Don't Tell The Paparazzi

Chapter 10

The downside of that morning: her stomach felt like it was filled with cement, burning, and her headache was infernal. As for the metallic taste in her mouth, Stella was still deciding whether it deserved to be classified as tolerable or truly unpleasant.The upside: Carter's face was the first thing her eyes landed on. Soft lines outlined his features, still caught in beautiful dreams. Stella could have spent hours just watching him and...Oh my God!She almost lost her balance. Her body still needed time to stabilize, but Stella didn't have a single minute to spare. She ran to the bathroom. Brian only woke up later, to the sound of the faucet running. The girl was brushing her teeth with unnecessary intensity if she wanted to keep all of them intact."Good morning..." Carter said through a yawn. "Feeling better?""Damn! It's almost nine o'clock. Damn! Damn! Damn!" Stella said after spitting out the mouthwash. "Oh, good morning! The hangover's better, but now I think I'm going to have a heart attack.""What time do you need to be there?""What time I *should've* been there," she corrected him. "It started at eight. I can't believe I overslept! Did you see my shoes?"Carter pointed to the pumps behind the armchair. She grabbed them, noticing the bile stain right at the tip."Oh... great.""Pack your bag," Brian said, sitting on the edge of the bed. It didn't take him more than three minutes to get dressed. "I'll check us out to save time.""What? No, no. You're not paying the bill, Brian," she protested, struggling with her earring clasp. "Just call me a taxi, please."He stared at her."I'm not calling a taxi. I'll drive you there."Stella froze mid-motion, one shoe in the air, her face astonished. Precious seconds passed as she tried to explain how much that act of kindness would cost him:"It's in Boulder, Brian. That's a forty-minute drive from here.""I can cut that time in half if the engine cooperates.""Brian, you don't have to...""...do this, I know. But I have no plans today, so stop being stubborn and let me take some responsibility for last night. Oh, and take the painkillers—they're on the table."She didn't resist further. Deep down, she loved it."Okay... I'll be ready in under ten minutes."---*Continuando a tradução...*---No clouds marred the sky that morning. The sun was already high—a reminder that Stella was absurdly late. Had she not been so nervous, she might have appreciated the beautiful architecture of the University of Colorado as Brian screeched the car to a halt. Five students near a brick wall all turned to stare at once as he braked.Carter turned off the ignition, and the tired engine protested. Stella looked at him, her gaze full of gratitude."Thank you so much.""It was nothing."She straightened her suit jacket, seeking approval."Do I at least look presentable?"The musician smiled mischievously."If all my teachers had looked like that back in school, I'd have been top of my class."The girl smiled faintly, and Brian returned the gesture. But the truth? Neither of them was truly happy. Stella gazed into his green eyes long enough to recognize their shade in a palette of thirty different tones. He squeezed her hand tightly, and her expression mixed pain with sadness as she said:"I really have to go, and I kind of hate the fact that I have to say goodbye to you. Again."Brian nodded in agreement."I guess we're both not great with goodbyes."Stella pressed her lips to his in a restrained, hesitant kiss at first, but it progressed as his hands drew her closer. Farewell kisses always feel unfinished when they end. Her throat burned, likely from the sharpest symptom of bottled-up anguish. She couldn't cry. Not in front of him."Go set up your stand. I'll wait until you text me that everything's sorted," Carter said, and even though that only delayed the inevitable, the girl found herself happy at the thought that he wouldn't leave just yet. A sweet, lovely illusion.She ran until she reached the stand where her banner on orthogonal polynomials should have been displayed two hours ago. The other attendees had the stereotypical profiles of nerdy math students: thick glasses, hollow cheeks from sleepless nights spent on calculations (or Netflix), and, in extreme cases, men who looked like their mothers still dressed them.She caught her reflection in a metal door. Her hair had chosen that morning to rebel, and her black suit made her rear look much bigger than it really was. She looked more like a sexy secretary from an adult film than a math conference attendee.Great.Okay. Focus, Stella. Focus on what matters: making up for lost time.At least her thesis wasn't that flashy. Not like the Indian presenter's, which dealt with "Mathematical Formulations of Quantum Mechanics." No one would have missed her, after all.No one except one of the event's organizers, who came straight toward her."Stella Reis," the man said, not bothering to make eye contact as he made quick scribbles on a clipboard, his hand seemingly afflicted by a nervous tic. "From the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil."She hesitated before replying."That's me. Nice to meet you, Mr...""Dickens." He raised his gaze. His face was smooth, not a single hair visible, and his hair was parted exactly into two equal sections. The type of person who wouldn't accept anything out of place...Or delays."I doubt your university will be happy to learn its representative was absent all morning. And I assume you don't expect to receive a certificate after this.""Mr. Dickens, I...""You're dismissed. You may go home."Stella felt a chill in her stomach, and it wasn't the hangover from the night before—it was fear. All her travel expenses had been covered by the university. If she couldn't prove her participation in the event, she'd be forced to reimburse all costs. That conclusion nearly triggered a panic attack."Mr. Dickens, I take full responsibility for my lateness, but the event doesn't end until tonight," she pleaded, her eyes imploring. "So, please, reconsider.""Save your energy, Miss Reis. I never reverse a decision," the pompous man said, turning his back on her.Stella stood frozen. She didn't even remember that Brian was waiting for her message until her phone started whistling in her bag. Luckily, Dickens was already at another point in the hallway, or he'd likely have penalized her for not silencing her device.[Brian]: Stella? Did everything work out?She typed back with trembling hands:[Stella]: Are you still here?[Brian]: In the parking lot, across from campus.[Stella]: I'm coming.---*Continuação em seguida...*---So Stella told him everything, and this time, she wasn't ashamed to let her tears fall. To hell with what he thought of her—she was doomed anyway. Brian listened seriously, only responding with slight nods at times. When he saw she was finished speaking (and would only keep crying), he said:"That's not right. Who does this guy think he is?"The teacher looked up at him with red, puffy eyes."He's the head of the Mathematics Department at the University of Chicago, Brian. The guy is simply one of the best in the world. Even NASA invests in his research projects."The musician's eyes lit up with a defiant determination:"Get out of the car. Let's go talk to him again."Stella stood still, staring at Carter, who had exited the vehicle and was now standing by her door."Brian, did you hear what I said? Dickens won't reconsider; he was very clear.""I think it's worth a try," the man countered, opening the passenger door. "Get out."She got out, feeling on autopilot and convinced this was a bad idea. Halfway there, when a group of girls pointed at Carter, Stella realized he wasn't wearing the accessories that helped him maintain his rock star anonymity."Hey, Clark Kent," she nudged him, "you forgot your glasses and cap.""No, I didn't."When Stella looked at him, puzzled, Brian explained:"Sometimes having a famous face has its advantages.""And this is one of those moments?" she asked, keeping pace with his quick steps."I don't know."And the teacher swallowed that information with difficulty.The murmurs began quickly, spreading through the event like a flood. Curious visitors and attendees abandoned stands to get a closer look at the Dark Paradise frontman. Stella tried to stay calm despite the circumstances. She spotted Dickens talking to a suited man in the corridor they had just entered, accompanied by a small crowd of nerdy guys who also happened to like rock. Ronald Dickens and his colleague paused their conversation to observe the scene."Got it," Brian turned to Stella. "It's the guy in the checkered shirt holding a clipboard.""That's him. But I still think this is a bad idea..."But Carter was already introducing himself to the two gentlemen. He shook Dickens' hand with so much energy it seemed to knock dust off the organizer's pristine aura."It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Dickens."Ronald Dickens looked at him with curiosity."Finally? You've heard of me?""Of course. I know you're the head of the Mathematics Department and have contributed wonderful research for the country."Oh. That was the brilliant plan? Stella nearly burst into laughter at her own misfortune.Dickens' eyes sparkled, and a faint smile curved his thin lips. The teacher remained in the background, hidden behind a small group of people.The frontman continued:"I doubt you know me, but...""I know who you are, Mr. Carter. I have two teenage daughters. Care to guess their favorite band?"Well, no one saw that coming."Oh, really?" Carter said, impressed. Ronald smiled, nodding in affirmation. "Wow... what an honor.""And how can I help you, Mr. Carter? I suspect mathematics isn't, as the young say"—Dickens mimicked air quotes with his fingers—"'your thing.'""Actually, I'd like to help you."The coordinator stared at him in confusion, then replied with implicit interest, firmly controlled behind a calm tone:"Go on.""Well... our band always invests part of our earnings in projects. You know, social and environmental causes. And, by coincidence, I met this girl this morning..." Brian realized Stella wasn't beside him. He glanced around and found her hiding behind two guys who could've been cast members of *The Big Bang Theory*. The vocalist hissed her name through his teeth. Stella reluctantly approached, her cheeks blazing with the embarrassment of a child caught misbehaving. Dickens looked her over."Miss Reis. What a surprise."Stella smiled awkwardly, and Brian resumed:"As I was saying, I met Miss Reis this morning, and I saw the congress banners with her. I thought, 'Man, this is a sign.' You know, I'm spiritual. Are you spiritual, Mr. Dickens?""No."Stella lowered her gaze to her shoes. This wasn't going well. Brian didn't care and continued:"So, our band decided—or rather, I decided on behalf of the band—that we should invest in education this time. And Miss Reis spoke wonders about the research projects you're developing here.""Did she, Mr. Carter?""Absolutely.""And which project caught your attention specifically?"Brian glanced sideways at the girl and began:"The one with all those calculations...""The one developing software for acoustic analysis and simulation in music practice rooms," Stella interjected. "Brian wants to encourage future musicians to rehearse without bothering their parents and neighbors.""Ah, that's a very interesting program. In fact, I pioneered it here at the university," Ronald Dickens said to them."Wow, what a coincidence!" Brian patted the man on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "I'm talking to the right person.""Quite the coincidence," Dickens said, looking between the frontman and Stella repeatedly. "So, Mr. Carter, you'd be interested in investing in our research projects?""Absolutely.""Even if the amounts are significant?"Brian smiled as only a 26-year-old millionaire rock star could."No problem. Shall I have my agent contact you?""Yes, I'll be waiting," Ronald replied, then handed a business card to the musician. The two sealed the deal with a handshake. Carter then turned to the man, as if forgetting a minor detail:"Oh, Dickens, about Miss Reis..."Ronald Dickens looked at his clipboard. He made a few quick marks, accompanied by a slight smile."You have five minutes to set up your stand, Miss Reis," he said, fixing her with a sharp look. "And don't make me regret changing my mind.""I won't, sir," Stella replied, overwhelmed with gratitude for Brian. "Thank you so much.""All right." Dickens then turned to Brian. "And Mr. Carter, I truly appreciate your help, but I'd like the focus of the event to return to the mathematical theses of the researchers—not the Dark Paradise frontman."Brian stared at him, slightly confused, but then understood."Oh. Of course. I'm on my way out. Well, it was a pleasure meeting you." The musician gave Stella a well-behaved look. "And Miss Reis, keep up your brilliant work."The buzz caused by his presence gradually subsided after he left.It couldn't have been more than five minutes later when Stella saw Dickens again, striding around the stands and approaching her with a casual air, his clipboard still clutched to his arm. In a tone devoid of emotion, though his eyes held a faint glimmer of softness, he turned to her and spoke quietly:"Miss Reis. I don't know how you and Brian Carter met, and I don't need to know, but... could you ask him to sign an autograph for my daughters?"---Postponing goodbyes to the last possible moment: Brian and Stella's favorite pastime. Carter carried bags containing snacks of various flavors, a bottle of Coke, and two chocolate bars. Stella pointed to the generous shade of an oak tree, and the two sat on the green grass, observing a football game taking place on another part of campus in the distance."I just realized you have terrible eating habits, Miss Reis," Brian said, emphasizing her last name as he tore open a metallic package. The smell of cheesy snacks filled the air."My mom says the same thing, Mr. Carter," she agreed but took a guiltless sip of Coke anyway. Then she licked the orange powder from her fingers: an artificial nacho cheese flavor. Suddenly, she laughed."What's so funny?" Carter asked."Just replaying your mystical cabal conspiracy story to explain my lateness.""Go ahead. I'm a genius."The girl rolled her eyes."Meeting me randomly in a coffee shop line? Do you think Dickens bought that nonsense?""Stella, I could've told him you were abducted by aliens, and he wouldn't have cared, as long as I promised to invest in his project.""Oh, right, there's that. I made you promise to give Dickens a lot of money.""It's not a donation. It's an investment in research projects. The band always allocates part of its profits anyway—it helps with tax exemptions. It's not a big deal."It really wasn't a big deal when you had more money than Scrooge McDuck. But cloudy thoughts unrelated to vast sums of money tightened Stella's expression. Brian noticed."What's wrong?""There's still the fact that I made you sleep next to a drunk girl in a guesthouse that looked like a set from *Psycho*."Carter laughed at her."Oh, but the hotel owner was so sweet, I doubt there are bodies hidden in the basement. Now, that drunk girl..."She smiled, though it was a reluctant one."You didn't have to do all this, Brian.""You say that so often," he sighed. "It'd be nice if you relaxed a bit, Stella.""It's hard to relax when I've been making you pay for my string of irresponsible decisions."He frowned."Actually, I took an inexperienced girl to a party that combined two dangerous elements: alcohol and Elijah."Hmm. Fair point."Speaking of Elijah..." Stella seized the opportunity. "Why do you two clash so much?"Brian pursed his lips, but the movement was so subtle it could've gone unnoticed if not for her keen eye."Well..." He began with a long sigh—a long story. "There was this girl once. Katie. At first, she was just a fan, but she became close to the band and joined us on a tour about two years ago. Elijah invited her to the parties we threw in Los Angeles, and... I didn't know he was really in love with her."Stella felt a pang of what might've been jealousy."And then... you hooked up with this Katie?""And then one night, after one of those parties at my house, I walked into my room, and she was lying on my bed. Without any clothes on.""Oh, and it was so hard to resist," Stella said, more sarcastically than she intended, her laugh coming out awkwardly. Brian glanced sideways at her."As I said, I didn't know Elijah cared about her. There was no reason for me to resist." His gaze turned distant, lost in some point in the past. "And it really made me feel bad because we were great friends."She quickly changed the subject."Your flight to Los Angeles is in three hours?"A bad topic, by the way."Yes." He snapped out of his trance to check his watch, then looked at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "But we could change our plans. Want to go to Las Vegas? Get drunk again?"The girl made a face."Except for the getting-drunk part, I'd love to go to Vegas with you. That is, if I weren't a mere mortal who has to work to make a living, Mr. Bon Vivant. Tomorrow, I fly back home," she said, checking her watch as well. "Speaking of which, my lunch break is over. I should go back before Dickens decides to scold me again.""Yeah, you can't push your luck twice. Who knows if another guy will show up to save you."The teacher gave him a light punch on the arm."Oh, and don't forget the autographs for his daughters." Stella ripped the plastic off two CDs bought at the convenience store along with their junk food. "Their names are Lauren and Chloe."Brian signed them and handed them back to Stella. Then he furrowed his brows and smiled darkly."And here we go again with this goodbye stuff... But you know what's different this time?""What?" Stella tucked the CDs into her bag, imagining two delighted Dickens girls with their gifts."We don't need to rely on fate's coincidences to meet again. We have each other's numbers, and you know I'm not in, how did you put it?" Brian paused, rolling his eyes. "'A hot tub with ten skinny Russian models' when I read your messages. So, we have no excuses not to stay in touch.""I said five—five skinny Russian models.""As if that makes much of a difference." Brian pretended to be annoyed but smiled as he said, "Close your eyes."Stella did as he asked. She felt his hand on her neck and heard a metallic click. She ran her fingers over her throat, noticing the new texture on her skin."Is this... your silver necklace?"The object had to mean a lot to him, considering he'd been wearing it the night they met."Yes. It's my lucky talisman. You'll wear it until the next time we meet. Then you'll give it back.""Are you sure?""As sure as I am of what I'm feeling right now."Carter's words had an immediate effect on her heart. She turned to look him in the eye."And what's that?""That I'm leaving one of the best things to happen to me in recent times behind in Boulder." He smiled as she continued to wear a hesitant expression. He ran his hands over her face, stopping at her cheeks. "And I'm not talking about my necklace, you silly girl."Suddenly, she had to fight with all her might not to skip the conference and follow Brian Carter to the ends of the earth. And as she felt his firm lips on hers, his hands wrapped around her waist, she thought Elijah—or anyone else who shared the guitarist's opinion—had to be wrong. Because Brian Carter, that lovable man who just so happened to be a rock star (a minor, unimportant detail at that moment), was far too perfect to ruin everything they had built during their whirlwind weekend.This man would never break her heart.