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to stay at the company, to transfer me to São Paulo, promising that I would be the anchor of the most successful program at the station. I just had to wait for Augusto Jonas to

my complete indifference, while I looked for another clean pussy to fuck. I'm thirty-seven years old, and I've never had a relationship that lasted more than two weeks. My oldest relationship was a completely platonic friendship with a woman I met on the beach two years ago, who wasn't as pretty as the women I dated, nor was she rich, nor interesting, nor anything. Bia was just Bia. With simple looks and kind words. We exchanged daily emails, because we both had no one else to vent to. She was going to marry a jerk who treated her like trash, while she desperately tried to survive in Curitiba. And I talked about my profession, and about my future plans to become a presenter. "So what? If I had a steady girlfriend, would it change everyone's perception of me hosting the show?" "Of course, Levi," Bruna nodded. - A survey was conducted suggesting your name to take Augusto's place, and you were rejected because of your fame. But... If you changed... maybe... Change... There was no way I could change. I didn't believe in love. I would never get married, nor would I have children. - I'm going to get a girlfriend... - Getting a girlfriend isn't that simple - Bruna pointed out. - You need to introduce yourself publicly with someone you truly have an affinity with. People need to believe that you are capable of loving and being loved. - That doesn't exist! - I exclaim, as I stand up and walk around her office. - It needs to be more than a one-week relationship - she continued to put obstacles in my way. - People aren't stupid. In the past, there were many fake relationships that really confused people, but with the advancement of social media, people are more attentive to details. - Where am I going to find this woman? It wasn't hard to find a woman willing to pretend to be my partner, but someone who could really convince people that we were in love and in complicity...? Someone who really knew me...? Someone I could spend my days with without getting stressed or fed up with the other person's presence...? Suddenly, my phone buzzes. I stare at the screen. Beatriz sent me an email. It wasn't her usual time to write, and I was worried that something had ha