A Star in My Life

by Victory Storm

  Just behind him there was one of the posters stuck up by fans of the actors starring in The Supremacy, the movie that was being shot in those days.

  It just took a few seconds for her to match perfectly the image of the actor Marc Hailen with that one of the man being in front of her.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but she was barely able to make sounds .

  “ Well, what now?” he went on, more and more irritated, making Berenice’s brain go haywire. This last one was reviewing all the articles and videos that she had seen about him.

  “You insured your body for ten million dollars,” was the one thing she could say with a feeble voice, being just about to faint.

  “ That’s right. And now, unless you want to spend the rest of your life paying for your mistakes, I would advise you to give me some ice and a coffee. At once.”

  2

  If she had thought to spend all the evening crying for the loss of her car, now she was too upset at the thought of finding herself involved in a trial that would have led her to pay who knows how many millions for that swollen nose.

  “And where should I find some ice?” she snapped more desperate than before.

  “It’s not my business. You only have to find it, quickly,” answered Marc tartly, dabbing at his nose.

  “Maybe we’d better go to hospital.”

  “Are you crazy? You want me to become paparazzi’s laughing-stock? Don’t you have a home to go to ?”

  Berenice shyly nodded pointing at the second floor of the condominium in front of them.

  “Let’s go,” he pushed her badly towards the main entrance.

  As Berenice opened the door of her flat, making her guest come in, she felt overcome by embarrassment: the flat was in a sorry state and everywhere was a mess.

  “Sorry for this mess, but I didn’t expect anyone,” she hastened to say, taking the clothes scattered on the sofa and the socks on the floor, next to the entrance, and throwing them haphazardly into the bathroom.

  “And it shows,” commented acid Marc, setting eyes on the sink full of dirty dishes and the chips crumbs covering both the coffee table and the carpet of the sitting room. “Do you live with anyone?”

  “No, I don’t, I’m alone, but sometimes my brother comes to stay here.”

  “So is this mess all your doing?” said Marc laughing scornfully.

  “Recently I’ve been very busy,” she lied blushing.

  “Well, I hope you can find some ice in all this mess.”

  Berenice refrained from answering to not offend him and rushed to the freezer to take some ice cubes that then she wrapped up in a clean handkerchief.

  Meanwhile, Marc set off for the bathroom in order to clean himself from the coagulated blood.

  “Shit!” he started fretting while looking in the mirror at the small injury just above his left nostril .

  “It’s only a scratch,” minimized Berenice, afraid of the higher and higher price that he could ask her for the damages on his body. Without wasting any more time, she also took some cotton and some hydrogen peroxide.

  “Don’t you wanna clean me with that stuff?”

  “It’s a disinfectant. It needs to clean the injury,” became impatient Berenice, putting badly the ball of cotton wool on his nose.

  “It burns, shit! Are you crazy?” he shouted aching, washing his face again. “You’ve no idea of the sum you’ll have to pay me for damaging my nose.”

  Exasperated and terrified by those millions of insurance on that body that she seemed to damage still further, she looked for a solution. “Wait for me here. My neighbor is a retired nurse. I’ll ask her advice.”

  Without listening to the man’s curses, Berenice rushed to her neighbor’s door.

  A small woman came to open it.

  “Mrs. Tennely, could you please help me? My friend took a bad hit to his nose and I don’t know what to do,” begged the young woman, pointing at the boy standing in the doorway.

  “But there’s A Doctor in Our Midst on tv.”

  “Please.”

  Finally the old woman surrendered in spite of herself. She briskly went towards the boy and fingered his nose roughly .

  “Please gently,” was worrying Berenice, hearing Marc’s moaning. She couldn’t run the risk that the actor would ask her more money because of that old woman.

  “Nothing’s broken. You only have to put a lotion to reduce the swelling and it’ll be as good as new in three days,” considered the former nurse. “Wait for me here. I’ll go and see whether I’ve still a pack of it at home.”

  After what it seemed three endless minutes to Berenice , the lady came back with a half empty tube of ointment.

  “Spread a thin layer of it on his nose and around the bruise and rub the ointment well in,” she ordered her.

  “You want me to do it?” asked the girl.

  “Of course you do! Now I’ve to go and see A Doctor in Our Midst ,” said the woman, getting back in her house.

  The two youths walked unsteadily to Berenice’s flat.

  “Are you able to spread this cream?” he inquired at once with a suspicious look, sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter.

  “Of course I’m,” she answered in a huff, trying to hide her anxiety at the thought of laying hands on the face of one of the most handsome men of the world, according to Tabloid .

  If in the past someone had said to her that one day she would have hosted the musician and actor Marc Hailen, she would have never believed them.

  She tried to persuade herself that Marc Hailen was just an indifferent man, put a lot of ointment on her fingers and, plucking up her courage, spread the cream on his nose with very small and gentle circular movements.

  To her great relief she did not listen to any reproach nor complaint from that crabby and domineering man, so she relaxed too for the first time since she had set foot outside her flat that morning.

  After the terror of being called and laid off by Mr. Footer, the car accident and now even that intruder in her own house, she could not have a moment’s respite.

  Slightly relieved, she ventured to look more carefully that face she was touching with such reverence that she blushed.

  She could not deny it: Marc Hailen was stunning. His nose was straight and perfect—neither too long nor too short. His skin was olive-colored and smooth under Berenice’s fingers.

  His eyes… Well, they had to be altered by contact lenses for sure! In real life such eyes could not exist: green with golden specks that seemed to sparkle in the light.

  She got closer, but there was no sign of colored contact lenses.

  “What are you doing? Surely you’re not gonna kiss me, are you? I don’t even know you,” cried Marc, worried about that closeness.

  “Ki… kiss you? No, no! I was just trying to see whether you had contact lenses,” she justified herself feeling awkward, her cheeks glowed .

  “I’ve no contact lenses,” clarified Marc at once, getting closer in his turn. “But you have.”

  “Yes, I have. I’m short-sighted. Without them I see nothing,” she said chuckling, still embarrassed.

  “Maybe you should change gradation since your car has just crashed into a wall. You’re a very bad driver, as well as a squint-eyed person! I should have known that.”

  Berenice had to bite her tongue to not answer back and to blame him for being the first one and only cause of what had just happened.

  “I’ve finished,” hissed the girl through clenched teeth, then she put the tube of ointment back in its pack.

  “And my coffee?”

  That one too!

  She tried to restrain her irritation, went towards the coffee machine on the counter and started to fiddle nervously with the pods, whereas Marc made for the sofa with a nonchalant air and sat down without ceremony.

  “ Make yourself at home,” she said tartly.

  “Thank you. I want an espresso coffee and it must be hot and without sugar.”

  Berenice
would have made some weak, cold coffee with much sugar, but she got a hold on herself.

  She finally made two coffees and came back to the sitting room where Marc had already taken possession of the tv remote control.

  She handed him his coffee-cup and then sat down too, endeavoring to keep her distance.

  “This coffee is cold and it’s bad too,” muttered Marc after sipping his drink.

  “Sorry,” forced herself to say Berenice, too worried about that ten million dollar insurance.

  “ Do you wish me to call a taxi, so you can come back to your hotel?”

  “Forget it! I won’t come out of here until my nose is no longer swollen.”

  “But it will take days!”

  “And then you’d better arrange a room for me tonight. Don’t even think to make me sleep on this uncomfortable sofa.”

  “What?!” Berenice could not believe her ears. “Sleep here? Are you serious?”

  “Of course I’m”.

  That was the last straw.

  “I’m not gonna do that! You got into my car without permission and…”

  “I was looking for a place where to stay in peace and besides, if you don’t wanna have any gests, you just have to lock your car.”

  “The lock’s broken! Anyway, nobody gives you the right to take a nap in my car. I ran the risk to hit another car and…”

  “It’s obvious. You’re as blind as a bat!”

  “I’ ve good eyesight! I avoided a car that cut across my path and my car ended up with crashing into a wall down in the street because of you.”

  “It’s not my fault if you’re a bad driver.”

  “I’m a very good driver. I’ve never had a road accident.”

  “ Up until today.”

  “Up until an insane man gives me a shock!”

  “ How exaggerated!”

  “I wrecked the only car I had and shortly I’ll lose my job too! And as if that wasn’t enough, I broke the nose of the only man on earth who has a millionaire insurance on his body!”

  “I’m not the only one who has such insurance and if you don’t want any trouble, I advise you to calm down and go and arrange my bedroom.”

  “And now I even have to host you!”

  “Yes, you have to.”

  Exasperated, Berenice jumped to her feet from the sofa, took the coffee-cups and went towards the kitchen, then threw them too impetuously into the sink along with the rest.

  Of all cool actors on earth did I have to run just into the most disagreeable and tyrannical one?

  “Hey, hey, you there!” he called her angry.

  “What do you want?” she snapped with irritation.

  “I had not yet finished to drink the coffee.”

  “You said you didn’t want it!”.

  “No, I didn’t. I said that it was cold and not particularly good, but it was drinkable anyway.”

  “I’ll prepare another one for you,” snarled Berenice, out of patience.

  “ It doesn’t matter. I’ve rather another thing to ask you,” he said, ignoring the girl’s reaction.

  “What else do you want?”

  “To know your name.”

  “My name?” echoed Berenice, suddenly confused.

  “Yes. I realized that I broke my neck in the back seat of your car, you made me almost die, broke my nose, dressed it not too badly, made me sit down the most uncomfortable sofa of the world, made some ordinary coffee, blamed me for your ineptitude and blindness… but I don’t know your name yet.”

  “My name’s Berenice.”

  “Berenice?! What a strange name!”

  “It’s the name my mom gave me!”

  “Berenice… well, it doesn’t suit you at all!”

  “My friends call me Nice.”

  “Even worse!”

  For the umpteenth time during the last hour she had to bite her tongue to not heap abuse on him.

  “I’ve decided. I’ll call you Berry,” pontificated Marc, self-confident.

  “Berry? Like the berry?”

  “Yes, because sometimes your face darkens like a blackberry when you’re really pissed off, and other times you’re red in the face like a raspberry.”

  “Are you saying to me that I’m like a blackberry or a raspberry?”

  “More or less, Berry.”

  “My name’s Berenice.”

  “And I’ll call you Berry. What’s the problem? First of all you should thank me, secondly the name Berry suits you very well.”

  “Because I’m plump like a berry, isn’t it?” Berenice was immediately hurt, stung to the quick.

  “No, it isn’t. Because even if you look pretty, actually you’re sour and acidulous like all wild berries.”

  Pretty… Was that a compliment? Berenice felt herself to blush from top to toe.

  3

  “When my grandmother passed away three years ago, my parents moved to her house in the suburbs, whereas they left me this one where we lived before.”

  “What about your brother?”

  “My brother Roy is still under age and lives with my parents, but every now and then he comes here, so, when he stays the night, I bed him down in the bedroom that once we shared,” explained Berenice, showing a room to him that was furnished with a bed, a wardrobe, a bureau, a long row of pieces of apparatus and some half-broken bikes.

  “Your bro is a guy with a gym-toned body, isn’t he?”

  “No, he isn’t. He needs this small gym just to look impressive to girls whom he gets into bed; as for the bikes, they are all wrecks that he finds around and tries to repair for reselling them to his friends.”

  Marc laughed amused. “What a clever boy! What about you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What is there in your bed room that can impress men?”

  “Nothing!” she grumbled, as red as a beetroot. “Anyway, as I was saying to you, this is my bro’s bedroom and I thought that it could suit you as long as you stay here.”

  “And the bathroom?”

  “There’s only one bathroom, so we’ll have to make the best of it.”

  “Then get me everything I need to wash myself.”

  “You can use my shower gel and my shampoo.”

  “Forget it. I don’t wanna smell of roses and violets.”

  “Actually it’s mulberry and musk. And Roy always uses them. He never complained.

  “ That’s completely out of the question. Now I’ll write a list of what I need and, while you are about it, get me some clothes too.”

  “What?”

  “Of course. I can’t have these clothes on all the time.”

  “You can put on my bro’s clothes.”

  “Forget it!”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “My skin is sensitive. It’s not enough for you to destroy my nose, now you wanna ruin my skin too. I hope you’ve saved quite a bit, because my lawyers will fleece you,” got angry Marc, gazing at her with menacing eyes.

  “Now the shops are closed, so I beg you to accept things as they are at least for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll try and buy something after work,” tried to soothe him Berenice.

  “Ok.”

  Berenice let out a sigh of relief.

  “Well then, what are you making for dinner? I’m very hungry,” changed the subject Marc, according to his needs.

  Berenice wanted to cry. She was a bad cook and a vegetarian too. She laid herself open to criticism once more.

  Finally she opted for a legumes and grain soup with croutons and soya croquettes.

  “Are you vegetarian?” guessed Marc biting into a croquette.

  “Yes, I’m. I hope you don’t have any problems with this.”

  “No problem. My bro is vegan, so I’m accustomed to eating bean curd and soya steaks.”

  Relieved, Berenice served the hot soup and sit back in the chair after noticing the appreciation gesture from Marc for her soup.

  “Is your bro an actor too?” she asked him, astonis
hed at never hearing about his brother. She knew that his father, Chris Hailen, was the famous actor who finally preferred his family to the career in cinema, whereas his aunt and uncle, Emily Keys and Steven Maddle, were two popular movie directors.

  “No, Arthur is a very good external designer, but he prefers being a farmer in the vegetable garden down in the street to designing the vips’ gardens.”

  “If he’s able to support himself…”

  “With his wife he set up a small farm of organic products. Arthur is really smart and his products are very popular.”

  “Do you take after each other?”

  “ Not in the least. He takes after our mom: shy and introverted. Arthur is very good and gets the most out everything he does, but he’s always on a smaller scale. He’s afraid of expanding his business or biting off more than he can chew. However he always wants the best for his family.”

  “He really seems a good fellow.”

  “He is. He’s well-liked by everybody.

  “What about you?”

  “I’m less well-liked, but I’m sure I don’t need to explain why,” he said, being amused at the embarrassed look of Berenice who seemed to have on the tip of her tongue a series of insults and reasons why she considered Marc the most insufferable person she had ever encountered. “When I was sixteen I quarreled with my pa who wanted me far from the showbiz, so I moved in with my uncle and aunt.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “I love my mom, but in front of my pa she never takes my side, so finally I went away. As I came of age, I left my uncle and aunt too and joined The Dark Angels band, even if my relatives were against it because of the singer and drummer’s bad reputation as cocaine addicts.”

  “Do you take drugs too?” asked Berenice without thinking.

  “Of course I don’t. I’ve a successful life ahead of me and I’m not gonna destroy it with an overdose and becoming an alcoholic, as my pa fears.”

  So why did you feel the need to hide in an old crock of an unknown person?

  4

  That night Berenice could not get to sleep because of her guest who rested just on the other side of the wall. She spent all night between feeling her heart pounding for encountering the famous Marc Hailen and shuddering at the thought of what could happen over the next few days.