The video opened to Jim's smiling face filling the screen.

"Hey, there! Here I am, at the Miller ranch, and it finally stopped raining! Let me show you around."

He moved the phone away from his face to show a large rustic kitchen that was a complete mess.

"Oops. Cleaning lady's day off, I'm afraid."

He approached two women that worked at the sturdy wooden table in the middle of the room, their backs turned to him.

"Hey, girls!"

Both women turned to him, saw he was filming and waved hi at the phone. Jim put his arm around the older one, an African-American beauty in her forties, that shrugged Jim away when he kissed her cheek.

"Meet Deborah Golan, the supreme commander of this mess of an army," he said. "She also works as our full-time guardian angel."

Jim went to the other woman, a pretty girl in her late twenties, her dark hair very short over the back of her neck and almond dark eyes. "And this is dear Jo, my wannabe sister-in-law."

"Your wannabe? I wanna be nothing of you!" The girl pointed at him with the big knife she was using to chop greens. "Mind your words if you wanna get any dinner tonight!"

"Okay, okay, my bad! How should I introduce you, then?"

The girl flashed a bright grin at the phone. "Hi! I'm wannabe Sean's wife. And I'm the best indie director of the fucking world. Well, not yet, but gimme a couple of years." She turned to Jim again, scolding him like a child. "That's how you introduce me."

"Got it!" He stepped back, chuckling. "Let's get away from these chicks with knives. They make me nervous. Come, I want you to meet some more soldiers."

He went about the house, greeting about a dozen people of assorted genders and ages as he moved from room to room. Meanwhile, he explained that after finishing the first leg of their world tour, they'd decided to rent that ranch for a month, to work on their music full time before going back to Los Angeles.

"We need some solitude to work the way we like," he said. "And LA is always full of distractions. Deborah tagged along 'cause she thinks we're children that need constant supervision, if you can fucking believe it. And the others are here just for the fun."

He finally walked into a library where all the furniture had been moved to the sides, stuffed with amps and other equipment, an impressive rack with all kinds of guitars and several basses, at least half a dozen keyboards, microphones even at the most unlikely places and a set of drums like a wall to keep a castle.

There, he introduced his fellow musicians: the bassist Tom Paterson, the keyboardist Walt Stevens and the other guitarist, Liam McDonnell. Jim circled the wall of drums to show Sean. His brother waved his sticks at the phone with an awkward smile.

"Hey."

Jim let out a mocking scoff and turned the phone to himself. "He's trying to be nice, but you've already met him, right?"

He was still talking when Sean jumped on him from behind.

The phone was launched from Jim's hand to land on the rug in the middle of the room, showing the ceiling beams while the air was filled with loud voices and sounds of fighting. Until somebody picked it up. It was Tom Paterson, the bassist. He flashed an apologetic smile and turned the phone to show the Robinson brothers wrestling on the floor. A moment later, Sean pinned Jim down on his belly, put both arms around his neck and looked up at the camera, all sweaty and out of breath.

"Look. I'm beating the shit outta this bastard like you asked," he said, resisting Jim's attempts to shake him off of his back, cursing and panting and kicking.

Tom Patterson showed his face again.

"Welcome to our world," he said, and cut the video.

The next scene was outdoors. Jim held the phone on his side, to be in the frame with the front yard and the surrounding fields in a sunny afternoon. He smiled at the camera, still panting.

"So this is it. Regular me, with the people I spent all my time with. Now here's your homework: make a video to show me your place, your people, your life. You've got a week. See you!"

The video ended like it'd begun, with Jim's smile.

Paola waited to hear Silvia translate his last words and turned to her, finding the wet spark in her eyes, her lips curled up to match his smile.

"Can you believe it?" Silvia said. "This guy! Now I gotta make a video!"

Paola frowned, pushing back her chair to the other side of the table, and waited until Silvia played some music and left the tablet.

"But, Silvia, I— I don't understand. You never said you guys would stay in touch."

"Because that never came up! Why would we even mention it? Would you, over a one-night stand? And you can bet I didn't—no, I don't feel like trying the distance crap again anytime soon." Silvia looked away, sighing. "And now that I know who he is? Call me stupid, but— I mean, look at me! This guy sleeps with the hottest women on earth, and I— Well, I'm me, right?" She shook her head. "No, no. It's just that we connected about some things, and he can't live without an audience. You should see how often he tweets about anything! He must be bored at the ranch, and that's why he came up with this."

Paola let her talk, studying her. "And you're gonna play along?"

Silvia shrugged. "Why not? Do I have anything better to do, while I try to process and stomach what happened with Pat? And let's be realistic. The guy voted the second hottest man alive three years in a row makes this video specially for me, and he expects me to reply. Why would I say no?"

"Because? What's wrong with saying no?"

"Why would I refuse something that can make me feel good, if that's exactly what I need at this moment of my life? Actually, I'd still be using him as my life-jacket, to keep from giving in to depression." Silvia nodded to the tablet. "Look at him, Paola. He's not only so hot. He's also so damned talent, and sensitive, and smart, and funny. I'm gonna reply until he finds another hobby and forgets about me."

Paola raised her eyebrows. "As long as you don't hold your breath."

Silvia chuckled and patted her hand. "Give me some credit, girl. Maybe I learned my lesson and I can actually keep it real."

"If you say so."