It was in Rio. The heat, the beach, flying flowers and sexy boys and the sunshine just everywhere, I almost forgot that my feet were still land on this earth. This is so heaven and then Jackie called, so I had to tell him that we were in Rio, and that Miele has a show to be seen. Mr Carlos Miele might be the most traditional Brazilian man, warm smile, full of passion and caring, those Jackie didnt know, but one thing we both know, Carlos has insanely sexy designs.... Dont even try to imagine it... its not burning-sunlight hot, more like a harm-to-skin super hot.
" I spot some male models this year." This sentence through the 3G phone, across the Atlantic Ocean, set Jackie up to ready that is so fast you could hear the door slamming while hanging the phone.
As soon as Jackie got in Rio's 5ive star hotel, he dived into the "sea of love". He enjoys all the "Brasil traditions", looked utter white under the sun but everyone gets that he is british. So when the show began, he was, according to my statement, no where to be found. I thought I'd stop by to say hi to Carlos in case that he thought I was lost "en route" again. I walked through a white silk tent built by a few bed sheets and there was Carlos, adjusting a guy's pants because he's literally half naked. Ever since the Dolce backstage incident, I banned myself from drooling over hulk dudes, so I raised my champagne glass ( which,oddly,is very huge, like a superbowl.) up right against my face, that way I could only see Carlos and some pieces of that model hottie. I must had an impressive progress on my awful brazilian language cos that male model kept laugh-alone when I was trying to tell a serious boring joke, you know, like Jackie slammed his head against the table trying to find a new way of committing suicide. I talked to Carlos like about 3 mins and thanks to the hulkie hottie, my full freezed Dom Perignon went straight to boiled mineral water.
So this was what happened after the show, Jackie showed up, right on time, I grabbed him and was like: "OMG, You wont believe who I've just met!"
"Oh dear God let me guess....Barack Obama! Where is he, What have you done!" Jackie almost jumped on my face.
" Yes. The new president would really love to know what kind of fabric that Brazilian fashion designers are going to use as the middle east peace map, you drunkula!" I took away Jackie's umbrella drinks.
"Okay then. Miss I-made-the-best-fun-of-you, tell me who he is."
I suddenly realized that I didnt even know his name, he, that hot male model is a stranger, but,
" Mr. X! I call him Mr.X. He is so hot, you will never wanna leave this place if you've met him."
Jackie looked at me... his expression went drunken to disappointment and then went to "what is that? A new fashion magazine? "
"GO AWAY." I should've known this was going to happen, those vanity gays would laugh at me any chance they get. Jackie danced to those beach boys and I turned back and hit a wall...No, that was not a wall, its Mr.X's body, that still half naked body.
"I'm sorry"
"That's alright. Hey you are that girl from the show, hey my name is..."
"NO! Don't Say It! Do Not Say it!" I crazed " I have a name for you. You are Mr.X!"
The guy must thought I was dumped or broke or something.
"So could I call you Miss. X?" He smiled and maybe even a lit bit frightened by me.
"No Mrs.X. I am married....Wait, that's still not right... Hahahaha...."
Then I was sure that I was so drunk, Mr X was probably trying to keep me stay the balance and there was Jackie back from the beach house, moaning twistedly "Mr...X??" and then He passed out.
The other day, like nothing had ever happened, Jackie and I went to the airport, accidently met Deah whose father owns like half of the south America, He pulled off a jet for us just like that. We went boarding with all the air kissing,date promising, and then just when I thought I could finally have my sleep back, my cellphone "automatically" screamed.
"Who is this?"
"Hey. This is Mr.X. You gave your No. to me last night......"
