Frida woke up, she was confused, very confused.
She tried to remember what had happened last night.
Then she remembered: Benny. They had sex.
"Why did I do this! I don't even know him! He does not love you, Frida! He's just one of those men who just want to fuck with a powerful and rich woman!" Frida said between sobs, crying.
Why? Why? Why? Why had she done this?
Maybe she loved him, but men were used to using her. Men infatuated her, deluded her of a love that did not exist. They used to have fun, like a bouncy doll, playing with her feelings.
Frida could not love men, Frida could not love Benny. Frida could not love.
She whirled to the other side of the bed, if she had done anything with Benny, he had to be there.
Empty, there was no one to Frida's right.
On the nightstand she saw a note.
"I have to go. Have a good day.
B.A."
"Little bastard" Frida murmured.
She had to work today, Frida was the owner of a film agency, one of the most important in the world.
She loved her job, but it was difficult and heavy, many actors, workhorses of the agency, were firing for age, family problems, maternity, or simply wanted a break, and finding actors and film directors worthy of her agency was difficult, very difficult.
She did her morning routine, put on her makeup as usual: brown eyeshadow, eyeliner, powder and lipstick, red of course.
She wore a little gray dress and a jacket of the same color, black heels and gold accessories
She did her hair and went to work.
Once she got to the office, her employees stopped to look at her without saying a word and as still as mummies, as always. They gave her space in the corridor and she made her way to her office where her secretary Peter joined her.
"Hello Miss Lyngstad, today is particularly busy"
"Go ahead," Frid said, sipping the coffee she had just brewed.
"You have about 35 admissions applications, 3 layoffs, 4 film applications, 78 scripts to evaluate"
Frida sighed.
"Thank you so much, Peter. You can go".
"Excuse me" Peter said and left the room.
While she drank her coffee, she put on her glasses and started reading the titles of some script.
"This is shit" she said quite loudly.
She was angry, Benny shouldn't have left her like this, with a note. But what did it matter to her after all? Nothing. They weren't together. They just enjoyed a good fuck. Still, thinking about that night with Benny, made her giggle.
She liked nothing of what she had read. They were the usual musical, sleazy love stories with a tragic ending, the classic action movie with the handsome and muscular superhero and the ugly enemy that he looked like a worm. The usual crime film of a murder on the train.
"ALL THIS IS SHIT!" she said, this time screaming.
Peter, scared, burst into the office.
"W-w-what happens m-miss Ly-Lyngstad?"
"You brought me 78 scripts, Peter" Frida said threateningly "and 65 of them are shit".
Peter was shaking like a leaf.
"YOU HAVE THE TASK OF CHECKING WHAT YOU BRING ME, PETER. I SHOULD ONLY ACCEPT THEM"
"S-s-sorry m-miss I-"
"YOU ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. OUT OF MY OFFICE. OUT!" Frida yelled.
She was so angry. Peter had only one task, indeed two. Tell her the to-dos of the day and filter out what came to her office.
She shouldn't have been the one to discard the bad scripts.
Frida threw the papers on the floor, slammed her hands on the desk and ran a hand through her hair in frustration.
Why was it happening to her?
Damn you, Andersson! she said to herself
Why do I need you? Benny!?
