Aiden arrives at nine o'clock, his timing so precise he must have been waiting by the door. I've already showered and put my best clothes on—which basically means the cleanest ones, because there's not much variety in my wardrobe. Everything I receive from them falls into the typical high-school fashion category. At least I put sweatpants on, and not jeans—less restricting. Getting dressed and ready for sex feels weird, and kind of reduces the excitement that I felt back in the classroom. I hope there'll be some spontaneity tonight, because this feels a bit too planned. On the other hand, maybe it's just me trying to find excuses to call it off. I'm feeling all mixed up about this.

Aiden steps into the room with the familiar black goggles in his hands.

"Oh," I say, eyeing them. "We're going outside? Where to?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you." He hands me the goggles. "Put these on."

As before, he leads me through the long corridors, holding my hand. Despite seeing nothing, we walk faster now, because I trust him more. Like the last time, after just a few turns I can no longer tell the direction. I bet he's leading me to his room—and then where? That fourth wall, it opens to pretty much any place he wants. If I had to guess, I'd say he'd probably take me to a fancy hotel room or something like that.

"You can take them off," he says, letting go of my hand.

I remove the goggles and, as expected, we're in his living room, all white and nondescript. Aiden walks to the code lock and I follow him. I watch him punch in a few numbers, and then hit a long, unmarked button, like the space bar on the keyboard.

The fourth wall transforms again, showing what could be a part of an expensive hotel suite. It's clear a designer worked on it, for everything feels very thought-through and intentional, with red elements tying the look together. There are red panels on the walls, red cushions on the white leather sofas. Even the art pieces hanging on the wall, mostly of bored-looking women dressed in 1920th fashion, Art Deco style, boast suspiciously many red elements. The designer must have had a thing for red, or maybe whoever had requested the design did.

Aiden takes my hand. Without being told, I close my eyes and follow him.

A faint smell of vanilla touches my nostrils. When I open my eyes, the glaring white lights of Aiden's room are replaced by a cozier glow coming from a glittering chandelier on the ceiling. I look behind us and find a large, antique-looking mirror with a gilded frame. It reflects the two of us, looking utterly out of place in our casual clothes against the voluptuous backdrop of the fancy apartment.

"Nice," I say. "Where are we?"

"Try to guess," says Aiden.

"How? I've never been here before."

He shrugs, refusing to give me any clues, and so I just look around. It still seems like a posh hotel suite, or maybe someone's fancy apartment. There are no windows to give me hints as to where we are. I turn around and find a decorated stand that I haven't noticed before, with items displayed on transparent shelves, figurines and framed photos. As I come closer, the shape of one of the objects draws my attention—a gilded statuette of a man.

"It's not an Oscar, right?" I say, peering closer, my nose almost touching the glass. "I mean, not a real one?"

"It is a real one," Aiden says behind me, and I turn to him in shock. "He won it last year, for his role in Thorny Summer."

"He?" I say, and then the name of the movie clicks. "What? I saw that! You mean... Barry? Is this Barry Becker's apartment?" I whirl back to the stand, finally focusing on the photos—and yes, it's him, smiling from every single one of them. Most are from red carpet events, depicting him in the company of other celebrities. Among the photos, other awards are displayed, some of which I don't recognize. On the middle shelf, I notice three Golden Raspberry Awards—the ones they give for the worst movies.

"What?" I gasp. "They gave him razzies? How dare they... he's such a good actor!"

"He got three, and he was bold enough to accept them in person," Aiden says. "Anyway, I bet the Oscar took the edge off his disappointment."

"Wait," I say, turning around, taking in the room that gets a whole new depth and meaning to me now that I know who it belongs to. "So, it's Barry's apartment?"

"Mansion," he says. "The place is huge. This is just one room."

"But..." I stop, struck by an idea. "He's not here, right?"

"No."

I eye him with mistrust. "Are you sure? When Liz showed up early, you were surprised."

"He's hosting a live show tonight. Won't be here until two, three in the morning."

"But servants? Surely there have got to be servants in a place like this."

"Not at night." Aiden smiles, clearly amused by my reactions. "The cook and the cleaners arrive in the morning, but for a few hours, the place is ours."

"Oh my God," I whisper, turning around. "Oh my God, oh my God—can I go to the other rooms? Can I look around? I can't believe I get to see how he lives!"

"Of course. Feel free to walk around."

"But... there must be cameras, no? They'll find out we've been here."

"Outside, yes, but none inside the house." He chuckles. "It's good to see you thrilled like this. Go for it. Have fun."

"I will," I squeak, unable to contain my excitement. Barry Becker has been my idol, as well as my imaginary friend, for so long that it's hard to grasp that I get a chance to have a glimpse of his real life. I'm not going to touch or take anything away, although I could totally use a souvenir, but that would be mean of me, stealing from him after all the joy his movies brought me. I'll just look around and see what he surrounds himself with, get a glimpse into his life that no other fan has ever had.

I run to Aiden and squeeze him in a brief hug, unable to contain my excitement. He laughs, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. At the back of my mind, a shadow of a thought passes, that perhaps he's disappointed, having brought me here with a different activity in mind. Yet the way he smiles hints that he might be enjoying this as much as I do.

"Go ahead, fanboy," he says. "Explore."

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