A Star in My Life

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A Star in My Life Page 7

by Victory Storm

“Stop it!” she shouted furiously and amused by that tickling at the same time.

  “So I was right! You were awake!” exclaimed Marc, laughing and going on tickling her, in spite of Berenice’s cries of protest.

  “Stop it! I can’t take any more of this!”

  “This is your punishment for keeping me out of the room for all this time and for telling me to not call you Berry!”

  Remembering that scene the girl stopped laughing.

  “Berry, please, don’t tell me you believe in those absurdities with which your mother fobs you off,” he went on with a little more caution.

  “Marc, you don’t understand.”

  “No, Berry. I do. Very well. I’m sure it was your mother to call you Berenice.”

  “Yes, it was, why?”

  “I think she fobbed you off with a horrible name to get back at you for the twenty pounds she put on during pregnancy.”

  “What an awful thing!”, said Berenice surprised.

  “No, your mother is an awful person if she speaks to you that way! I’m not surprised that you’re so insecure and frightened.”

  “Marc, my mom just tries to help me. She thinks to know what’s best for me.”

  “No, Berry. If your mother loved you, she’d accept you even if you didn’t meet her very questionable beauty standards. Shit, Berry, she thinks I’m your boyfriend and yet she came on to me! Damn it! What kind of mother plays dumb with her daughter’s boyfriend?”

  “It’s her way to behave. I don’t even think she’s aware of it.”

  “I’ve noticed that. And I’ve also noticed that she isn’t aware of how her sentences hurt you. She does nothing but treat you as a fat girl who can’t have a normal life, whereas you’re beautiful and adorable instead.”

  “You’re very kind, but…”

  “I’m not kind.”

  “…But I still don’t know if you tell me such things out of politeness or because you’re going away shortly and we’ll never meet again.”

  “I can’t believe in what you’ve just said,” he hissed angry and offended. “You trust more a shrew who’s obsessed by obesity rather than a sincerely honest man who has just paid one of his rare compliments to you because he means it and can’t stand that you believe the contrary.”

  “Marc, I believe you, but I don’t think to be as beautiful as you say.”

  “If not so, do you think I’d have kissed you?”

  “Maybe you did because I’ve a good temper.”

  “You’ve a bad temper and I’m often convinced to hate you as I do at this very moment.”

  “You’re the one with the bad temper. You’re arrogant, self-important, domineering, haughty, selfish, egocentric, full of yourself, conceited, rude, impolite…”

  “And you’re clumsy, awkward, squint-eyed, a junk food eater, a bad driver, naïve and silly!”

  “Thank you. I feel better now.”

  “So do I,” snapped Marc seriously, before pulling her towards himself and giving her a rough and quick kiss on her lips. “ Next time try again to contradict me when I pay a compliment to you and I’ll spank you.”

  “I’m not a child!” tried to reply Berenice still short of breath for that rough and exciting kiss.

  “Yes, but with this dress you look an eight-year child. And now get up, ’cause I’ve made the apple pancakes,” he ordered sternly, pulling her by the arm.

  8

  Marc and Berenice spent the whole afternoon watching the first two movies in which he had acted.

  If at first Berenice had thought about a new tactic of the actor’s self-satisfaction, then she had to contradict herself. Marc commented on most of the scenes telling anecdotes and episodes on the set that had seriously embarrassed him.

  He had admitted not to be a great actor and that his success was mainly due to his father’s fame, Chris Hailen, and to his good looks. However he thought he was not very talented and confessed her to not even particularly like that job.

  “But why are you an actor then?”

  “At first I took up this job in order to spite my father. We had just quarreled and I decided to get back at him choosing the actor’s job, the same he had left some years ago to be a full-time husband and father.”

  “Sorry to say so, but it seems silly from you to do such thing. You’re throwing away all your youth just to spite your father rather than really fulfilling your dreams.”

  “I’ve also played the violin with The Dark Angels,” defended himself Marc, offended.

  “And why did you give up?”

  “The other musicians who I played with were often so zonked that the concerts were in playback eventually. Besides, playing the violin liked me very much, but it was just a hobby to me. When it turned into a job, I hated it. I haven’t been touching a violin for three years.”

  “A crying shame. I liked so much to hear you play.”

  “Did you really like to hear me play or simply did you like to see me half-naked?” he teased her. His agent had always forced him to show off as much as he could, because he was convinced that nobody was really interested in the sound of a violin and all fans did not come to the concerts for his solo, but just to see him sweaty and undressed.

  “Both of them,” admitted Berenice.

  “Well, I’m tired of taking off my clothes, always, and of being in peak condition to attract attention. And I’m tired of those romantic comedies that I’m always asked to act.”

  “But isn’t the movie you’re acting in now an action movie?”

  “Yes, it’s. You know, recently I was so stressed by all those fans who considered me just the stud of the moment who was only good to kiss the leading actresses of the mushy movies I had to act in, that I asked to my agent to let me work in an action movie or else I’d have given up my film career.”

  “Boy! Have you really threatened to give up?” said Berenice, surprised.

  “Yes, I’ve. I couldn’t stand any more of all those kissing and sex scenes which I was always forced to act in. Even if they’re just fiction, I’m actually a very demanding man and tend to be very selective and discreet in my private life.”

  “You selective? You’re kidding! How many women have you already had in your life?” she sneered at him.

  “Hundreds of them.”

  “And you call this being selective?”

  “Yes, if you can have thousands of them. Anyway, as I was saying, I finally got to act in The Supremacy. I hoped to feel better working with some adrenaline, but actually it’s dreadfully boring. All the coolest settings are shot digitally and the most daring ones are shot by a stuntman.”

  “So you didn’t like it.”

  “No, I didn’t. I’m seriously thinking of giving up my actor’s career.”

  “And does your agent know that?”

  “We’ve discussed it,” said vaguely Marc under his breath, omitting the part in which his agent was about to punch him accusing him to be immature and ungrateful, after all that he had done for him.

  Just after that terrible quarrel he had run away from the set and hidden in Berenice’s car.

  “So what are you gonna do now?”

  “Well, I’m still young and very rich. Besides, I’ve some other aces in the hole. I’ve never believed in my artistic career, so I’ve always had a plan B ready.”

  “Which one?”

  Marc was about to answer when they heard that somebody had unlocked the front door.

  “If it’s your mother again…” immediately grew gloomy Marc who did not want to see Berenice sad and hurt again because of that insufferable woman.

  Luckily through the front door a seventeen-year boy walked in. He had gelled brown hair and so much deodorant on, that he filled the room with its perfume. For the rest, he was the spitting image of Tina in male version.

  “Hi, Roy,” greeted Berenice.

  “Hi, Nice. And who’s this guy?”, greeted the brother who was curious to find Marc there.

  “This is Marc, a fri
end of mine,” introduced Berenice, biting her tongue to using the actor’s real name. Roy was young and could recognize him. “Marc, this is Roy, my bro.”

  “Sorry, have we met?” asked Roy after looking at him suspiciously .

  “I don’t think so,” answered Marc calmly.

  “I don’t know why, but I’ve got the feeling you and I have met somewhere before,” insisted the boy.

  “Roy, what are you doing here?” intervened the worried sister.

  “It’s Saturday and I met Melanie yesterday.”

  “Melanie?”

  “A new girl. She’s sexy as hell. Tonight we’re going out and then I’m bringing her here,” explained Roy in a few words. He had the habit of picking up girls and then getting them into bed on Saturday evening in his old room. An apartment where just his sister lived made him seem dreamier and freer, compared to his parents’ large house.

  Moreover Berenice never asked him questions and their mother never concerned herself about digging any deeper , since she knew her son lived with his elder sister .

  “Tonight?” she got worried at once thinking about where Marc could sleep.

  “Yes, I’ve already informed mom and pa.”

  “Roy, tonight I can’t. I’ve a guest, you see?” tried to explain Berenice, pointing at Marc.

  “Nice, come on! I know he’s your new boyfriend. Mom has already told me everything. You don’t need to pretend to be just friends for me. You know, Nice, you can get anyone into bed. I don’t care and I’m not gonna mention this to pa.”

  “Roy, why aren’t you bringing Melanie here next week?” tried again Berenice, beseechingly.

  “Are you kidding? Girls like her don’t wait! Come on, Nice, don’t spoil my best sex ever!” snapped Roy furiously.

  “Roy!” cried the sister.

  “Berry, your brother’s right. You can’t cancel a date with a girl. His reputation is at stake,” added Marc, amused.

  “Marc’s right. Please… Berry!” begged the brother, calling her with her new nickname, that he already liked very much.

  Finally the girl had to accept and as her brother locked himself in the bathroom to have a shower and get changed before going out with his friends, she got angry with Marc.

  “And now where am I bedding you down?”

  “Surely not on that vertebra-mincer sofa.”

  “Yes, you’re! This will teach you not to support me.”

  “I’ll sleep in your bed tonight.”

  “Forget it.”

  “You can forget to let me sleep over there. You’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “Don’t be an idiot, and besides this is my house.”

  Although that discussion went on until the evening, they could not find a solution and in the end Berenice spent all the evening to retidy up her brother’s room and make his bed, whereas Marc was never off the laptop on the pretext of sending some emails.

  The general bad feeling that there was suddenly between them did nothing but make them quarrel over everything, from food they were going to eat for dinner to the choice of tv programmes.

  Only after they had been quarreling over the monopoly of the remote control for an hour, they finally opted for a horror film that just made Marc laugh for how it was shot and for the bad performance of one of the leading actors in it.

  At about 2 a.m., Roy came back home with his arm around a super sexy curly-haired blonde.

  Both of them were laughing and joking stupidly because of too much mojito they had been drinking that night.

  “Good night,” greeted Roy, passing by the sofa to go to his room.

  Also the girl greeted them absent-mindedly, but she stopped as soon as she saw Marc.

  “Aren’t you Marc Hailen?” she asked tipsy.

  “Many people ask me that. I wonder why…” answered Marc airily .

  “You look strikingly like him.”

  “Yes, but unfortunately I didn’t have his bank account and spend Saturday evening watching B movies at my girlfriend’s home.”

  “Can I take a picture of you?” she tried to ask full of hope, already imagining her friends’ reaction when she would have shown it to them, pretending that she had met the real Marc Hailen.

  “No,” intervened Berenice, frightened.

  “I’d like to, but I can’t. My girlfriend’s very jealous, as you see,” justified himself Marc, amused by Berenice’s reaction, but Melanie pulled away from Roy, who was hurt by being upstaged, and sat down next to Marc.

  “Except for the nose, you’re the spitting image of Marc Hailen,” she considered, being only inches away from him.

  “My love, come here. Let’s go to sleep. I’m tired,” squeaked Berenice nervously, dragging Marc to her bedroom.

  Although Melanie was annoyed, she had no stomach for following them and finally threw herself into Roy’s arms again. The boy pushed her into his room, ready to continue the evening in the best possible way.

  “That’s settled then: I’ll sleep with you in your bed,” realized Marc after Berenice locked both of them in her room.

  “Noway,” immediately clarified Berenice, throwing some blankets on the floor next to the bed.

  “Are you turning down a dog’s bed?”

  “No, I’m not. It’s a bed for unwelcome guests… like you.”

  “Forget it,” sharply clarified Marc, slipping off his pullover and trousers.

  “Wha… what are you… doing?” got anxious Berenice, gazing his striptease that left him only with boxer shorts and undershirt on.

  “You wouldn’t be thinking that I’m gonna sleep in my clothes.”

  “You can’t be like this in my room,” she got nervous, trying not to look down at the swelling of the boxer shorts.

  “Are you going there, in your bro’s room, to take me something to put on, running the risk of interrupting what they’re doing?” he replied, slipping into the sheets of the double bed.

  “And now where am I sleeping?” complained Berenice, being totally embarrassed and blue in the face at the thought of having Marc Hailen half-naked in her bed, whereas she wore her usual blue pajamas.

  “Come here. To your bed, Berry,” he invited, pointing at the space at the bottom of the bed.

  “I’m not a dog.”

  “ Nor am I, yet you’ve tried to bed me down on the floor. You’re the worst hostess I’ve ever met. I feel sorry for your guests.”

  Exhausted, she finally surrendered and slipped into the bed as well.

  “What are you doing?” exclaimed Marc nervously.

  “I’m going to sleep.”

  “With those clothes?”

  “Yes, why not?”

  “But aren’t you warm?”

  Yes, I’m, but I’d like to cover myself as much as I can in your presence.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Berry, go to put on a more appropriate pajamas at once. We’re almost in summer, not in autumn,” he scolded her and kicked her in the rear to push her out of the bed.

  “I hate you so much!” got furious the girl, running towards the closet in search of the spring pajamas that she had bought two weeks ago.

  After five minutes she was in bed again having a pink sleeveless top and three-quarter-length trousers on.

  “I thought you’d put on a nightgown. A silk nightgown maybe,” snorted Marc, disappointed.

  “ I don’t have it,” silenced him Berenice, pushing him away to snuggle herself down under the blankets.

  She had just switched off the light when felt Marc slip to her and hug her.

  “You’re so smooth and sleepy.”

  “Marc, let me go,” struggled Berenice, giving him a kick.

  “Come on, don’t be horrid. Can’t I even hug you?” whispered Marc softly with a lightly sleepy voice that soothed the young woman.

  “Marc, please. I can’t sleep if you behave like this,” making me desire to be only with you. And not just for one night.

  “If you like, we can behave differently
.”

  This time he would not have made fun of her.

  “So what are you gonna do?”

  “What you’re thinking about.”

  “I was thinking about sleeping.”

  “I was thinking about something else.”

  “What exactly were you thinking about?”, she challenged.

  Any kind of noise and moans suddenly came from the other side of the wall.

  “About what they’re doing,” exclaimed March laughing, both amused and disgusted by the din Roy and Melanie were making.

  “If you want me to cry, it doesn’t need to go that far,” jested Berenice, both amused and embarrassed by her brother’s sexual marathon job that was shaking the walls.

  The moans increased.

  “I hope they’ll get soon to the point because I can’t have sex while hearing the others fuck,” got annoyed Marc.

  “Why don’t you sleep?” invited Berenice, frightened by his words.

  “I can’t. Not with you in my arms,” he murmured in a seductive voice, giving some light kisses on her bare shoulder.

  “Marc, stop it!”

  “I thought you’d like that.”

  “Well, you were wrong.”

  “Am I not enough handsome to deserve your favors?” he teased.

  “It’s not that.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t do such things with anyone, but only with my boyfriend.”

  “But I’m your boyfriend!”

  That sentence forced Berenice to turn to him even if she could not see him in the dark.

  “Says who?”

  “Says your mother and bro.”

  “ The main thing is my opinion, not theirs.”

  “And what’s your opinion?”

  “I think I barely know you and we aren’t together.”

  “Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Actually I don’t either, but I like to be here with you and I know everything about you. Your laptop has been a real mine of information and you’re an open book to me.”

  “You’re a stranger to me instead.”

  “But if you’ve been following my career for years! I’m sure you’ve read all my interviews, you’ve seen all my movies and concerts, even if I bet your favorite part are my photo shootings.”

 

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