass, filling that small corner with tenderness and love. One of them catches his attention. Charly, the boss, is placed in the center of the photo, with a couple and his friend on one side, somewhat apart from the rest, as if he didn't want to be part of it. It was taken here, in Seville, at the Giralda to be more precise. Everyone is smiling except him. He has a sad and melancholic expression, the same one he has known since he entered his bar years ago.

He walks towards what he assumes is the living room where he expects to find him. Upon passing through the arch that forms the door, he is met with a rather cozy place. Two large sofas in a light cream color, placed around a plush rug of the same shade, dominate the room, emphasizing the colors of the objects that make up the decoration: cushions, lamps, various paintings, and even the curtains are in perfect harmony. He is left speechless before this marvelous living room, not even noticing the person who looks at him in disbelief. He just can't stop looking; everything is impressive. However, what catches his attention the most is the fireplace that warms the room and the wooden ceiling beams that give it a rustic air.

A hoarse voice, one he recognizes immediately, interrupts his particular scrutiny of the place, pulling him out of his passion for decoration. He turns to see his friend and greet him, but he can't because his friend starts talking almost immediately. His appearance leaves him speechless. Before him, he doesn't see his friend, the one he met some time ago, but someone who resembles him. He looks haggard and deteriorated. He smiles, trying not to let his friend notice the discomfort that his appearance has caused him.

***

Hello! My name is Mario Da Costa Fernández, and I was born on June thirteenth at thirteen minutes past six. My mother told me that this coincidence would mark my life forever and asserted that it must mean something good, and... well, look where I am now, I blurt out in one go, seeing him standing there, looking at me with sadness, not giving him a chance to reply. Mostly because if I don't do it this way, I'll never get started. Opening up to other people is not my thing. She was always very mystical about such things. She believed in both white and black magic. She said that good things could come from the good and the bad. The truth is I've never been a believer in those things, but it seemed to work for her with her love spells and such.

David looks at me in disbelief from the door. I'm not sure if he's in that state because of the decoration or because of what I just spilled. Judging by his distraught expression, I'd say it's the latter. The last time we saw each other was in my bar after his motorcycle accident. I remember when Lola, who was head over heels for him, came over almost in tears, suffering so much for him. I wonder what happened to her?

I hear my brother rummaging around in his office. He was on the phone and had to step out. It's probably a strategy to leave us alone after the argument I had with him about what he did that day at the hospital. Charly acted like a jerk, kicking him out of there. I understand the reasons that led him not to want to tell him anything about my illness, and I also understand why my dear friend is like this: motionless. I would even dare to say he's scared, which surprises me a lot. David is a whirlwind, and since I've known him, there's been nothing and no one that intimidates him. I correct myself mentally; the blonde. Caroba really messed him up. It's not her fault, but what happened caused him to stop being himself for a while after meeting her, and things didn't work out. It's curious how something so trivial can change your life so much. A moment of eye contact, and you're lost. Especially when it all started with a kind of bet with himself that he undoubtedly lost.

I watch him with affection. He remains motionless at my words. I try to remember and take stock of everything David and I have experienced together. The thing is, we had never really gotten close, at least not from my side. He did tell me about his life the day we met. God! I remember vividly the day he came to the bar, drunk as a skunk, and shouting obscenities. I had never seen such a lost look before. I felt so sorry for him that I couldn't serve him what he ordered and made him drink a strong coffee instead. I suppose that, with that gesture, I won his sympathy, which led him to reveal his dirty laundry. He told me that his girlfriend had left him after he had poured his heart out to her. He vented, recounting in detail what he had explained to his partner, and although he understood her reaction, he didn't agree with her leaving him for carrying such a heavy backpack. Women! Who can understand them? They want us to open up, and when we do... Bam! After that, he became a regular customer. We would meet at the bar, have a few drinks, and chat for a while. He would tell me about his day-to-day life, and I would just listen. If there was any woman who came on to him, I'd lend her the keys to go to the storage room to let off steam, and not much more. I taught him how to build a protective armor for his battered heart. I guess things changed the moment we shared a bed with Caroba. Now I realize that, in this friendship, he's given his all, and I've given nothing. It's clear that I've underestimated him, and that's why I'll tell him my story.

Yes. My life is a total mess. I need to find someone who is a match for my bone marrow. Well, I don't want to lie to you. It's not exactly like that, but for now, I want to hold on to that thought, even if it's a last-ditch effort, to keep me going.

Man, have you lost your voice? Say something, mate. Or at least come closer so I can see the lovesick expression on your face, I say with a laugh to tease him.

Finally, he moves and approaches with shyness. Unusual for David, who has always been a confident man. Not even in his worst moments, which there have been many of, have I seen him behave like this.

What do you want me to say? I've been trying to meet up with you for months for a chat, and without even offering me a beer, you drop all that on me all of a sudden and without anesthesia, he replies with that half-smile that would get the panties of all the girls, even the most reserved ones, to drop.

Come on, have a seat, I ask, patting the couch next to me. Cabeza, would you mind bringing my friend a beer?

I'm coming! I'm on the phone! my brother shouts from his office, leaving me stunned by part of the conversation I just heard. I'll ask him about it later when he hangs up.

Did you know? I never thought I'd see you in love and about to get married. Do you still remember the motto I taught you? David nods and smiles. With a genuine smile, one of those that tells you a lot about the person in front of you.

Telling me with that gesture that he's better than ever. It's embarrassing for me to notice those details, but it's the darn truth. His hair is messy, that bad boy look that has always caught my attention. In the past, I would have sworn that we'd be like two peas in a pod, inseparable. That we'd hook up with anyone who crossed our path, and now look at him! He's getting married! Damn! He's going to be bound to a woman for life!

Of course. That motto has accompanied me for years. Your advice has helped me a lot in the past, how did it go? he asks thoughtfully without waiting for an answer. I know he remembers perfectly.

If they try to give you their phone number? You lose the paper, and under no circumstances do you call them. If they offer to drive you home? You don't accept. If they put on a lovesick look after sex? You clarify that this is just about sex. If they try to find you through friends? You run away.

As soon as I finish emphasizing each point with gestures and hand movements, just like we used to do in the past, we both burst into laughter like the partying twins we've been. But the damn cough returns and steals the peace I had.

Damn it! This damn disease never gives me a break. I had to move heaven and earth to get him to visit me. My brother didn't want to hear about it, but he finally agreed. Poor David had to disinfect himself and get tested to make sure he's healthy. It's curious; he did it without a word or question. See how far he's gone to see me. Today, he hasn't smoked a single cigarette, since my doctor had forbidden it.

All right! I say, trying to sound upbeat to reassure him. He's silent again, not taking his eyes off me. What? Is my appearance freaking you out?

He nods his head, opens his mouth, and closes it. He seems to be thinking about what to say. What a jerk!

I... Damn it, Mario! You look haggard and too thin. I didn't expect to see you in this condition, to be honest, he confesses hesitantly and sadly.

I click my tongue, feeling his sorrow penetrate my soul. I can't stand anyone feeling sorry for me. If I'm like this, it's my own fault. For believing I was immortal or who knows what. The truth is, I regret every day not keeping up with my doctor's appointments, skipping more than one, and, above all, the excesses. Sex. Alcohol. Tobacco. A bad environment and a bad life.

Forgive me, I know you don't like me looking at you... well, like I am right now, but don't think for a moment that you're going to get rid of me. I won't leave here without you telling me what's going on. I consider myself your friend, and I want to support you in whatever way I can. Please don't get angry. Let me come to terms with your condition. The last time I saw you, you were thinner, and then the bathroom incident happened... and...

I remember that day clearly. I had woken up with a hangover. I had a rendezvous with a couple. After having relations with David and Caroba, I wanted more. I remember that, before leaving, I took something. I think I may have overdone it, as I don't remember what I did in that hellish house very well. It took me to the hospital again. Flashes of the blonde and her husband, who was insatiable, come to mind. He went too far. Breasts. Moans. And then nothing. I made it home; thankfully, I always take a taxi to these places. I know myself too well not to. When I got to the bar, I was feeling terrible; I should have stayed in bed. Now I'm aware of it. Odd, isn't it? A bit late, isn't it? I went to the bathroom, and that's where he found me. He had gone there with the intention of talking to me about Marina's accident. Blessed girl... she showed up at the best moment. A crazy idea crosses my mind.

And what if I tell you I have AIDS? What would you do? Would you support me?

Chapter 3

Doubts

Many years ago...

Sunyi! I hear Aroa shout, quite agitated, entering my dressing room as if she were being chased by a ghost. Your suitor is here! He's come again!

I finish applying makeup, trying to maintain the composure my dear colleague just stole from me, observing her behind me in the mirror's reflection as she bounces around. I place the brush next to the eyeshadow and slowly uncap the lip gloss, making sure my trembling hands aren't too noticeable. I open my mouth in an 'O' shape and delicately glide it over my lips: first the upper lip, then the lower. What could that man want? Has he truly come to see me? I pause halfway on the lower lip, scrutinizing my reflection.

I'm not a stunning woman, but it wouldn't be fair to describe me as mediocre either. I work diligently on my body every day to keep it toned, and most importantly, I take great care of my diet. If I had to choose a favorite feature, it would be my lips. That's why I pamper them, keeping them well-hydrated. Oh, and my hair, chestnut and wavy, adorns my face, accentuating my almond-shaped, chestnut eyes, saved by their incredibly long eyelashes; I thank the heavens for blessing me with them. I'm sure those who have short or sparse lashes will understand immediately. They give us a sense of power!

Sunyi! Did you hear what I just said?! He's back!

I sigh, clench my jaw in a futile attempt to find some sanity within. I'm certain it's just a coincidence. Things like this don't usually happen to me. I'm alone, but I'm not sad. Don't get me wrong; this is exactly how I want to be. Life has been good to me, and I've never suffered for love. I just want to dance, make a living from it. I truly enjoy it, even if, for now, it has to be here instead of in a theater, which is my dream.

Of course, Aroa, I reply with all the calm I can muster, smiling affectionately.

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror.

Maybe this outfit is too provocative. Argh! I still don't feel comfortable in it, I ponder while checking the time on the wall clock. No, I don't have time to change now.

Suddenly, a thought comes to mind that I don't even understand myself. I don't want him to think I'm a stripper because I'm not. I'm a dancer. I'm sure that one day I'll be able to dance in a better place than this, but until my moment arrives, I'm trying to ensure everyone enjoys the show. Especially today, as I've prepared something very special.

Aroa, darling, you can't think that every man who walks through that bar's door is here to court me. Can you imagine? I can picture it vividly, I argue, laughing. I draw an arc with one of my hands, placing the other on her shoulder, and whisper in her ear, imitating a narrator's voice: That man will make his way through the tables and, just like in 'An Officer and a Gentleman,' he'll sweep me into his arms to rescue me from dancing in bars. And as we leave, he'll lower the moon to hand it to me, and we'll live happily ever after. Every woman's dream! I sigh dramatically, unleashing my theatrical side. I look into her eyes to help her focus and stop filling my head with daydreams. Why do you think he's here to see only me and not any of the other girls dancing tonight?

Because... he hasn't paid attention to any of them this week, well, the only one who's shown up, to be honest. Because when he heard Henry introduce the next performance, he left his dark corner, handed money to those men around the stage to move further back, and trying to say something, I open my mouth and then close it, but I don't know what to say he sat in the front row. Don't look at me like that. Do you understand now why I think he's only here to see you?

Speechless. That's how I'm left.

My body starts trembling again. This man has been coming all week. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. I preferred to believe he liked my choreography, despite what Aroa might say. Day after day, she insisted that he came to watch me because he couldn't take his eyes off me. He followed my every move, and when I finished dancing, he left, nothing more. And now she's telling me he's out there, waiting for me in the front row. I shake my head and