Kelly felt tired and disrephasized.

She went from one set to the next. Autumn winter collection.

Green in all shades would have been the must for that year.

Colin had insisted on taking a portrait of her and she had given in. She felt alone, she had gone back many steps, she had gone back to the time when she didn't think she was worth enough and whoever stretched out her hand made her feel comforted.

So it was for Dylan, she couldn't stand the idea that he preferred Brenda to her, a provincial girl against the dance princess, he flirted and she had let him flirt, she had thought that Dylan could fill the void she felt, into which she easily slipped whenever she didn't feel enough but even Dylan could make her feel enough. The constant presence of Brenda, her ghost, the story they had had and that Kelly had admired from afar and wanted for herself so desperately that she hadn't thought twice to go for Dylan. In the end she had lost Brenda, had lost respect for herself and had also lost Dylan behind the threads of constant quarrels, jealousies, of the thought of not being enough.

She had understood that it was necessary to have a love that could make it not one that had no chance and that insisting on making it work could only take it deeper. Love is not a continuous struggle.

And her mind returned to Brandon and her sadness rose quickly.

What was he doing? Did he ever think of her? Who was in front of his eyes? Was he falling in love?

This last question made her tremble.

Colin walked in at that moment and saw Kelly sitting in front of the window with a cup of tea in her hand.

'Are you ready?' He asked her.

Kelly looked away from the window and focused on him.

She was with Colin because he seemed strong to her, she was with Colin because she couldn't stand the loneliness.

He stroked her shoulder.

He wanted to paint her. It was a wish of him, he said she was his muse. His inspiration.

Kelly nodded, she was ready.

"Well," Colin said, "because I'd like you to wear this."

Colin showed her a black naked robe.

"I think you're going to be magnificent"

Kelly was staring at her dressing gown naked. Identical to the one Finley made her wear in glass cells. In exposure to the highest bidder.

That was her value to the people she had met, a body to expose.

Kelly was staring at that dressing gown.

"I need something to cheer me up," she said.

"This stuff costs Kelly," he replied.

"My father gave me three thousand dollars the last time we saw each other, he said I could spend it the way I wanted," she replied by putting 100 bills on the coffee table.

Colin shrugged "as you wish."

Colin took the money and put it in his pocket, then opened a drawer and pulled out the cocaine. He knew it would do Kelly good, it would wipe out all modesty, maybe they would have sex. They would sleep, they would eat in bed.

XX

1941

Dylan and Brenda spent every moment together, in NewYork, as if the war was something that didn't belong to them, that didn't touch them.

They couldn't separate.

"This is my brother Brandon," he said introducing him.

Brenda smiled and at that moment Brandon understood why Dylan had been totally kidnapped by her.

A well-made body, minute, black hair, a very white smile and ceruleous eyes.

David and Steve were also introduced and all sat down together at a diner.

Shortly after, Brenda's friends also arrived.

All girls taken from their dreams and catapulted into a cruel world in a nurse's uniform.

"Dylan told me a lot about you," Brenda said.

'Seriously?' Brandon Replied.

Brenda nodded.

"I hope he didn't tell you the truth" Brandon laughed and so did Brenda.

"I told her the truth: that you still sleep with the light on, that you eat milk and cookies and that you have your favorite teddy bear Mr Bread"

Brandon laughed "thank you Dylan"

Dylan was holding her hand. She wrote small letters in the palm of her hand with a finger and Brenda had to guess the secret words he wanted to say to her, words only for the two of them. Secret words.

It was a kind of game they had invented, something that belonged only to them and no one else.

It was a beautiful evening, Dylan had not yet told Brenda about his next departure for Europe, and it was a very close departure, sooner than they expected.

He had cursed himself for agreeing to go to Europe just when his heart was so full of love for a girl.

Brandon had insisted that he tell her the truth. Brandon had always had a higher sense of discipline than Dylan had ever had.

Dylan exchanged a quick glance with Brandon, who was laughing at the guys, maybe he was right, he had to tell Brenda, how could he think of keeping such a thing hidden from her.

"We're going to Coney Island," Steve said as he held an arm around the neck of one of the girls.

Everyone was looking in the direction of Dylan and Brenda waiting for their response.

Dylan and Brenda looked at each other with understanding. They wanted to be alone for a while.

Brandon walked up to his brother's ear.

"You have to tell her the truth. I won't be home soon, take all the time you need"

Brandon and Dylan exchanged a look of understanding.

Dylan took Brenda by the hand as the whole group walked away in the opposite direction.

"You have some amazing friends" she laughed "I had so much fun"

"To be honest, David and Steve met them here"

"They are also destined for the base in Hawaii," she replied.

"What do you mean 'they too'?" Dylan asked.

Brenda gave a deep sigh.

"I'll go there in less than three weeks too"

Brenda looked down.

"The hardest thing for me is to leave you"

Brenda looked at Dylan and her eyes were wet with tears.

Brenda ran her fingers over her eyes.

"I'm a fool"

Dylan blocked her wrist and looked at her. They kissed deeply.

They parted and kissed again.

"There's one thing I have to tell you," he said.

She's gaze went out.

"I didn't tell you that in two days I have to leave for Europe, that the reason I came here is the medical examinations to join the RAF and go to war."

Brenda's gaze spoke for her.

Dylan continued to speak "when I chose to leave, when I said yes, I didn't know I was going to meet you... I don't want to leave you."

"I knew that," Brenda said.

'What?'

"I knew you had to join the RAF in a few days, I knew it from the afternoon that we met, I looked at your card and I found out the truth... and when I saw you in the evening in the middle of the street waiting for me, I could say no, but I said yes... because I felt what you felt ... and it's unreal, but what I felt you felt too. You told me that night."

Dylan smiled "yes it's true"

Brenda kept looking him in the eye

"Now what are we going to do?" He asked.

"I'll wait for you if you want me to wait," Brenda said with a fiery look, "when you have what we have, you can't turn your back on something as big as this."

"No," he said, "we can't"

Dylan and Brenda starting To kiss , it was completely natural.

"Bring me to your room," Brenda whispered.

He took her hand and together they slipped away.

XX

Brandon had just finished his piece and Tim was revising it.

"Great," said Tim, "really good"

"Thank you," Brandon said.

"Ovably the last word is up to Nicole," Tim said looking at Nicole Drummond sitting at her desk, "but I think it will be published."

Brandon also looked at Nicole. It was not known exactly what time she was arriving, in the morning Brandon found her there, and in the evening she was the last to leave.

Brandon was watching her. She didn't seem to have a home, a family. Was that what he wanted for him? He would have wanted a family. He didn't want to become an workalchoic , but being a journalist made him feel alive.

"Susan it's on you, let me see" Tim said to a girl behind Brandon.

Susan took a few steps forward. Brandon had never seen her. He kept her gaze low but couldn't help but look at her.

Tim looked at Susan's piece on the new market.

"I'd say it's a good piece too but there's room left to publish for just one of you two"

Susan and Brandon looked at each other.

Tim got up and went with both items to Nicole's office.

"Hi, I'm Brandon Walsh," Brandon introduced himself.

"Susan Keats," she replied, shaking her hand.

She was a cute girl, it was weird that Brandon hadn't noticed her before, maybe because he had totally immersed himself in the work.

Tim went back.

"Keats won"

A mischievous smile appeared on the girl's face who thanked Tim and walked away almost immediately.

Tim noticed that Brandon was looking at her.

"She's a beautiful girl," said Tim, "but I know these kinds of people very well, they would be able to pass over their mother dead body for work."

Brandon watched Susan walk away and after he was very surprised when he saw that she was waiting for him in the street.

"Brandon, right?"

"Yes," he smiled.

"I thought you wanted to have a drink, we're the only two slaves, we have something in common!"

Brandon would never have said no to a girl, and definitely not to one like Susan. He was interested. She was one who knew how to walk straight, the opposite of Kelly, who had instead made him suffer, , that made him vulnerable.

"Of course," Brandon replied.

They found a nearby bar and sat near a shop window where it was easy to see people rushing home while the two of them had all the time in the world.

They ordered food and started chatting, as they had ended up at the Boston Globe, what they would like to end up with college.

"There's also this possibility of being hired directly at the Boston Globe, that would be a good start, did Tim tell you about it?" Susan said.

Brandon nodded, "do you mean to be able to deliver a report?"

"Yes" Susan shrugged "I'd like to try"

"You have to find an informant, have the luck of the news, it's not a simple thing, we've been here for too little time."

"It's not impossible if you use the right tools."

Brandon smiled, it would have been really nice to have a secured job at the Boston Globe and if Susan was so confident, then he could have tried too. The question was where to start.

Brandon looked up and it was a blow to the heart, he saw a girl from behind, blonde, crossing the street moving away.

"Kelly.." he whispered in a low voice.

'What?' Susan asked.

"Excuse me for a moment, I think I saw someone" Brandon got up quickly and ran out. He looked for the blonde girl and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Kelly..." he said.

The girl turned around and it wasn't her.

"Sorry," Brandon said, "I mistook you for someone else"

"Too bad, I wish it was me," the girl replied, winking at him and walking away.

Brandon stood still in the middle of the road.

He had felt like he had managed to go further and instead he realized that he hadn't moved a step and that his heart hurt like when he left Kelly's house.

XX

Kelly woke up naked in Colin's bed. It was already evening.

Colin was not there. Her head was throbbing and her mouth was dry.

In the living room was Colin's painting. Kelly's margins were just hinted at. Kelly looked at her face. She was off, distant, her cheekbones were her own, but none of that painting belonged to her.

She moved her eyes down and saw the rest of the cocaine they hadn't consumed.

It was amazing how she had always scolded her mother and then Dylan for their addictions and now she couldn't be without it.

SHe drank a lot of water and looked at the way out.

The hours had passed and she had done nothing but take cocaine, get painted, then have sex and then wake up. It felt disgusting.

She looked at New York and it occurred to her Brandon that he brought her breakfast to bed, that he slipped naked next to her, that he listened to her, that he asked for her opinion, that he filled the void, that he made her laugh, that he was behind her door, that he held her hand tight, that he didn't scare her. He was never afraid of him and now she was overflowing with horror and terror.

sHe remembered sunny mornings even when the sun wasn't there, and she saw Brandon's eyes as he made love to her, as he moved inside her, as he built a secret place just for them, where there were only the two of them and the whole world outside. Kelly picked up the phone, dialed the Walsh House number.

One, two, rings.

She didn't even know why she was calling again, she knew Brandon wouldn't answer, she knew no one would answer. Colin came back with a bag in his hand.

"I got something from the Chinese," he told her, kissing her on the neck and putting a hand on her breasts. He was always so direct, so little tender, rude. One used to dominating.

For him it was all normal: painting, photographing, taking cocaine, fucking Kelly when he wanted, Kelly instead felt at a low point in her life. SHe felt she was crumbling but for now that house, with Colin, with Chinese food, was all she had.

Kelly nodded, Chinese food was fine.

She put down the phone and followed Colin.

XX

1941

Dylan closed the door behind Brenda.

They looked at each other for a few moments and then began to kiss frantically.

Tongues were sought, desired. She melted her hair, he unbuttoned her blouse and saw her white breasts inside a black lace bra. The breath of her, lifted and lowered rhythmically.

Dylan cupped her breast as she took off his sweater.

They kissed again. Dylan easily found the zipper of her skirt that slid down, along with his pants.

They lay down on the bed. Dylan easily found the bra hook that Brenda took off.

Brenda arched her back so that he could take off her briefs.

"You're wonderful," he said as he looked at her naked under him.

Dylan leaned his lips on Brenda's body. He started from her neck and went down between her breasts.

His tongue moistened and excited Brenda touching his hair.

His tongue sucked her nipples and then descended on her belly and inside her thigh.

He took the center and Brenda tried something she had never experienced in her life.

She begged him to get into her, she needed him, not having him caused her pain.

Dylan didn't let himself be prayed and quickly got inside her as Brenda's legs stretched over his shoulders.

It was intense and violent for some stretches for others it was sweet.

Her lips did the favor and began to flow through his entire body and he watched with his eyes wide open that cascade of hair that explored his body and its most intimate parts.

He was not afraid of Brenda, he was not afraid of the evil she could have done to him with a single gesture.

She straddled him and took the lead by moving with small movements and caressing him between his legs.

Dylan closed his eyes. He felt the pleasure mount and explode as Brenda ramped up the pace.

Their breaths were wheezing and Dylan had to put a hand on Brenda's mouth to try to hold back her cries of pleasure.

It seemed like they had made love every day all day. They didn't know their bodies and yet they knew how to take the direction with their eyes closed.

Brenda reached orgasm, Dylan held back, it was too early.

This wasn't like the girls he had been with. Those sad girls who sold sex and he didn't even look in the face. He would turn them on their back, do what he had to do, just like Brandon, they didn't know anything about those girls and they didn't want to know anything.

But that night he would keep his eyes open on Brenda all night, he wanted nothing more than to see her moon skin, the breasts bouncing under his blows, her mouth moving along the body, he just wanted to be with her.

"Turn around" he told her.

He took her from behind. He saw that white back bend with pleasure. Brenda got up and their lips continued to desperately want each other. Having her that way was even better.

They couldn't stop making love, they couldn't get satiated with each other.

How would he do in the following days when he left for Europe? How could he cope with death if he was now so attached to life?

This thought made him want to cry as Brenda rested in his arms.

He took her hand, and with his finger he wrote her what he had wanted to write for a long time, in their afternoons together.

Brenda followed the imaginary line that Dylan's finger wrote on the palm of her hand.

I

L

O

V

E

Y

O

U

Brenda turned around and saw his eyes staring at her.

Inexplicably they both cried.

"I love you," she told him.

He kissed her, Brandon wouldn't come back, he promised him, he would sleep on the street even if it was necessary.

They had all night for the two of them, the last night.

The last endless night.

XX

Jamie noticed Dylan's tears. He had stopped telling what he saw and witnessed every gesture with emotion. That tenderness moved him. That love moved him.

The lack of Brenda broke him.

Antonia was even able to feel the vibrations, they scared her, they attracted her.

The tear came down from Dylan's cheek, for everything, for himself, for the child he had been, for what he had done, for Brenda, for that love that illuminated every part of him and that had been so in every era in which it had lived and survived.