Guests

F.J. Johnson Show

It's hard to believe that I'm standing at the doors of F.J. Johnson's recording studio in Burbank. After everything that happened with the plane, I thought I wouldn't make it in time for the interview.

Nevertheless, I must admit that ever since my identity was leaked—I don't know how—my sales on Amazon have gone up, and my publisher told me that "Muerte con Aroma a Café"—and its translation Death Tastes Like Coffee—is selling better than ever. Perhaps my appearance on the show is not as crucial as before, and that reassures me, allowing me to approach it with a calm mindset.

I need to calm down a bit. I was deeply disturbed seeing Rocio being chased in Málaga. Someone close must have tipped them off because I can't understand how the hell they knew where we lived. They even waited for her at her mother's house! I feel terrible that she's going through this situation.

We've barely spoken, except for her sending me photos and videos of Erin. She told me she's moving to her mother's house and that we'll have a long conversation when she arrives about how we're going to handle our lives and, above all, our daughter. She needs to have as normal a life as possible. One conversation is still pending, and our relationship will be a thing of the past.

I broke down in tears after that call. I never thought our relationship could come to an end. Despite everything that may have happened between us, I love Rocio. She's an incredible woman, and she made me experience the most beautiful moments with the arrival of Erin, but maybe that was the problem. Our relationship was supposed to be magical from the start, but it wasn't.

You might think that I forgot about her the moment I met Athena. The truth is, I did. Being with her made me feel that spark that I didn't feel with Rocio. I wanted to delve into that feeling, knowing that I was likely walking down an irreversible path. Getting to know her more intimately couldn't have been more magical. Our games, our jokes...

I enter the reception hall and see the channel's posters everywhere, featuring their stars—including the great Johnson—and a large-scale poster announcing my appearance! Now, I feel the nervous tingling in my stomach. Theodora Deznan, the writer who apparently discovered my book, appears and invites me to follow her as she leads me through the corridors to my dressing room, which I'll be sharing with a couple of other guests that, honestly, I don't know who they are—Theo told me, but I was so nervous that I forgot as soon as I heard it.

I step into the small room and see two African American twins rehearsing songs in true R&B style. I'm impressed by their talent and powerful voices. I assure you, I'll ask for their names and start listening to them and following them on social media. It's incredible to witness something like this face to face. We greet each other warmly, and we talk a bit about the nervousness of being on such a show.

As they say their goodbyes and leave the dressing room, I sit in the swivel chair in front of a mirror surrounded by lights—just like in the movies—and wait for the makeup artists to come in.