Vincent crawls onto the bed and ducks down to stick his head between my thighs. At the first stroke of his tongue I think I might explode. Jonathan keeps pumping in and out of me and his hands stroke my breasts. It’s all too much – the sensations are so overwhelming that I’m having difficulty keeping myself upright.
I don’t need much more. The orgasm that has been steadily building up is erupting in all its glory. Pleasure floods my entire body. Behind me, I hear Jonathan groan as he comes with me.
After all the adrenaline of the moment, I slump forward. Vincent catches me and lifts me up. Jonathan pulls down the blanket, slips underneath and makes room for me and Vincent. Vincent lays me down and comes to lie on my other side.
Trapped between Vincent and Jonathan, I drift off to sleep almost immediately.
Present day
Camille
That morning, I wake up feeling more rested than ever. My entire body is still sizzling from the most erotic night of my life. When I try to turn around, I bump into a muscular chest. I follow the arm that’s slung across my waist with my eyes and see that Vincent’s still soundly asleep behind me. Jonathan’s gone. I sit up cautiously, scanning the room for his clothes, but they’re gone too. Then my gaze lands on the alarm clock next to our bed. Oh shit – it’s ten o’clock already!
I’m about to jump out of bed when Vincent reels me back in.
“Go back to sleep,” he says drowsily.
“I gotta get up. Maxim’s probably in front of the TV in the living room by now.”
I try to get out of bed again, but again he pulls me back. “Jonathan’s taken Maxim to a band rehearsal so we could sleep in. We’re meeting him there in the afternoon.”
“Ah.”
Vincent pulls me in and kisses me playfully on the nose. I bite my lip and give him an anxious glance.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he inquires.
“What next?” I gingerly ask. “I mean, between you, me and Jonathan?”
Vincent shrugs, but I can tell he’s also bothered by it. “What do you want?”
He tenderly caresses my cheek and looks at me so lovingly – quite frankly, I don’t know what I want in this moment. Yesterday was fantastic, but I know full well that things might get too complicated if we keep going down that path.
Vincent smiles at me, then kisses me gently on the forehead. “Let’s see how things play out. Stop worrying for now.”
This is why I love Vincent: he’s sweet, gentle, and he sees right through me. He always knows just what to say to put me at ease or take my worries away. Since I can’t even remember the last time I was able to sleep in, I decide to enjoy the moment. I crawl into Vincent’s arms and nestle into his embrace.
Mike is waiting for us at the entrance of the music hall and tells us that the band is setting everything up on stage. Vincent takes my hand and we walk over to that area. My nerves are shot. After all these years I’m going to be reunited with the other band members, and I have no idea what they’ll think of everything that’s happened.
When we open the door and enter the actual hall, all eyes are on us. They’re all here. Max is lined up in front of the microphone. John and Tim are to his right, both with their guitars. Finally my gaze drifts to Jonathan. He’s behind the drums with Maxim in his lap. Jonathan’s smiling broadly and Maxim is trying to hit the drums with his sticks.
Vincent helps me up on stage and follows me when I head for Jonathan. Maxim’s gaze shoots up at me. He jumps off Jonathan’s lap and runs right at me.
“Mommy, mommy!”
I catch him and give him a kiss on his unruly hair. Jonathan joins us. He wraps his arm around Maxim and me and kisses me gently. We stare into each other’s eyes. When I tear my gaze away, I see that everyone’s looking at us. Especially Vincent’s giving me an intense look. I smile at him reassuringly before I address everyone. “Hey, you guys.”
Present day
Vincent
It dawned on me all of a sudden. In a flash I saw Jonathan, Camille, and Maxim as a happy family, standing there on stage. It made me decide something: I don’t want to be in their way. But even though I know how this will end, I’m not ready to take that first step away from her. I don’t want to step aside yet.
I’m sure I’ll know when it’s the right time. Once I feel it, I’ll let them go. So they can finally experience the happiness that was taken away from them five years ago.
Present day
Camille
Today I’m working a shift at the coffee bar. Vincent dropped Maxim off at school this morning and I’m scheduled to pick him up late in the afternoon. Jonathan has the final rehearsal for the concert that will take place tomorrow – the first of many. Maxim is over the moon, because Jonathan promised him he’d be allowed on stage just before the concert starts. He’s been talking about it all week, especially about the fact that he’ll be allowed to play on Jonathan’s drumkit once more. I haven’t been able to calm him down for the past few days.
It got even worse when we went to the store to pick up a pair of hearing protectors yesterday. He’s dragging them with him everywhere he goes. I gave up trying to get him to keep them in his room.
I feel good most of all about the fact that Maxim is feeling so happy. He doesn’t know what the situation is with me, Vincent, and Jonathan: he’s just happy to finally have a dad. I’ll be honest – it took me a while to admit to myself that I love them both, Vincent and Jonathan, but I’m happy that we found a healthy balance. We don’t care what the world might think of it. Sure, at some point people will find out. After all, Jonathan is chased by papparazzi wherever he goes so we’ll be found out sooner rather than later. We all agreed that we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Worrying about it now isn’t going to do any of us any good.
Vincent’s been subdued for the past few days, though. I’ve decided to ask him what’s going on tonight. If we want this agreement between us to work, we all need to be open and honest, and that includes him. I can only hope he’ll be open to me helping him for once.
I use my keys to open the front door of the coffee bar and lock it behind me. Then, I focus on getting the bar ready for business. Soon, the smell of freshly-burnt coffee fills the premises.
Once everything is ready, I open the door for my first few customers. The first hour flies by. Me and Nele – the other waitress working today – work together like a well-oiled machine.
It’s almost ten by the time Karen and Mike walk in. Due to all the events in my own life I’ve hardly had time to catch up with my best friend. Well, judging from the broad smile on her face, she’s doing well.
I walk over to their table and take their orders. Once I go back to the kitchen to pass on the orders, Karen follows me.
“You guys managed to work things out?” I ask her.
Karen darts a look over her shoulder in Mike’s direction and beams at him. “We’ve got a long way to go, but we’ll make it work. At the very least he’s giving our relationship an honest shot.”
I hug Karen and mumble into her ear: “You deserve it, girl. I wish you both all the best.”
“Girls’ night soon?” Karen wants to know. “I want to know everything about you and your two knights in shining armor.”
I feel myself blush. “You’d better bring some booze, then.”
She winks at me. “Consider it done.”
* * *
That night, Nele and I are cleaning the last bits of mess away when I turn to her. “Why don’t you go home? I can finish up here.”
“You sure? Kevin was feeling a bit sick this morning, so I don’t want to leave him with my mother-in-law for too long.”
Kevin’s her little boy.
“Sure, I can manage on my own. Just go.”
She quickly grabs her coat from the rack and hurries out. In the silence that follows, I put the last few chairs onto the tables. We’re closing early today, so I can pick up Maxim from school. I can only guess at h
ow nervous he’s feeling about tonight.
When I’m done, I take my bag from the personnel break room and switch off all the lights. One last look around to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything and then I’m out the door. I pull it shut behind me and lock up.
Just as I’m about to head in the direction of our apartment, someone grabs me from behind. Someone who clamps a rough hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming.
Panic flares up inside me. With all my might, I struggle against my attacker, but it’s no use: the person holding me from behind is a lot stronger than me. I’m trapped.
The hand is pressing down on my mouth so forcefully that I can hardly breathe, let alone cry for help. Then my attacker slips a handkerchief over my nose and mouth. Something smelling like chloroform drifts into my nostrils and I feel my head spin. Again, I struggle against the man, but I feel myself slipping away.
The last thing I remember is someone lifting me up and putting me on the back seat of a car.
And then, everything fades to black.
Present day
Jonathan
I’m onstage with the band, going through some final details and making sure everything’s prepped for tomorrow. It’s really happening: we’ll playing a concert in Belgium for the first time in five years. Right here at the venue where it all started. And everything needs to be perfect. We’ve worked very hard to make sure our fans get the awesome concert they deserve. Without their ongoing support we wouldn’t be where we are today.
I haven’t seen much of Camille and Vincent in the past few days. We’ve been so busy preparing everything that I usually got home late this week.
I feel my cellphone vibrate in my pants pocket and take it out. ‘VINCENT’ appears on the display.
“Hey, little brother,” I answer the phone.
“Jon, have you spoken to Camille at all today?”
The question takes me by surprise. I’m immediately alarmed by his anxious tone. “No, I’ve been busy rehearsing. Why?”
Vincent grunts. “Something’s not right. I’m sure of it. Maxim’s school just called me because Camille didn’t show. She’d never forget to pick him up, so something must have happened.”
I agree. I can’t imagine Camille forgetting to pick up her own son.
“I’m going to call Karen and ask if she can pick up Maxim,” Vincent continues. “I’m coming to the music hall now. See you in five.”
A terrible, sinking feeling nestles itself in my stomach. As soon as Vincent’s ended the call, I scroll through my contacts to find Camille’s number. It rings a few times, then switches to voicemail. I end the call and try again, but again, I get her voicemail. So I decide to leave a message.
“Camille, can you call me back immediately when you hear this?”
Max has walked over to and is standing next to me. “What’s going on?”
“Camille never showed when she was supposed to pick up Maxim from school. Vincent can’t reach her and neither can I.”
“When did you last talk to her?”
“This morning, before she left for work.”
The door to the music call swings open and in come Mike and Steve. They’re running and Vincent is following in their wake.
“What’s going on?” I shout.
“I think you need to see this,” Mike says urgently.
He opens the small netbook he’s brought along and clicks on the mailbox we use for Full Moon fanmail. Hundreds of emails from fans wishing us good luck flood the screen, but one email stands out. It is titled WHO SAVES CAMILLE?
Everyone has joined us to see what’s going on. Mike clicks on the link in the email and a video pops up. The image is blurry and dark. It takes a while for things to come into focus, but when they do, we see Camille appear. She’s tied to a chair, dressed in just her underwear, and she’s shivering violently. The camera zooms in, getting a good view of her anxious face and tear-stained cheeks. She’s trying to scream, but she’s gagged and we can’t make out any words. A man’s silhouette appears behind her, in the background.
What the fuck is going on?
He uses one hand to swipe the hair from her neck. When his other hand comes into view, we all see the glistening knife he’s holding. Bile rises in my throat and I have to force myself to keep watching.
As soon as the knife touches her throat, Camille starts to scream even louder. Her breath is ragged and her eyes are pleading, begging me to come save her. And then that asshole forces the blade against her skin. A few drops of blood well up and trickle down her neck. And then the image fades to black. The only thing that’s left is the text:
YOU TOOK AWAY MY LIFE. NOW I’M TAKING YOURS.
And then the video ends.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Who sent that video?” Vincent wants to know.
I’m amazed at his calmness, because I’m about to ram my fist into the first available wall I see. If I ever get my hands on the person who did this to her, that man won’t live to tell the tale.
“It was sent anonymously,” Mike comments.
Vincent leans into the screen. “Can you play it again?”
“We don’t have time to watch it again,” I shout. “We have to call the cops, right now!”
I call 911 while Mike plays the video again for Vincent. I tell the police everything we know and they reassure me by saying they’ll send someone over as fast as they can. I turn around and see Vincent has paused the video. Camille is still visible, but he’s focused on a part of the chair she’s sitting on.
“You see that?” He taps the screen.
I lean in to find out what he’s talking about, and then I see it. Apparently, I’m not the only one because everyone else jumps up in unison. We all run to the hallway and start to scan the area from left to right, because that chair Camille is sitting on? It has a label of this venue on one of the legs. She must be here somewhere. We start to haphazardly open doors left and right. Storage rooms, all empty. The last door in the hall is opened by Vincent and he enters quickly.
I see why when the door fully opens. Camille is sitting there, still dressed in just her lingerie like on the video. She’s still gagged and she’s trying to shout something so frantically that it prompts Vincent to run inside without looking around him.
And then, before I fully realize what’s happening – the sound of a gunshot.
Vincent slumps to the floor and Camille is in hysterics. From the corner of the storage room, a figure emerges. I have to blink a few times just to make sure I’m seeing this right, but my eyes don’t deceive me.
It’s Joe.
Joe, who is now watching Vincent lying on the floor. When he sees me, he turns deadly pale. He’s looking from me to Vincent. It’s obvious what he meant to do: he did this to lure me out. I was his target. He didn’t take into account that it might be Vincent who’d run in to untie Camille before me.
In a blind rage I storm forward and hit Joe in the face. And I keep going: blow upon blow rains down on his head and body. Only when he slumps to the floor as well do I run toward Camille. I yank off the gag and start to untie her. Once she’s free, she crawls across the floor toward Vincent, and I follow her.
The big puddle of blood he’s lying in doesn’t bode well. I pull his head into my lap and start screaming for help.
The other band members pile in and Max whips out his phone to call the paramedics. The only thing I can do is to keeping talking to Vincent.
“The ambulance is on its way,” I say with a trembling voice. “You can’t give up, Vincent. I’m here with you.”
Next to me, Camille is bawling uncontrollably. She takes Vincent’s hand in hers and kisses it gently.
“You have to stay with us, Vincent,” she begs him. “Keep your eyes open. All will be well. Try to stay awake.”
Present day
Vincent
They always say your entire life flashes in front of your eyes right before you die. In my case, that doesn’t happen. The
only thing I see before me are the two people in my life whom I love unconditionally. Jonathan is cradling my head in his lap. He’s looking at me and crying for help. Camille slides into view next to him.
“You gotta stay with us, Vincent,” she quietly repeats.
With one final effort, my gaze goes from Camille to Jonathan. “Take good care of her.”
Then I close my eyes for good.
Present day
Camille
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Everyone’s waiting for me in the living room, but I’m not ready. How could I be? How can anyone be ready for a moment like this?
The pale face staring back at me doesn’t look like the Camille I know. I try to pucker up the courage to go out there and face the music, but I honestly can’t. Someone knocks on the door and it swings open.
“Camille?”
Jonathan appears behind me. He looks just as pale and worn-out. His eyes aren’t radiant like usual. He has a pained expression on his face, but I can see how he’s trying to suppress it for my benefit.
“Everyone’s here,” he gingerly says. “We’re about to leave.”
“I don’t think I can do it. I’m not ready.”
Jonathan walks over to me and pulls me against him. “I know,” he sighs. “Me neither, but we don’t have a choice.”
He extends a hand toward me. “We’ll get through this together, Camille. I’ll be there for you. Always.”
* * *
The limo transporting all the band members is shrouded in silence the entire way to the church. No one felt like driving there himself, so we took the easy way out. This way we can all go to the funeral together.
When we get there, no one gets up to open the door. We’re all staring dead ahead without speaking. The few minutes that elapse seem to stretch on for hours. At long last, it is Jonathan who opens the car door.
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