This visit, and that hypocrisy could not prevent him from revealing his real opinion about to dive Vanina participated in anguish as unusual for her to see his plans disrupted. And if the blind old hag spoke to newspapers? It would be discredited. It would have power over me, my career ... I'd thank you to her. I must act first if I want to keep control. So she hastily wrote an article where she tried to explain with as much skill as possible how she disapproved of the what Leon was involved, without coming back on his supposed affection for him. She took offense when handling these emissions were operating on these beings lost, the disgrace to make money solely on the principle of mediocrity, and the viewer's thirst for juicy details - and as low - to put in their mouths. She reread the article, with some minor stylistic changes, and published it on his blog.
few short hours later, the man who advised him to exploit the "seam Leon, and had sent waltz - by fatigue - on the vast anonymous mass of his "exes" there were a few weeks ago, called him.
- Vanina, what did you do? There are already three or four news sites on the Internet that talk about your "revelations" about Leo ... and they are twenty, then a hundred in a few minutes, believe me ... no ... but you
- Yes, I published a article on my blog, she cut sharply. I had no choice, its old skin of my mother trapped.
She explained what had happened. At the end of his story, he replied that she had had choice, and she had done the wrong, and many other things she barely listened as she was taken aback. This unpleasant sensation of unexpected, so unusual for her, her stomach knotted. She lost foot, and thought even more if she had to hide or not. She never went out of its torpor only to hear "... biggest mistake of your life ..." what does it stuttered in response that "Yes, okay, well, goodnight ..." before hanging
She lay on her bed while, but found that the tears to express the nausea that came over, tears streamed down his temples and were jumbled in her blonde hair and behind his ears. She stayed a few minutes in this lethargic, upset that suddenly came the ringing of his phone. "Yes? "
- Vanina is Leon. I want us to go to dinner early Persia, you know, the restaurant in the park with peacocks, where we went early. More
surprise that this call that she was not expecting at all, she accepted a faltering tone, noted the time of their appointment. Five hours later, she waited tables at Leo's Restaurant, perfectly dressed, as if nothing had happened. She wrote to Leon, when he arrived, a bright smile, he really did not return. His gloomy brand, as she examined more carefully than usual this new Leon which she did not know what to expect. Leo was of clothing actually much darker than usual: his jacket was black, his dark brown pants. This silly and smug smile he wore often seemed to have deserted his face, which could be read more than uncertain emotion and a certain depth it does it not know.
She engaged in conversation as she had done almost every one of their interviews, seizing some banal came to his mind. He replied, but with less enthusiasm and abundance than formerly, and never ever looked quite. She made several other attempts, equally unsuccessful. She then saw a peacock a few yards of them, who paraded cheerfully. She saw him as a backup so divine qu'inespéré, on which she threw herself, relieved - he had expressed such an interest for them, to such an extent they had succeeded in diverting momentarily the attention it otherwise essentially reserved his beautiful Vanina.
- Oh, look at Leon, peacocks! Do you remember? It was fun, I remember you told me I looked like them! ... It's true they are beautiful.
And, forgetting the bad feelings that had worried about them at their first appointment, she took the time to enjoy their singing, which seemed now to be a providential oasis. "Vanina, you know, I hear. . She paid no attention to this remark, and continued to dream softly, staring warbling in their colors. "Vanina, I hear them," he repeated louder. This time, she heard, and looked with a grimace that showed she tried to understand what interest he could well find him say such things. "Yes, yes, me too, everyone besides, it did nothing ..." she answered until she notices the seriousness of the face of Leo, who suddenly cut short his remarks somewhat annoyed, and put an end to the gentle lull of anxiety. He then repeated:
- Peacocks, I hear. I hear what they say. I hear what they say.
She was not moving, hanging on his lips, not knowing what to understand - and she began to fear that he could understand him. After a few seconds of silence heavy and stiff, he said:
- They tell me that you never had the courage nor the heart to tell me.
She became livid. He continued:
- It's true that you are like them: you parries, you play the beautiful, and you do hold out your feathers so that all men go crazy about you. But they tell me I am con. You, you say long time, but you hide, better to make fun of me. I gave you opportunities to tell me, but you just do nothing. And what hurts me even more is that when I exaggerated to the point where I said you could only find me ridiculous, and where you finally decide to tell me, you were more hypocritical than ever and made faces to see me as ridiculous. That's the other day that I can really understand who you were. You see, I did not think too much of the image we might have of me and I saw people who looked happy, and people seemed to appreciate me, so I told myself that if I were able to give them a little joy, much to do. So yes, you're smart, and it should be comfortable for you to be admired by an idiot, it takes less work comfortably while playing the game of the intellectual elite as you think you are. And I may be stupid, as you all seem to believe, but for me a very intelligent would be nice, because he understood better than others what is happening and what it does, then why would not he good? I thought I had a broken heart, but I quickly said you did was worth the effort. And you're nothing to criticize my mother.
Thereupon he rose, paid for their drinks and left. Vanina sat, too stunned and silent.
few short hours later, the man who advised him to exploit the "seam Leon, and had sent waltz - by fatigue - on the vast anonymous mass of his "exes" there were a few weeks ago, called him.
- Vanina, what did you do? There are already three or four news sites on the Internet that talk about your "revelations" about Leo ... and they are twenty, then a hundred in a few minutes, believe me ... no ... but you
- Yes, I published a article on my blog, she cut sharply. I had no choice, its old skin of my mother trapped.
She explained what had happened. At the end of his story, he replied that she had had choice, and she had done the wrong, and many other things she barely listened as she was taken aback. This unpleasant sensation of unexpected, so unusual for her, her stomach knotted. She lost foot, and thought even more if she had to hide or not. She never went out of its torpor only to hear "... biggest mistake of your life ..." what does it stuttered in response that "Yes, okay, well, goodnight ..." before hanging
She lay on her bed while, but found that the tears to express the nausea that came over, tears streamed down his temples and were jumbled in her blonde hair and behind his ears. She stayed a few minutes in this lethargic, upset that suddenly came the ringing of his phone. "Yes? "
- Vanina is Leon. I want us to go to dinner early Persia, you know, the restaurant in the park with peacocks, where we went early. More
surprise that this call that she was not expecting at all, she accepted a faltering tone, noted the time of their appointment. Five hours later, she waited tables at Leo's Restaurant, perfectly dressed, as if nothing had happened. She wrote to Leon, when he arrived, a bright smile, he really did not return. His gloomy brand, as she examined more carefully than usual this new Leon which she did not know what to expect. Leo was of clothing actually much darker than usual: his jacket was black, his dark brown pants. This silly and smug smile he wore often seemed to have deserted his face, which could be read more than uncertain emotion and a certain depth it does it not know.
She engaged in conversation as she had done almost every one of their interviews, seizing some banal came to his mind. He replied, but with less enthusiasm and abundance than formerly, and never ever looked quite. She made several other attempts, equally unsuccessful. She then saw a peacock a few yards of them, who paraded cheerfully. She saw him as a backup so divine qu'inespéré, on which she threw herself, relieved - he had expressed such an interest for them, to such an extent they had succeeded in diverting momentarily the attention it otherwise essentially reserved his beautiful Vanina.
- Oh, look at Leon, peacocks! Do you remember? It was fun, I remember you told me I looked like them! ... It's true they are beautiful.
And, forgetting the bad feelings that had worried about them at their first appointment, she took the time to enjoy their singing, which seemed now to be a providential oasis. "Vanina, you know, I hear. . She paid no attention to this remark, and continued to dream softly, staring warbling in their colors. "Vanina, I hear them," he repeated louder. This time, she heard, and looked with a grimace that showed she tried to understand what interest he could well find him say such things. "Yes, yes, me too, everyone besides, it did nothing ..." she answered until she notices the seriousness of the face of Leo, who suddenly cut short his remarks somewhat annoyed, and put an end to the gentle lull of anxiety. He then repeated:
- Peacocks, I hear. I hear what they say. I hear what they say.
She was not moving, hanging on his lips, not knowing what to understand - and she began to fear that he could understand him. After a few seconds of silence heavy and stiff, he said:
- They tell me that you never had the courage nor the heart to tell me.
She became livid. He continued:
- It's true that you are like them: you parries, you play the beautiful, and you do hold out your feathers so that all men go crazy about you. But they tell me I am con. You, you say long time, but you hide, better to make fun of me. I gave you opportunities to tell me, but you just do nothing. And what hurts me even more is that when I exaggerated to the point where I said you could only find me ridiculous, and where you finally decide to tell me, you were more hypocritical than ever and made faces to see me as ridiculous. That's the other day that I can really understand who you were. You see, I did not think too much of the image we might have of me and I saw people who looked happy, and people seemed to appreciate me, so I told myself that if I were able to give them a little joy, much to do. So yes, you're smart, and it should be comfortable for you to be admired by an idiot, it takes less work comfortably while playing the game of the intellectual elite as you think you are. And I may be stupid, as you all seem to believe, but for me a very intelligent would be nice, because he understood better than others what is happening and what it does, then why would not he good? I thought I had a broken heart, but I quickly said you did was worth the effort. And you're nothing to criticize my mother.
Thereupon he rose, paid for their drinks and left. Vanina sat, too stunned and silent.
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