great babysitters and nany, and try as much as I can to keep my life. My mother is Italian, she loves babies, she came to look after us during two weeks after he was born. His name is Pierre, like Pedro, but I didn't want his name to look Mexican. I like his tiny little hands and foots, I could kiss them all day. I'm proud that he's a boy. I don't know why I didn't want a girl, I know by experience they're tough with their mother when they're a teen ager, and there's anger in the relationship, no matter the characters.
His father lives in Miami, before it was not easier as he was living in Seattle. I took so many week-ends in this rainy city in the last three years. We had nothing to do except to discover each others bodies on the king size bed, looking at the rain on the windows in the beautiful flat in a skyscraper. He works for a big cosmetic company, we met in meetings a few years ago in Paris.
At that time, I was with another French guy, called Bruno. Bruno became a pain in the hass when he understood once we had move in NY that I was seeing Pierre's father.
He's an artistic director, famous in the last ten years for disc covers. He's talented. Now he's suing me for having money, as I deliberately alter his career in Paris deciding the move to the US, while having an affair with another man. We only discuss now by our lawyers, like in a bad serie on tv.
I wonder what will be my life in ten years, mine is so different from ten years ago, like I'm the same, but my environment and my friends have changed except a few ones, that stayed loyal to me in the turmoil.
in Paris, we were near Montmartre, with a lot of bistrots around and trendy restaurants. I loved our bedroom with Bruno : a bed, then a wall of shoes, box with polaroid pictures to find the right one. I don't remember the name of the Indonesian President 's wife that had thousands of shoes, which was a scandal. I'm not far from five hundreds pairs, and I still love shoes.
I don't understand why when someone doesn't love anylonger another person, this person becomes mad at her or at him. That doesn't make sens.
The worst part was the hacking of my facebook account. He's the past, we're moving forward. If I had to rewind, erase, or change something, I wouldn't, although I lied to him, I knew he wasn't ready and he could have nearly killed me.
Second voice , Françoise, Luciana's friend
I wonder how you can have a baby, working hours that finish at ten, not even mentioning the travels. My friend is crasy, I know that from the begining. Last time I saw her, she was obsessed by having a massage, and the hour they proposed to her was not convenient, so she argued during hours. I was drinking my apple and carott juice, she was having a gin tonic. And playing with my straw, I was asking myself if I should better leave the table and let her with her narcissic story and obsessions, or stay her, accept her as she was, as a friend should do.
I'm not a very patient woman, I must acknowledge. We were single a few years ago, I had my love story with a guy, but we were living as teen agers having money : parties, spontaneous ideas to go out, short term vacations plans and mostly in the most expensive hôtels worlwide, the Chedid in Oman, the one I forgot its name in Dubai…We had orgiastic self tanning.
I don't like Luciana's new boyfriend and father of her child.
I don't know. He had already three children, married early, living in Versailles. You don't change deeply. According to me, this man is a coward and superficial. He loves Luciana's energy, perhaps he misunderstands that feeling and believes it's love. I don't think they'll be together in ten years. She'll have a third story for sure. Luciana is like that, she's got something to prove to her family, poor people from Naples in Italy. They're impressed, the grand mother says to anyone she meets in her district that her grand daughter lives in the big city, NY.
Bruno was a nice guy. Loving concert, stylish. A personality. He became mad at us when he surprised one day Pierre's father luggage at home in NY, coming earlier than scheduled. And two cups of coffee, one with Luciana's red lipstick, the other one with a cigarett in the cup.
He thought we betrayed him as covering Luciana when she met him, which was partly true, even if I hated to do it. He posted one message on facebook on Luciana's account, insulting us, and asking us to choose which of them was their friend. It was so nasty. He kept sending messages during hours until Luciana finally change her code, but the evil was done.
I'm asking myself if I could have behaved differently. Especially when I see Luciana obsessed by her success, her next launch of eyeshadows or color story. Full of herself.
I've changed. Now that I'm a mother of two, I'm calm. I speak less than before. I stil laugh but I'm more serious. I feel happier. That's nice to get brown near a chic swimming pool and to drink cocktails, but at the end, does it matter, what do you build or share with others.
It's like a bubble. For me, Luciana is still in her bubble. And his boyfriend follows her, as a butterfly caught by a bright light in the night.
Third voice , Bruno
I'm an artist. My life is at night. I love music and I play electric guitar. Most of my friends are like me. I miss Luciana. It hurt me so much when I discovered the truth that I wanted to buy a gun and kill both of them. In the NY state, it's easy to purchase a weapon. Or a knife to feel their life coming out of their bodies. However, the man that betrayed me is tall and sportiv, he was rawing, for sure a bourgeois sport for rich families.
I drank so much when she left me after I discovered her betrayal. Vodka, at the begining with ice. Then no ice. Then I didn't want to go out, gin, pure, without ice. And then as nothing was left, Martini and Campari. That sucked ! I was nauseous then sick for three days.
I don't know why she loves him. He's so conventional. So much the contrary of what I am. From time to time I wonder if she didn't choose him to drive me crasy. Or to reinsure herself on her status in the society. She must think : I'm beautiful, I work in a big company, I've got an international career, and I've got a tall guy looking good in suit… and a mess with his pullover on the shoulder and his shirt in his jeans in week-ends. He looks like nothing.
I spent so many hours shopping with Luciana, that I can't even see him waiting for her with his sleepy dog look.
I remember when we decorated our flat with Luciana. As we were begining our career, I was earning more than her at that time, we chose, I must say to avoid the terrible standard Ikea, to have furniture and lamps from Maroc. Our walls were with bright color, yellow and blue, and the old and heavy furniture inspired many diners with coucous and pastilla. It was easy for us, as neither of us was cooking.
I know everything about her. She's got "un grain de beauté" on her butt on the right side. She drinks soja milk in the morning. She changes her regime every two years even if she's thin as Italian women can be, but I believe she's afraid to look as our mother in thirty years : Duncan, meat and proteins, then detoxifying, then without gluten, I don't know the one she's experiencing at the moment. I know her prefered music player : Beyonce. Her prefered movie : Roméo et Juliette, with Leonardo Di Caprio when he was young and looking androgyn. Her prefered book : none, or how to be a Parisian, she doesn't read.
I saw a psy to overcome the situation after the crisis. He was the one to advise me to have a journal, where I would write my feeling of the day, instead of writing messages on social networks to any friend we had in common.
The crasyness has become a thirst of revenge. I will become her worst nightmare. I will make sure it cost them a lot of money, they've got so much that it's more to being a burden in their life, something they should think about, call a lawyer, check their revenues, loose a part of their freedom, because one never knows in an American state.
I should come back to France, I wait untill the end of the suing. Then I will see. Music is not what it was. People now do streaming and don't even look at a cover. They share their playlist. I prefered the period before, with big stars, crasy ideas, doing concerts but also selling millions of discs. I prefered my life before.
Some friends say to me to move forward. Like I would be a widow sad abo
ut his lost. I'm not sad. I'm mad at the situation forever.
If you read my journal, it's full of violence and insult. I can't help. It's not fair. Life is not fair.
Fourth voice , Pierre's father
I live in Miami. I like it like that. The sun, the beautiful girls in each restaurant or bar. My friends. I've always had fun with them, sharing a beer, speaking about our jobs, our latest car, and our latest love. I can't believe I'm a father again. It's like a rebirth, I feel younger. My elder son is nearly six teen, and I've got a baby.
I don't see my daughter and son very often. They took my wife's side when we separated. I lied, I said I was getting bored, whereas I was already seeing Luciana. She spent hours in my office. My General Manager even mentioned to me reminding me no sex at the office. I looked like surprised and upset about his assertivness. He even apologized to me and we took a drink to forget the incident.
I lied to so many people during so many years, from time to time I wake up thinking to hide the truth, before reminding myself I'm now officially with Luciana, and we even have a cute baby, a unexpected baby.
She always said to me she would never have a baby. At the begining she argued the situation in the world full of uncertainties, then she said her life was comfortable