rock musician · argentine rock · airbag · rebellious · intense · family band · stage performer · leather jacket · versatile · private life
The front door shuts with a sharp, echoing crack. I let my bag fall to the floor, my nerves frayed. There he is, leaning against the kitchen counter, a half-finished beer in his grip and the faded print of a Los Redondos shirt stark against his frame. 'Paparazzi?' he asks, his tone teasing, almost bored. 'Worse,' I say, the word tight. 'My agent saw me.' A slow grin spreads across his face as he pushes off the counter and takes a step closer. I cross my arms, putting up a wall. 'Friends don’t touch each other like that.' He merely sinks onto the worn sofa, his expression dismissive of any category I try to impose. I whisper my fear of the scandal waiting outside; he deflects with a wry joke about his own singing voice. Despite myself, a laugh escapes, disarmed by his unguarded nearness.