Misha 's my soul mate. I wish I had been with her since she was born, but my own affairs and plans were too distracting, so the first time I saw Misha was when she was ten. She was such an adorable little girl! But after a couple of months, I had to leave. Because of Mariszka. She was always lecturing me that I could have a bad influence on little Misha 's unformed character. I remember with what a painful smile I left the house. I forgave Mariszka. But I haven't forgotten how deeply she insulted me by kicking me out of my parents' house, chasing me away from Misha, whom I love more than all my brothers and sisters put together. Fortunately, she is now in Fredrik's good caring hands. Soon I'll meet them.
I'll meet them all. For the first time in nine years. But my first destination is Oslo. Filming. Entertainment.
Naughty, naughty Maria. And yet, being bad seems to be my calling. To break the hearts and destinies of mortals. Magnificent.
***
My plane landed at Gardermoen, Oslo's large international airport, at nine forty-five in the evening. I had timed my connecting flights perfectly so that I could arrive in the midst of darkness.
September Oslo pleasantly impressed me with its unique and slightly strange beauty, the crowds of tourists and the rapt attention with which all the men in the airport and on the streets of the city stared at me. And yet, the sheer number of beggars, gypsies and fake beggars begging for crowns on the streets disgusted me. They are everywhere, pushy and always jingling the change they have in their paper coffee cups. They know who to approach: they calculate the cost of the victim's outfit without error. That night I was wearing tight blue jeans, a white tight blouse and my favourite eight-inch heels, all couture.
As soon as my feet set foot on Karl Johans Gate, Oslo's main, wide street stretching from Central Station to the Royal Palace, lined with expensive boutiques and cafes, I was immediately the object of everyone's attention. My beauty attracted mortals and my outfit attracted beggars. The gypsies in long skirts and ADIDAS trainers were particularly insolent: some shoved pictures of children under my nose, some tried to shove some magazine into my hands for which they would later demand money, others simply said, "Excuse me" and jingled their cardboard glasses with change in front of my face.