—30—
Dead Famous by Ben Elton
Route 16 tram to Fitzroy Street, St Kilda
‘Jai, what can I do for you?’ Cat said nervously.
‘I’m looking for my darling Frankie,’ he replied, smoothing over his dark hair so that it clung to his forehead. ‘I saw—’
‘Jai here,’ Cat interrupted before he could say anything further, ‘is Frankie’s stalker.’
Sunny looked from Cat to Jai, fists clenched by his sides as Frankie poked savagely at Cat’s swollen ankles.
‘I am not her stalker,’ Jai huffed. ‘Frankie was just confused when she called me that. If I could just explain it to her …’
‘Well, she’s not here. Come with me, Jai.’ Cat waddled across to the other side of the counter, linking arms with Jai and guiding him slowly towards the door.
Sunny poked his head over the counter, gazing down at Frankie. ‘You have a stalker?’ he asked gruffly.
‘Sunny, I can explain.’ Frankie stood up cautiously, dragging Seb up with her. She reached for Sunny’s hand but he pulled away.
‘I can’t believe you kept something like this from me. This is just typical. Who is he?’ Sunny asked defensively. Frankie glanced at Seb, who shrugged. She took a deep breath. This is it. It’s time to come clean.
‘Well, you see, a few months ago—’ Frankie started.
‘A few months ago!’ Cat came running back. ‘When Frankie was Period Girl. Remember? You two had only just met,’ she interjected.
‘How could I forget?’ Sunny said coolly.
‘Well, a few people saw her video and became obsessed with her. It didn’t last long, but Jai couldn’t let the whole thing go. We haven’t seen him in months, really. But he did love to lurk around here every so often. He’s harmless. We must’ve forgotten to tell you about him!’ Cat said, all in one breath. Sunny watched Frankie closely, but she looked unswervingly at the floor.
‘So, that’s it? Just a crazed fan?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘That’s it. How ridiculous is that? So, no need to worry, I told him where to go.’ Cat laughed a little too hard.
Sunny didn’t look convinced. A subtle change in his features showed a transition from concern to distrust. ‘If he comes back again, you two let me know. You really should report him,’ Sunny said, lightly brushing Frankie’s arm.
Frankie, Cat and Seb all nodded compliantly.
‘I should get going. I need to get that final proposal done by the end of the day.’ He bent down to kiss Frankie goodbye.
As Sunny strolled out of the bookstore, Cat, Frankie and Seb finally exhaled.
Frankie groaned, dropping her head in her hands. ‘I am a horrible human being.’
‘You’ll tell him the truth soon. After tonight’s date,’ Cat encouraged.
Sunny: I hope you’re okay, Frank. Any other stalkers I should know about?
Frankie: Only the one. I’m fine. I promise.
Sunny: Okay, Period Girl x
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE ANSWER THIS NUMBER: I still love you.
Frankie tied her hair into a loose ponytail and adjusted her denim jacket. Taking a deep breath, she tried to ignore the pangs of guilt stabbing sharply at her stomach like tiny ninjas. She was standing outside the Milk the Cow fromagerie in St Kilda, where she had agreed to meet Miguel. She wrapped her arms around herself, in part to keep warm but also in comfort. She was seriously considering backing out, but then the tantalising thought of a successful book deal, a way to redeem her writing career once and for all, pushed her through the large wooden door and into the fiery warmth of the bar.
She glanced at her watch: five minutes early. She sat at a free, cosy table in the corner of the room, placed her own tattered copy of The Alchemist in the centre and then opened the menu. Just get some good material and get the hell out of here. Shouldn’t be hard with a poet-turned-acrobat with a precarious grasp of the English language. She took out her mental pen and paper, ready to take notes.
‘Frankie?’ a tanned, tall and ridiculously good looking man asked in a seductive accent.
‘Miguel? Nice to meet you.’ Frankie stuck out her hand to shake his, but instead he leaned over and kissed her twice, once on each cheek. Caramel curls fell carelessly, framing his perfectly symmetrical face, and Frankie felt herself flush before his piercing blue eyes.
‘Sit down, you’re making me nervous.’ Frankie giggled.
‘I am so happy I meet you,’ Miguel said as he took a seat. God, even his terrible English is sexy!
‘Good to meet you too, Miguel. What did you think of The Alchemist?’ Frankie nervously tore at a napkin under the table.
‘I read it before, you remember? It is my favourites. That’s why I think, maybe, this might be fate.’ Miguel’s eyes twinkled. Damn it. Frankie’s stomach was in knots.
‘Of course. Shall we order?’ Frankie raised her hand in the air gracelessly, attempting, in vain, to get the attention of the waitress. Finally, a strikingly tall woman with a dazzling nose piercing glided towards them and asked for their order.
‘We’ll have the Cheese and Wine Flight. If that’s okay with you, Miguel?’ Frankie asked.
‘Yes, for of course. Cheese and wine, how you say, go together like the Romeo and Juliet?’ Miguel smiled and Frankie heard the waitress clear her throat. After jotting down their order she slowly backed away, not taking her eyes off Miguel.
‘So, Miguel, you’re an acrobat?’ Frankie asked.
‘Yes, you ever met an acrobat before, Frankie?’ The flickering candlelight enhanced his best features.
‘Never. What made you get into this field?’ Frankie said, deadpan. Do not flirt! she silently commanded herself.
‘A park? I am not go to a park today,’ Miguel replied, confused.
‘Sorry!’ Frankie gasped. ‘Your job. What made you choose acrobatics?’
‘Ever since I was child, I want to be acrobat. I think acrobat is the, how you say, sex of the circus,’ Miguel said, expressionless.
‘That’s beautiful.’ She stifled a laugh, making a mental note to keep that little piece of magic for her blog.
‘As you are.’
At that point the waitress interrupted, carrying a large tray of aromatic camembert, Stilton and brie and three different types of red wine.
‘Ah, this appears delicious.’ Miguel licked his lips, then sucked on a piece of cheese. ‘You like to see trick?’ Wow, he even makes cheese slurping look seductive.
Frankie shrugged, trying her hardest to remain polite but unimpressed.
Miguel winked and downed the glass of wine in front of him. Then he stood up, flexing his arms above his head and baring a thin strip of tanned abdomen in between his jeans and white shirt.
He put out his hand for Frankie, which she reluctantly took hold of, and walked her to the back of his chair, stroking her palm. Frankie pulled her hand away quickly. Miguel pushed his chair in and began to move the table opposite him backwards.
‘What are you doing?’ Frankie asked.
‘I make room for front aerial,’ Miguel said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
‘Right here?’ Frankie asked.
‘Yes. Where else?’
Frankie looked around the intimate restaurant, at couples huddled over plates of cheese and crackers, clinking wine glasses and licking shared spoons. Miguel leaned over and tapped the violet-haired woman sitting behind him on the shoulder, informing her, in broken English, that she should ‘abandon for protection reasons’. She narrowed her eyes and grudgingly scooted her seat back.
‘Are you ready?’ Miguel purred, but Frankie avoided eye contact. He counted to three under his breath and then he was off, gracefully pushing his body forward, holding his sturdy arms out in front. His hands lightly skimmed the ground before vaulting his body over the top of himself and landing elegantly on two feet. The entire restaurant erupted in applause, and he gave a small, humble bow.
‘That was brilliant,’ the violet-haired woman gushed, her cheeks turning a similar colour to her do. Wolf whistles roared from the back of the restaurant, diners held their forks in midair, mouths open, and Miguel beamed proudly back at them all.
Frankie fell back into her chair, embarrassed by all the attention her date was attracting. She cut herself a slab of camembert and spread it generously over a cracker, then slathered it with quince paste and shoved it into her mouth. Is this guy for real?
Miguel, having dismissed calls for an encore, sat back down opposite her, watching her as she ate, seemingly entranced. Frankie tried to focus on the cheese and biscuits, avoiding his burning gaze.
He cleared his throat. ‘You are beautiful girl. You are my ocean pearl.’
‘What?’ Frankie replied, choking on her cheese.
‘I poet, remember? I wrote you poem, my Frankie.’
Frankie sighed. This is for the book. This is for the book.
We meet because of Paulo Coelho, Miguel recited.
Your heart, may I borrow?
We love the same books.
Feijoada, for you, I want to cooks.
Frankie, your eyes, they are beautiful like mine.
You are to me, a book spine.
I am the pages and you hold me tight.
We go home to mine later, all right?
Frankie took a gulp of wine.
‘That was incredible,’ the waitress, suddenly appearing, said breathily. But Miguel didn’t take his eyes off Frankie, who was guzzling her third glass of red with averted eyes. He leaned over the table and tickled her arm with his fingers. Frankie shivered.
‘So, tell me what you like about The Alchemist,’ Frankie said, suddenly feeling the wine rush to her head.
Miguel cooed, recalling all of his favourite parts. Frankie, desperate to steer the conversation towards more neutral territory, chimed in, quoting scenes, recollecting the first time she read the book while travelling around Europe. Miguel told her how he fell in love with Santiago’s journey when he first read it in high school. Even with his halting English slowing them down, Frankie felt alive while discussing literature, a surge of electricity igniting scholarly sparks between them. Her heart raced while she deliberated Brida, Eleven Minutes, Aleph and The Pilgrimage, so swept up that she forgot where she was, whom she was with. Until Miguel placed his hand over hers, and suddenly a bubble of remorse burst inside her chest.
‘I should get going,’ she said quickly, pulling her hand away.
‘Okay,’ Miguel said, laying a wad of cash on the table. As he guided her out of the restaurant, his hand on the small of her back, they received a few solo claps from diners who had witnessed his earlier performance. Stepping out onto the street, Miguel stood uncomfortably close to Frankie.
‘Well, that was fun. Acrobatic tricks performed in the middle of a restaurant; you don’t see that very often. I wish I had your flexibility! I can’t even do a star jump.’ Frankie laughed awkwardly.
Miguel didn’t return her laugh. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and whispered, ‘Do you trust me?’
‘Uh, I guess.’ And with that, Miguel lifted Frankie off the ground and tossed her above his head, twirling her in a full circle over his arm. Frankie squealed in both surprise and hysteria. He put her down smoothly, then straightened her jacket on her shoulders.
‘Well …’ she stumbled, stunned.
Miguel laughed and moved closer. Pressing his thumb to her lip, he moved his mouth towards hers.
Frankie ducked her head. ‘Ah, I’m sorry. I really have to go. Thanks for a nice night. Catch you around,’ she said, already running in the opposite direction.
Frankie tiptoed in through Sunny’s front door, her head spinning from the copious amount of wine she had consumed. She spotted a chocolate meringue sitting in the centre of his kitchen table, a post-it note stuck haphazardly to it.
Thought you might be hungry after a night of helping Cat with ‘women’s issues’.
Frankie pushed a toxic sensation to the back of her mind and took a bite. It powdered, leaving a trail of crumbs down her sweater. She slipped off her ballet flats and tiptoed towards his bedroom. She heard him before she saw him. A soft, shallow breathing that she had come to know only as his. Tentatively, Frankie pushed open the door. He lay on top of the blankets, wearing nothing but a pair of red boxers, his sculpted stomach moving up and down as he breathed. God, he is beautiful.
Frankie crept inside, slid off her clothes and skimmed into bed beside him. She wrapped her arms around his big body, softly placing her leg over his, nuzzling in, not able to get close enough. She kissed his neck, inhaling his scent.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, careful not to wake him. The words felt clunky in her mouth. But for the first time in forever, Frankie was happy.
Then why did she have tears rolling down her face?