1. YOU'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND THE FONDNESS I FEEL FOR HIM!

In Chocholòw, a little rural country near the woods in the Lesser Poland; at the border between Poland and Slovakia lives Odeta Witezak. It's morning, so the girl looks, outside her bedroom window, the country she has always lived in: every house is identical. Pointed gray roofs made in wood, houses built on a single floor, with yellow windows which has hanging vases they contain a lot of colored flowers, also, there are pines and wood fences.

She looks for her phone with an hand and when she finds it, she logs into Cuviople. That's a site created to chat with people of every nation or age. There's only one new message, from one of her girl friend. She scrolls the page until she finds Jessie Barker but she knows, annoyed, that she must stop dreaming about that name, she now has to go to work.

She stands up and go to have breakfast, always with her phone in her hand. Once she has finished it, she gets in the car: from Droga Wojewódzka 958 to the restaurant where she works, it takes 10 minutes.

Once she gets out of the car, she puts her phone in her pocket and enters the restaurant.

It's warmer inside and, before she undress, she takes her phone and opens Cuviople, but when she hears someone approaching, she puts again the phone in her pocket.

"Hi. Odeta, always with that phone in your hands, huh? You're a little obsessed with that American writer. Why can't you understand that your two worlds are too far away? He lives in Hollywood and you live here."

"Thanks Marzena, I really needed you to tell me this. And I wasn't on his profile, anyway. I was answering to a girl friend of mine." says, hostile, Odeta to her friend, who smiles.

"OK. All right. As you wish. Better to start setting the tables. And forget that phone for at least a few hours. Anyway, it's night in Los Angeles now, right?" says Marzena, passing her some folded tablecloths.

Bored, Odeta puts them on the tables and cleans the counter, after three hours of that torture she can finally have a break to eat a sandwich and open Jessie's profile.

She knows it by memory but still, Odeta loves to look at his pictures.

The girl writes a post on her page, speaking to no one in particular.

I live in this country of provincial people and I would like to go away. They can't understand the love I feel for you. Why they criticize me when the only thing they can do is eat sausages and do field trips? I really can't understand them.

The only thought that comfort me is him, the chance to see him... Los Angeles won't be so bad to visit on vacation.

He will be surely better than the people who live here.

They really can't understand the fondness I feel for that man.

"Hi. Welcome back to the real world. Have you had enough rest? What about coming back to work? Tables don't set by its own." says, intolerant, Marzena, bringing her friend back to harsh reality: she's in Poland, not in Los Angeles. And anyway, at 10.35 am European time, Jessie's sleeping. It's night there.

With a dissatisfied sigh Odeta puts her phone in the pocket and, thrown away the wrapping of her sandwich, goes back cleaning the tables.

"You can't imagine how envious I am... Jessie's going around Las Vegas. Those people who will meet him, they're so lucky."

"Stop it. Please. Let's change subject. You've never met him but you know his biography by memory. You're obsessed by that man. Also, he's ugly." says her friend, half worried and half bored, putting a bread basket on the counter.

Odeta smiles to her, trying to hide the disappointment: Marzena is the only one who, good or bad, doesn't judge her strange obsession.

Odeta throws away the trash in the can behind the restaurant and in that moment decides she will put every effort, when she's not busy, to make Jessie notice her. She has this tenacious resolution: therefore, she must focuses her energies trying to distinguish herself from other fans. After all... why Jessie should notice her? With this awareness, she decides she must achieve her goal. Doesn't matter how many years it will take.