The Dancing Torera

54

Anais

"Thanks for letting me stay here...again" I struggled pulling the handle of the nearest suitcase on the left.
Mariela squeezed past me, yanking the bag from the trunk with ease before closing the hood of the taxi.

"Ughh. They are relentless" I groaned, looking at a few photographers parked in the distance. They were snapping pics of us as we moved to the apartment.

"You get used to them" Mariela stuck out her tongue, sticking up a middle finger at the photographers lingering around the gates of her complex. They were itching to catch a glimpse of the Dancing Torerra.

I pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride before running to Mariel. She opens her apartment entrance, rolling both my bags to her room.

I collapse onto the couch, fanning myself with a magazine on her table as the cool breeze from her open window caressed my glistening skin.

"You made the front page by the way" she yells from the other room.

"Hmm?"

Mariela leaves the room, pointing to the magazine in my hand. There was a vibrant photo of me snapping Esteban's cheek. I hold back a smile, trying to feel some remorse. But it was so hard!

"So?" She asks, moving to the kitchen, pouring me a glass of cool ice water.

"So..." I whisper, stalling from telling her any of my recent updates. She pushes the glass into my hand, watching me until I gained the confidence to speak.

"Good news, I got a coach"

"Great! Who is it?"

"She's amazing! She well trained in bullfighting and can make me a pro in no time"

"Who is it?" Mariela asks again.

"And she is doing as a favor! Can you believe it"

"Who is it?! Spill!" She urged.

"Gloria" I confess, taking a sip of my water.

"Gloria? As in Esteban's La Renta's mother?" Mariela couldn't believe her ears.

"Yes" I whisper, taking another gulp so I could prohibit my speech. Mariela sighs and sinks to the other side of the couch, surveying the details of her ceiling.

"I also...kinda told the whole world you were my manager."

"Anais!" She shot up, glaring at me with annoyance.

"I mean I thought you heard me yesterday? You were in the locker with me."

"I left early when it got so busy! I love you amiga but I often get left in the shadows when you are with Esteban..." she peers into her open palm.

"Sorry amiga..." I apologize, dewing and for casting her to the shadows.

"No apology. It's life. You're famous....Esteban is famous"

There was a deafening silence between us before I decided to break it.
"I understand if you don't want to."

"I mean that explains all the calls I've been getting since yesterday night"

"Calls?"

She stands to her phone and clicks the black button on the messaging machine, replaying all the messages.

"Hey! We would love to have an interview with the dancing Torerra give us a call !"

Beeeeeep

"Hey this is Espana Daily. We want to do a spread on the Dancing Torerra. We're talking front page spread. Give us a call back"

Beeeepppp