feeling a sense of satisfaction when a native celebrity returns from promoting their work abroad because they’re h o m e.
Traveling back to California in his place, across country, after our last stadium show, Frank didn’t want to sleep. It was late at night. He thought everyone else was asleep. I watched him. He went to the back of the plane and quietly retrieved the snack food from the galley. He got down on his hands and knees and surreptitiously stuffed everyone’s shoes with popcorn, peanuts, jelly beans, gumdrops, crackers, and nuts.
Frank Sinatra, my friend, legend, and glorious survivor, would do anything to have some fun.”
the brothers having their first stand-off against freddie in a backstreet boulangerie, surrounded by snapped baguettes and broken tarts, a pair of stolen mopeds abandoned in the tiny cobbled alley outside.
richie approaching kate in the jardin du luxembourg, settling himself into one of the low green chairs next to hers, striking his match against the cold stone of a fountain’s base.
santanico luring men in as the star attraction of the moulin rouge, draped in strips of fur and strings of pearls.
carlos running an undercover brothel in the depths of montmartre, selling girls’ bodies and buying men’s lust.
freddie chasing the brothers through the heart of the city, skidding across the marble floors of the louvre, thundering through the darkened catacombs and labyrinthine cemeteries, trailing the sparks that fly from their hot feet as they trace the arago medallions in their relentless pursuit of el rey.