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I blinked, trying to rid myself of the darkness that sometimes comes after flashes.
Once I was seeing all right, I stared into the face of the person who had taken the picture of me.
"Excuse me, do I know you?" I asked, feeling confused. Maybe twelve or fourteen years ago I was used to this, but definitely not any more. I may still appear in the news every once in a while, but it's not as bad as it used to be.
The owner of the camera was a thirty-something year old woman. She appeared slightly embarrassed. She was rather short, with thick, brown hair full of small curls and very plain brown eyes.
"Hello, Nick." she said, playing with one of the brown curls. She shoved a microphone right in front of my face, which I wasn't expecting. "Are the rumours true, Nick? Is your second son dying?"
"No comment." I said, in my straightest possible face, holding Michael's hand tightly. I knelt down to him and whispered: "Don't say anything, okay, Mike? It'll be our little game."
Mike eagerly nodded. "I love games-" then he realized he was talking, which he had just agreed not to do, and closed his mouth, clapping his hand over it, then giggled.
"Are you on a family outing?" she asked
"No comment."
The reporter directed her attention to Mike, realizing at once that she was not going to get a word from me.
"Hey, Michael, can I ask you a question?" she asked with false softness, in dark contrast with the sharpness she was exhibiting just moments before. She knelt down to be at the same level than him.
Mike nodded, looking up at me uncertainly.
"Is your big brother sick? Is Joshua dying?" she asked, putting an arm around Mike. I saw her grab Michael's small arm, as if threatening to hurt him if he didn't respond.
Mike, as I'd asked him, said nothing.
In any case, I saw it was the moment to intervene. "Hey!" I pushed her away from my son. "Leave us alone and if you ever touch my son again I swear I'll sue you." I was maintaining my calmness quite surprisingly, because I knew from experience that whenever I raised my voice it all just got worse.
The woman hesitated, then walked away. "Excuse me for trying to clear the rumours." she said under her breath. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to make ME feel bad for what SHE wanted to do and I wouldn't let her.
"Hey, Mikey, you were great, I'm going to have to buy you a prize." I said.
Mike didn't say anything.
"Don't worry, Artist, the game's over now." I reassured him, then pulled him close to me into a tight hug. "Some people are like that, you just have to learn to ignore them, okay, baby?"
"Is Joshie really dying?" he asked under his breath. He certainly looked confused and worried over this.
"Honey, I thought you knew. Josh is going to be just fine, and everything will go right back to what it used to be."
Then I wondered to myself if this last sentence was really true. Was life really going to ever go back to what it used to be?