The following stages were equally challenging, but satisfying. Belinda's appearances were always acclaimed and eagerly awaited. Many speculated about when she would remain on stage, finally determined to surrender.
However, this didn't happen, and by adding small variations, such as an arm raised towards the boy's face or a hand placed over her heart, the audience's participation and tension increased, as they wondered how it would end.
Needless to say, the happiest were André and Lucas, who by now had fun with various proposals that the girl consistently rejected, since special effects like disappearing or flying away were impractical.
For her, the scenes had to be intense, but simple and short, also because she had little space to exploit. She always had to find the right moment to arrive, since Bill didn't worry about it and, more often than not, when she was about to enter, he would head somewhere else.
Fortunately, there had been no mistakes or accidents.
In interviews, they always received a long string of questions about her, but by now it had become a fun game, and they would come up with the most absurd information to throw everyone off.
The tension between her and Bill had eased, and she tried her best not to disappear or reject his advances. Now it seemed almost natural to her that he would take her hand at the dinner table or in the car, that he would ask for support when he had to argue with others, or that he would seek her gaze when he needed to know she was there, present.
Occasionally, she would tease him, imitating the deep, authoritative voice of a strict teacher, especially in arguments with Tom, saying, "Bill's right!" He would burst out laughing, rolling his eyes, while she stuck her tongue out at him.
The three girls had settled in well into that nomadic life, even though Naomi didn't show up before noon and was grumpy for the first half hour after she woke up.
That morning, the house was deserted because there wouldn't be any concerts for two days, so Belinda got up, determined to get some exercise. She'd put on shorts and a tank top, put a headband in her hair, and as she was about to walk around at a brisk pace, she heard music coming from one of the rooms where they'd stored the instruments.
Curious, she went back to see what was happening, especially since she didn't think anyone was up, since everyone had gone to bed in the early hours of the morning.
She approached the half-open door and spotted Annalisa at the back of the room, leaning on a chair, watching Kristian play a very sweet melody on the keyboard.
"Don't ask me to sing the song, though." The boy laughed. "It needs a delicate little voice, not a big one like mine."
"It's beautiful!" Annalisa exclaimed delightedly, and closed her eyes to let the music carry her away.
The music continued, slow and rousing, until suddenly the boy stopped playing and, leaning over the instrument, kissed her. She jumped, but recovered quickly enough, hugging him and returning the kiss.
Giggling, Belinda pulled back and opened the door a crack, leaving them alone. Sure, she was pleased that Annalisa had finally realized her romantic dream, but she was also worried because she was still a young girl, while Kristian was almost a man. Besides, she was responsible for it all, and so… Oh dear! She had to keep an eye on her sister too, because she foresaw that things would develop on that field too, but while she could bet Kristian wouldn't get carried away, she couldn't swear the same for that troublemaker Tom. Ugh, how tiring it was to keep up with everything!
She was about to continue on her way, but the ringing of her cell phone stopped her as soon as she stepped out onto the street. She glanced at the screen and, with surprise but without the usual pang, recognized Alex's number. She decided to ignore it, but her head began to pound. Of course, she shouldn't answer, but he wouldn't give up; she knew him.
After a few minutes, as she ran, the ringing began again insistently: would he ever stop haunting her?
She thought back to the feeling of tranquility she had just worked so hard to achieve, and a sudden, hot rush of anger filled her: she wouldn't let him ruin her life forever!
She stopped running and quickly returned to the house. She went to the kitchen, made herself a cup of strong coffee, and went out into the garden.
She had made up her mind: she would call him and tell him to leave her alone, erasing him from her memories. With that bellicose resolve, she was about to dial the number when the phone rang again in her hand.
"Hello!" she replied resolutely.
"Hi, Luna, it's me."
She'd earned that name when she'd told him they'd tease her at home for her grumpiness, calling her Selena. She'd decided that Luna would be his nickname, to distinguish herself from the others.
At that moment, just hearing it made her furious.
"What do you think I should do? Dance with happiness because you're calling me, or tremble with fear, hoping you won't ask me where I am?"
He chuckled. "Because where are you, Luna?"
"In my boyfriend's arms!" she exclaimed with sadistic satisfaction, waiting for the reaction that soon came.
She heard a roar from the other end of the line and an object crashing somewhere.
"What, they couldn't even teach you some manners in prison? What a shame!" she quipped.
"Stop it, it's not funny!" he hissed angrily. "Where the hell are you? And who are you with? If I take it, I'll..."
"This is none of your business! What do you think, that I was living waiting for you to come back, maybe to finish your work?" he exploded, stomping his foot.
"I never meant to hurt you!"
"Oh, I see..." He pretended to think for a moment. "Sorry, they must have misinterpreted your gestures, your hands on my neck certainly weren't meant to strangle me!"
He heard a deep sigh, followed by silence. Moments passed before he resumed.
"Luna, I wasn't myself, how many times do I have to tell you? That damned stuff they gave me wasn't good, I was hallucinating!"
"It wasn't the stuff that was poorly cut, it was you who was full of it. That week, you overdosed twice," she reminded him mercilessly.
"But I recovered both times, did you see?"
"Enough with your stupid excuses, I don't want to hear from you anymore!"
"Listen, Luna…"
"I don't want to! Get lost!" he thundered.
"Listen to me, damn it! You know I'd do anything for you… Tell me what you want and I'll do it!" the boy shouted, trying to convince her to listen.
"Really?" Belinda asked in a hesitant voice.
"Yes, you've always been my angel. Remember how wonderful it was to be together?" he murmured soothingly.
Belinda sighed. "Yes…"
"So, don't you want to forget everything and start over?"
"I…"
"Come on, tell me what I can do for you, my love."
"Could you die? I want you out of my life!" he said brutally.
The conversation ended abruptly, and with a bitter smile, Belinda imagined that Alex had smashed the phone, as he had done many times before.
She hoped the card had been destroyed and that it would be impossible to recover her number, but she knew she wasn't so lucky. She'd already changed it twice, and he kept finding her, trying to track her down. It was a real pain! She didn't know who was giving it to him, but she'd stopped investigating: with her wealth, she could even buy the phone companies.
Belinda began to rant, kicking the objects in her path. "You bastard, you son of a horned goat! How could I even think of being with you? If I ever see you again, I'll..."
"I don't know Italian, but I can recognize when someone's swearing!" Bill exclaimed from behind her, arriving barefoot, his sweatpants too large for his, and his shirt off.
The girl whirled around, blushing and thanking heaven he hadn't understood her: it wouldn't have made a good impression.
Bill sat down on the step and yawned. "Who's making you so angry?"
"No one important… Did I wake you?" he grumbled, trying to change the subject.
"I could hear a phone ringing and I couldn't figure out whose phone it was."
"I'm sorry. Who did you steal those pants from?"
The boy looked down at his legs and smiled. "They're Tom's."
"Ah, that's why they're so trashy." Belinda laughed, referencing the guitarist's sloppy style.
"Are you going to tell me who you were fighting with before I melt in the sun?" he asked sarcastically, shielding his eyes to look at her.
The girl bit her lip, peering at him sideways.
Should she tell him? Unfortunately for her, with Bill she couldn't close a door or slam down the phone line to get rid of him. He would torment her until she confessed.
She snorted irritably.
"It was Alex, okay?" she confessed, immediately raising a hand to forestall his counterattack. "I have to tell you things you don't know, Bill. Do you think you can listen to me at this hour?"
"Yes, I'm awake now," she grumbled.
"Then let's go inside… Better if it's your room."
Bill raised an eyebrow and looked at her wryly. "What do you have to make up for, since you're willing to go into the wolf's den?"
"Listen, you toothless little wolf, make sure you walk or I'll take it out on you," she teased, giving him a hand to get up. "I'm not a fan of yours, so it won't work. I want to stay away from prying ears, that's all… And please, cover yourself, it's almost indecent!"
"My fans would go crazy, seeing me bare-chested and completely fragile when I wake up," he muttered, feigning indignation. "One more word and I won't be held accountable," she threatened, pointing a finger at him. "Fragile… Oh my God, what bullshit are you talking about?"
Chuckling, she dragged him into the bedroom where, still pretending to be offended, Bill slipped on a sweater and lay down on the bed, in the dim light, to listen to her.
He invited her to sit next to him and talk.
Belinda began slowly, pausing at times, avoiding only how confused she felt, but laying out most of the details of the last phone call.
When she finished, she felt tired, but also relieved of her burden, and waited for Bill to speak.
He had kept his eyes half-closed the whole time, and only at the end did he sit up and touch her cheek with his hand.
"This boy seems obsessed with you. He's not just a drug addict, he's crazy. You know that, right?"
"It wasn't always like this..." she tried to explain, her voice shaking.
"Don't justify it, or you'll never get rid of him."
"Look, Bill, I told you all this because I wanted you to understand, but..."
Angrily, she stood up to leave. She hadn't understood, she knew. She was prepared for this, but she had hoped...
A warm hand took her wrist and gently pulled her toward him.
"It's okay, Bel, you did what you thought was right. Now don't think about it anymore. I'm here with you, and he can't hurt you."
He pulled her close and laid her down beside him, hugging her tightly and softly singing a sweet melody.
Belinda nestled into those slender but protective arms and, resting her face on his chest, closed her eyes.
"Not a bad singer." She smiled playfully. "Who is he?"
In response, Bill held her tighter, enveloping her in his warmth, making her forget about Alex and his madness.
Outside, the sun shone in all its splendor.