“You need to come home, you can’t keep being stubborn.” That was the hundredth message my mother had sent me, in capital letters and with several exclamation points. She had been more desperate and insistent since I turned 27, as if something huge was going to happen in our lives. I felt enormous pressure and guilt, not understanding the reason for such demands.

I rolled my eyes and put my phone aside, trying to concentrate on my work. The hotel was crowded with new guests, arriving with luggage, costumes, and confetti, worried about their carnival reservations. I had to help some of them even using my own phone to access information, while hearing the sound of music and fireworks outside. I couldn’t waste my time with my mother’s nonsense; she had been sending me messages every five minutes, pressuring me to return home.

I always thought she was a little eccentric, but lately Mom had been out of control. She was terrified of something she’d heard from my grandfather, an old and mysterious story he told with a trembling voice and frightened eyes. I was already beginning to suspect it was time to send them both to a nursing home, where they could receive proper care and get rid of these fantasies.

Regina needed psychological help, but she refused to listen to anyone who tried to contradict her. She lived in a world of illusions, where everything was perfect, and no one could question her. She isolated herself more and more, avoiding contact with reality. She was also easily irritated, reacting with aggression and arrogance to any criticism or advice. Mom needed urgent treatment, but she didn’t admit she had a problem.

“Diana! Can you help me here?” The hotel manager called me, pointing to a line of impatient people. I sighed. I glanced again at the phone screen, which lit up with my mom’s hundred and first message.

“He was here and he’s coming for you. I warned you.”

Wonderful! Now she was delirious and projecting her hallucinations. I ignored the message and turned to the gentleman in front of me.

“I made the reservations six months ago,” he complained in English with a Texan accent. I sighed again.

“I’m so sorry, sir, but there seems to have been a system error. We don’t have your reservation registered,” I said, looking at the computer.

“What do you mean, you don’t have my reservation? I paid in advance, I have the receipt, I want my room now!” He shouted, banging on the counter.

“Please, sir, calm down. We will sort this out. Maybe there was a name swap or a communication problem. Let me see your receipt,” I asked, trying to stay calm.

He handed me a crumpled paper with his name, reservation date, room number, and amount paid. I let out a frustrated sigh; after all, he actually had a receipt. I checked the data with the system, but I couldn’t find anything. It was as if the reservation never existed, and it was going to cause the biggest scandal.

“I don’t understand, sir. This has never happened before. A huge mistake really happened. I’m going to call my supervisor and see what we can do,” I said, picking up the phone.

“Mistake? Mistake is what you are doing to me! I want my room or I want my money back. I can't believe I'm going to have to get a lawyer! That's absurd!” He continued to rant, attracting the attention of everyone in the lobby.

I tried to ignore his insults and called my supervisor, explaining the situation. He said he’d be right over and told me to keep trying to calm the client down.

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, preparing to face the gentleman again.

“Can’t you get him a room?” Said a guy next to me, and only then did I notice his presence there, hunched over my counter with a tired expression.

He was a huge man, with broad shoulders, strong arms, and long legs. He had black hair, blue eyes, and a face as handsome as a Greek God. His nose was straight, his mouth full, and a well-defined square jaw.

He was wearing a white T-shirt and simple jeans that showed off his entire body. He was carrying a backpack on his back and a camera around his neck. A typical tourist.

He looked at me with curiosity and sympathy, as if he wanted to help me.

“Unfortunately not,” I explained. “The rooms are all booked. Do you have a reservation?”

“I don't think so,” he said, leaning further over the counter to try to look at my computer screen. “Look it up, Christophe Kiermaier.”

I typed his name into the system, but I found nothing. He didn't have a reservation either. I sighed again, feeling my patience wearing thin.

“Sorry, sir, but it looks like you don't have a reservation either. The hotel is full due to carnival. Perhaps you can try another hotel in the area,” I suggested, trying to be polite.

“This hotel sucks! Nobody has reservations?!” The gentleman yelled again, slamming his fist on the counter, very irritated and impatient.

“I already knew that, I’m not here to stay. I came to collect something that belongs to me,” Christophe said with a mysterious smile on his lips. He looked at me curiously, and his sentence made me frown.

“Let me handle it, Di. Go have lunch,” said my supervisor, putting his hand on my shoulder after showing up to save my day. Mr. Silva was one of the best bosses anyone could ask for, and I wanted to hug him a thousand times for getting me out of that mess.

“Thank you very much! I hope you can solve your problems,” I said to the two gentlemen without rooms, and ran to my break. I needed some time to relax and forget about this chaotic day.

“Bye, Di!” I still heard the huge man’s voice, but I didn’t look at him. I felt a shiver down my spine when he said my nickname and it intrigued me.

I left the hotel at two in the afternoon, after a long, extremely hectic eight-hour shift. At least it was all over. I thought about taking the crowded and noisy bus to my house, which was in a humble and distant neighborhood. However, it was Carnival and I wasn't going home just when the bars in town were hopping.

I decided to go to the old center of Sao Paulo and have some fun. I deserved a break after so much work.

I walked through the streets full of people, music, and colors. A group of people wearing bee costumes passed me and I laughed as they circled around two street vendors. I felt the atmosphere of joy and celebration. I let myself be carried away by the rhythm and the energy.

"Where are you?" I texted my friend, knowing she was in the middle of that crowd.

"Girl, I just arrived. I just got off the Sao Bento subway."

"Stay there! I'm close by."

I ran towards the subway station, dodging people and cars. I was looking forward to meeting her and enjoying Carnival. I hadn't seen her for months, ever since she moved to the east side of town. I missed her and our adventures dearly, but we were both always working and never had time to see each other.

I got to the subway and looked for her in the crowd. I saw her waving at me, with a smile on her face and a bunch of chocolate bars she had bought from the vendor at the station door.

She looked beautiful, wearing a fairy costume. She had sparkling wings, a flower tiara, and a short green dress.

Brenda hugged me tight and kissed my face.

"Girl, I missed you so much! You look great!" she exclaimed.

"You too! What a beautiful costume!" I praised.

"Thank you! I made it especially for Carnival. And you, what costume is this?" she asked, looking at my clothes.

"Oh, I didn't have time to dress up. I came straight from work. So I'm a hotel receptionist," I explained, with a hint of irony.

"I loved it! What matters is having fun. Come on, there's a bloco going by. Let's follow it!" Brenda pulled my hand and took me into the middle of the party.

I let myself be carried away by my friend and the bloco. Pedro Sampaio was the artist who played the most, I heard the crowd shout his name several times and even shouted along at some point.

We bought many beers and a bunch of people passed by throwing confetti on everyone as we jumped wildly.

"Woman, my foot hurts. But I'm not sitting on this filthy floor even if it kills me." Brenda complained and we laughed, smelling the strong smell of urine that permeated the city.

"What time does the bloco end?" I asked, looking at my watch.

"I saw on the internet that it goes until 6 pm," she replied, excited.

"So we still have plenty of time. Let's make the most of it!."

"Yes! Let's enjoy Carnival as if there were no tomorrow!" Brenda agreed enthusiastically.

We followed the bloco through the streets, mingling with the other people. We saw costumes of all kinds: superheroes, princesses, animals, movie and series characters. We took pictures, made friends, exchanged kisses. We felt part of the party, the city, the world. For the fourth time I saw the group of bees pass by us and smiled with them again.

Suddenly, someone started yelling something and everyone cheered, I raised my arms to join in and hit a man's face as he passed.

"Oh, my God! Sorry!" I apologized, startled.

"No problem, Di," he said and I turned to see who had recognized me. It was the giant man I had seen at the hotel reception earlier. He was dressed as a police officer and had a mysterious smile on his face. "Remember me?"

"Of course, you're the... sorry, what's your name again?" I said awkwardly.

"Christophe," he revealed, extending his hand to me. I shook it, nervous. He had a big, strong hand. He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear:

"I need to talk to you. It's urgent."

"Talk to me? About what?" I asked, confused. At that moment, the group dressed as bees came back and surrounded us, preventing Christophe from answering me. I laughed at the situation and saw Brenda appear out of nowhere, dragging me away from the confusion.

"Come on, Di, let's follow the bloco."

"I wonder what that guy wanted with me," I asked, intrigued.

"I don't know, but did you see the way he looked at you? It was like he wanted to eat you alive," Brenda said, making a face.

"God forbid. Did you see the size of him?"

"Girl, if it's proportional you'd better run from the Eiffel Tower. Let's enjoy the Carnival, friend. Forget that guy," Brenda laughed at her own joke, taking me with her.

"Okay. Let's have some fun."

We went back to following the bloco, trying to forget about the mysterious man who had crossed our path. We joined the crowd, dancing, singing and jumping to enjoy the rest of the day before they cleaned up the street.

6 pm came quickly and I accompanied Brenda to the subway. We said goodbye there, as each of us would go to a different side of the city.

The apartment where I lived was small and simple, but it was my home. It had some old furniture, plants and lots of pictures on the wall.

I went in and went straight to the bathroom to wash off the smell of Carnival. I took a warm and relaxing bath, trying to wash away the stress of work too. I felt the water run down my body, taking away the dirt, the tiredness and the worries. When I finished, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and went to my room.

I changed into some comfortable clothes: a loose T-shirt and shorts. I lay down on the bed, with my soft sheets and fluffy pillows.

I picked up my cell phone and saw that I had a text message. Another huge text from my mother begging me to come see her before it was too late. She said she was sick and needed me. At least this time she had given me an excuse to believe.

"Love you too, Mom. Good night."

I decided not to argue or delve into arguments with my mother, so I just sent her a loving message even though I knew she would turn it into a huge storm in a teacup.

I woke up in a panic in the middle of the night, my heart pounding in my chest. I had just had one of those terrible nightmares where I was falling off a cliff, with nothing to hold onto. And to make matters worse, there was a huge animal, similar to a wolf, that jumped with me, snarling and baring its teeth, as if it wanted to devour me in the air. I woke up before hitting the ground, but the fear still lingered throughout my body. Sweat trickled down my face, neck, and back. My body trembled, as if I was still falling. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I looked to the side and saw that the bed was empty, but that was common, as I had been living alone for five years since I moved to Sao Paulo.

The room was engulfed in darkness, only illuminated by the faint moonlight streaming in through the window. My eyes took a while to adjust to the lack of light and for a moment, I thought there was someone in the room with me. I saw a large shadow near the door, resembling a tall, strong man. A shiver ran down my spine and I shrunk back in bed, afraid that it was an intruder or a ghost. Many people are afraid of cockroaches; I am afraid of spirits.

I rubbed my eyes and looked back at the corner, realizing it was just my wardrobe slightly ajar. I let out a sigh of relief and lay back down, trying to go back to sleep. But I knew it would be difficult after the nightmare I had.

After much struggle, I managed to fall asleep again and this time I had a completely erotic dream. I couldn't see the man's face but his physique was very similar to that of Christophe, and I realized I was too impressed with the guy to the point of imagining him in that way.

Morning came like a bullet, so fast that it made me groan when my phone alarm went off at 3:20 am. I had to go to work because the hotel would already be chaotic by 6 am. I didn't waste any time and pushed the covers aside. The subway started running at 4:40 am, and I should already be on the first one if I wanted to arrive on time.

I hurriedly got ready, not paying much attention to my appearance. I put on my uniform, grabbed my bag and my ID badge, and left the apartment.

"Good morning, Seu Geraldo," I greeted the doorman who opened the small window of the lobby to greet me.

"Good morning, dear. Heading into battle already?" I nodded and he raised his glass coffee cup in offering.

"Thank you! But I'll eat at work, I woke up feeling really lazy today."

"You need to take a vacation, girl. You're too young to work like this. Hey! Seu Pedro! Take the girl to the station. It's still dark out there."

Geraldo shouted to the building's janitor who was washing the sidewalk and he searched his pockets for the car keys.

"Let's go, girl. Finish washing up here, Geraldo," Mr. Pedro said, and I ran towards him, grateful for the ride.

Seu Pedro dropped me off at the station and I thanked him the whole way, even though he said he was just going to buy bread nearby and it was no trouble to give me a ride. I left him at the bakery across from Penha subway station and walked to my destination, trying to ignore the cold and dirt of the city.

I got on the crowded subway and squeezed in with the other commuters heading to work. I already knew it was going to be a bad day.

When the subway passed between Belem and Bresser Mooca stations, I felt a cold breeze on my ear and jumped in shock.

"How do you guys stand being in these sardine cans? I'm suffocating in here," the voice was familiar and I placed my hand on my chest, startled to see him there. It was him, the giant man I had seen for the third time. "Seriously, this is inhuman."

"My God! Where did you come from?" I asked, indignant at his sudden appearance.

"What do you mean? I was already in this car before you got in," he replied, and I furrowed my brow.

"Sao Paulo is huge, it's not possible that this is the third time we've bumped into each other by coincidence."

"I didn't say it was a coincidence." I said it was already here. But it's easy to find you in the midst of the crowd. I recognize your sweet scent. "he whispered, with a mischievous smile."

"Next Station Se" announced the subway's automatic voice and I hurried to get off the train. I made my way through the other people, who were also heading towards the exit.

The doors opened and a crowd of people descended from the cars. The electronic voice warned to mind the gap between the train and the platform, but I couldn't see the floor. It was too crowded and I almost fell into the gap, luckily someone held me by the waist. I looked back and saw a pair of huge hands pulling me up.

He stood me upright against the wall of the escalator and his arm leaned next to my face.

"I understand why they chose you. You don't know how to take care of yourself" he whispered. Some people passed by looking at us while others were too late to care.

"You're weird."

"And you didn't have breakfast." My stomach responded before I could speak and he smirked.

"Look, Christiano or whatever your name is. Don't follow me, okay? We're in a huge city and doing these things is very suspicious. I have a stun gun in my backpack and I'm not afraid to use it." I touched his arm to lower it, but the boy kept it firm. His lips approached my ears and he whispered.

"Christophe, Di. Don't pretend you don't know my name. In my dreams, you moan it constantly."

A shiver ran up my neck, every muscle in my body paralyzed with those words and everything around me spun. I tried to stand firm, opened my hand in a fan shape and when I thought about hitting his face, Christophe was no longer there.

I blinked a few times as people walked past me and was startled again when my phone rang. I screamed and put my hand in the small pocket where I kept the device. I saw Mr. Silva's call and when I realized it was 5:30, I didn't even answer, I just ran away.