by Kylie Walker
Asher eyed Roman. “Sounds pretty legit to me man.”
“Let’s do this,” Roman chuckled, feeling pumped and ready to throw back a couple of draft beers. They walked inside where they were greeted by a friendly hostess wearing traditional Dirndl with suspenders.
She began talking to them in German, but when they expressed the need for English, she immediately switched over with a thick and heavy accent. She walked them to a booth in the back after their request. She didn’t appear to recognize them, but that was somewhat of a relief to Roman who preferred not to be bothered while he enjoyed a dine-in experience at a restaurant.
They settled into their seats, taking a menu each. Asher inspected the items on the list. “Well, the bad news is, everything is advertised in German. The good news is, at least there are pictures for some of this stuff.”
Roman laughed, bending over his own menu to determine what he should get. In the end, both guys opted to go the safe route, ordering the Spatzle and Bratwurst displayed on a chalkboard board on the sidewalk outside.
They ordered beers they couldn’t pronounce, fully confident that they would taste authentically German and delicious.
Roman leaned back in his seat, sagging against the booth cushions and yawned. He rubbed his bleary eyes that suddenly began to sting out of nowhere.
“I feel you dude.” Asher nodded with a sympathetic frown. “It’s probably safe to say that we are all feeling the effects of the constant travel.”
Roman drummed his fingertips against the surface of the booth table. It was a habit he picked up, always exhibiting the need to keep his hands busy.
“Yeah, I could crash for a while. If my head hit the pillow I would probably sleep for a long time,” he admitted. “I feel like I could use a month of sleep.”
“Same,” Asher nodded with a chuckle. “But as much as I complain about it, as soon as I get out there on the stage, my exhaustion disappears.”
Roman knew exactly what Asher was referring to. There was nothing that could ever compare to the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins as soon as he was sitting in front of a sea of thousands of people who adored him and his band members.
Asher chugged a healthy swallow of his beer, smacking his lips after and letting out a sigh of contentment. “That’s some damn good brew right there.”
Roman laughed. “How could we expect anything less, being in Germany?”
Asher raised his glass. “Let’s toast. To the rest of the tour.”
Roman clanked his glass against the side of Asher’s. A few drops of the amber liquid sloshed out of the glass and dribbled down the front. Roman gulped down half the glass, feeling suddenly sloppy and dysmorphic, but in a relishing way.
“So,” Asher began. “How are things going with the blonde?”
Roman’s eyebrows shot up expectantly. “You mean Chloe?”
“I like calling her The Blonde.” Asher’s eyes flashed with mischief.
“So, I guess we are dramatically shifting gears?” Roman pretended to shove an imaginary gear stick.
“Yeah,” Asher laughed and scratched the bridge of his nose. “I guess you could say that. I just want to live vicariously through someone else’s sex life.”
Roman scrunched his nose in disapproval. “Don’t go there.”
Asher leaned across the table, giving his buddy a light punch. “You know what I mean you asshole,” he chuckled.
“It’s going well I suppose.” Roman paused, abstractly nodding.
He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but he was afraid that if he discussed his blossoming relationship with Chloe, that somehow, he would ruin or taint it in some way.
He had never been in a serious relationship like this before. Not that he and Chloe had communicated their wishes for how to proceed. It was something that just had to come naturally. He didn’t want to put the filters on their relationship that society would be expecting. It wasn’t as if they needed to belt out terms and conditions like they were signing a formal contract.
“We are just having fun at the moment and seeing where it takes us,” he added. It was the most genuine response he could give to Asher about the depth he felt on the subject.
He was still processing his emotions, trying not to become overwhelmed while still achieving and maintaining a sense of balance and peace. Chloe was a wonderful, beautiful girl inside and out.
“I don’t want to jinx myself,” he laughed. He knew how ridiculous it sounded, but it was the truth.
“What do you mean?” Asher quizzed with a frown.
“I don’t know,” Roman shrugged and stabbed a crispy, round piece of bratwurst and forked it to his mouth. “It’s so new...”
Asher’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “You really like this one.”
Roman laughed, chewing as he shifted his weight. “Can you blame me?”
Asher shook his head. “No. She’s pretty hot. You know what they say right?”
“What?” Roman washed his food down with another gulp of beer.
“Blonde’s have more fun.”
“Yes. Yes, we do.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted a few seconds later before Roman had the chance to elaborate.
“Excuse me,” a pair of mousy women with thick accents approached the table.
“Stay back,” the security guard stepped in front of the women.
“No,” Roman waved them access. “It’s okay.” He was finished eating, so he didn’t mind a slice of attention. He glanced over at Asher to grant permission as well. “Are you good?”
Asher nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
The women weren’t necessarily what Roman would consider being attractive, but they seemed spontaneously brave and giddy to approach the two of them, so he had to give them the props.
“We heard you were in town,” one of them breathed. “We just can’t believe we happened to be in the restaurant at the same time as you.”
At least they weren’t stalkers. Coincidence earned the merit stripes for a picture.
“Come on over,” Roman roped them in.
The brunette lifted her camera, adjusting her angle until the four of them were in the selfie. She took three to ensure she would have at least one good one.
“Thank you so much,” she panted in a shaky voice as if the moment was still surreal in her mind.
“No problem at all,” Roman and Asher smiled as the women walked away, leaving them alone once again.
“Are you ready to get out of here and go get your drums?” Asher flung his napkin to the top of his plate. “I’m stuffed.”
“Me too,” Roman admitted, standing up to stretch. “That was fun and relaxing and all, but let’s get out of here. We still have sound check.”
They walked back across the street in the same direction they came from. Roman was the first to push through the door of the music shop. The same staff worker who had enthusiastically assisted them, in the beginning, was not there anymore.
“I’m Roman Davenport,” he explained to the receptionist at the front desk. “Heath was supposed to be tuning my drum set.”
“Oh right,” the dark-haired, slender woman chimed, pointing a finger adorned with black nail polish to the back of the shop. “He should be back there. You can go ahead though.”
Roman looked at Asher as they awkwardly stepped to the back of the shop feeling out of place.
“Heath?” Roman called out from behind a set of swing double doors.
Asher walked over to a keyboard and began tickling the ivory keys with his index and thumb fingers.
A few moments later, Heath emerged. “Hello!” He chimed with an exuberant grin. “It’s nice to see you again.” His English was remarkable, although it was slightly difficult to understand him through the heavy German accent.
“Are my drums ready to go?” Roman asked.
Health bowed with a professional nod. “Yes. They are tuned up quite nicely now. Would you care to take them for a test drive?”
<
br /> Roman grinned at Asher who was listening to the conversation, but his hands were still slightly tapping the keyboard.
“I would love to.”
“Follow me,” Heath beckoned with a flick of his wrist in the direction behind the double doors.
Roman plucked a pair of black drumsticks from a table next to a kit of various wrenches, screws and other tools. He began pounding them against the side of the crash drum, the snare drum, then finally the kick drum below with his foot pedal.
He was satisfied with the work quality that had been put into the tuning job. “They sound amazing. Nice work.” He shook Heath’s hand, giving him a healthy tip.
Heath’s eyes widened as if he wasn’t expecting it. “Thank you so much.” He bowed again and clamped his hands together. “You can pay for the rest of the service with Darla up at the front reception desk.”
Roman paid with Darla, and then they carried the drum set back into the car. As soon as everything was safe and secure, Roman gave Asher a high five, climbing into the back seat together. “Let’s go rock out some vicious tunes at sound check dude.”
Asher beamed. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Roman mirrored the same enthusiasm but knew that as much as he wanted to pound on his newly tuned drum set, he would need to reserve most of his stored batches of energy for tonight’s adoring fans in the arena crowd.
And after that, for Chloe.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chloe walked through the hotel room she now shared with Roman. She still had the assistants reserve her a room so that no one would question her motives, but most of the time she preferred to shack up with Roman both for the company of a warm body and the constant orgasms.
She frowned, pausing in the center of the room while she turned in a slow circle. She was missing something. She just knew it in the back of her mind. There was something she was forgetting.
She was going to be late to the show if she fretted around here for much longer. She hadn’t seen Roman all day, knowing that he had been busy earlier getting his drum set worked on, and then heading over to sound check.
They had made a plan to meet up after sound check before Roman prepared for tonight’s show. As she walked over to the little kitchenette in the hotel room, the lightbulb went off in her mind.
Roman had this crazy, yet adorable tradition. As a creature of habit, he never strayed from this one little thing. Before every show, he loved to drink a Red Bull and enjoy a cold Reese’s peanut butter cup that had been in the fridge. Chloe pulled open the fridge door, smiling as she saw Roman’s treats, just waiting for him. If getting his sugar rush was the one weird trick that made him the drumming god he was, then so be it.
Chloe pushed the snacks into her purse as she set about putting on a pair of sandals. She grabbed her room key from the top of the television stand, fully prepared now to walk out the door and meet Roman. If she got her timing right, she would get there, arriving at the venue right when sound check was ending. Her heart swelled with pride that she was lucky enough to be a part of Roman’s tradition. He wasn’t a demanding type of guy, this was just his one requested thing, and she was happy to oblige.
As soon as she grabbed the door handle to exit the hotel room, her cell phone began ringing from the bottom of her purse. She had to shuffle through a few items to find her cell phone buried all the way in deep. She anticipated it to be Roman, asking her if she was on her way.
When she saw the screen and noticed that it was her sister Ashley calling, Chloe’s heart plummeted through her chest. Every time she got a call from her sister or mother, alarm bells always started going off in her mind.
Sudden weakness in her legs slowed her down, and panic made her feel as if her eyes had tunnel vision.
“Hello?” She whispered almost inaudibly into the phone.
Instantly, her worst fears were realized. It was as if she had been riding in a Lamborghini going one hundred miles an hour and then it suddenly crashed into a brick wall. She was jolted and shattered, and her sister hadn’t even said a word yet.
“Ashley?” Chloe’s voice embodied sheer panic. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She caved to the ground, crossing her legs as she leaned against the wall. She rocked back and forth, her head in her hands.
“Chloe...” Ashley was sobbing inconsolably into the phone. None of her words were coming out decipherable or recognizable.
“Take a deep breath,” Chloe instructed, going into protective older sister mode. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Dad...sick...hospital...” Ashley slurred the words into one garbled mess.
“What’s wrong with dad?” Chloe pressed.
Chloe felt a million miles away. She had the unsettling sensation that she was dangling on the edge of the cliff and didn’t have the strength or grip to cling on for dear life any longer.
Ashley sobbed, clearly distraught and succumbing to the grief and pressure of the stress.
“Ashley?” Chloe took a deep and labored breath. She knew she would have to be the strong and sturdy rock and foundation for her sister to stand on. “Is dad alive?”
“Yes...” Ashley whimpered and then trailed off.
Chloe leaned back against the side of the wall, relishing in how cool it felt against her neck. At least her father was still alive. She had that hope to snatch, and she wouldn’t let it go.
“Okay,” she continued. “So, tell me as best as you can. What happened?”
“He started having a seizure,” Ashley hiccupped. “Mom called 911. The ambulance came and took him away.”
“Do they know what caused the seizure?” Chloe questioned. Her mind was racing a million miles a second, and she didn’t have time to catch up with it, but under the circumstances, she was doing her best to formulate thoughts.
“I don’t know...” Ashley still sounded traumatized and distraught. “He looked so scary Chloe...”
“Could it have been the medication?” Chloe tried to rationalize.
“We are at the hospital now,” Ashley sniffed. “Daddy is in the Intensive Care Unit. They won’t let us go back to see him yet, and we are waiting on word from the doctor to figure out what went wrong.”
“I’m coming home,” Chloe stated with affirmative determination.
This time, Ashley didn’t object.
Devastation weighed heavy on Chloe’s chest, but she had a substantial number of tasks to complete before she rushed onto a plane. For one, she had to call Roman. In the tense moment, she forgot all about him. She would need to contact him and get him up to speed. If he were worth being boyfriend material, he would understand.
“I’m coming home Ash,” Chloe promised. “Just give me a little while to sort out a flight. I’ll be in touch soon.”
She hung up the phone, feeling a well of grief pooling in her eyes. Salty tears ran down her face. She was unable to prevent them from spilling, but at the same time, she was numb. She was probably in shock, but she had to put one foot in front of the other.
With shaking hands, she managed to fumble onto Roman’s number and promptly hit the dial button. The ringing in her ears sounded diluted, far away as if she were underwater and trying to hear things happening from above the surface.
It rang and rang for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, his voice came over his voice mail.
Leave a message.
She croaked, tried to speak, but no words would come out. She swiftly hit the end call button and threw her phone onto the bed as a surge of frustration impaled her mind. She ran her hands through her hair, took a deep breath and walked back over to the bed, picking the phone back up.
She dialed Roman’s number again, but again, she struck out. Roman always had his phone with him like it was surgically attached to him somehow. Chloe didn’t know the reason why he wasn’t answering, but she didn’t exactly have time to wait around for him either.
She packed her bags, her mind floating to places she didn’t wish it to. Not bothering
to fold anything, she tossed it all in, including her toiletries. Then, heading to her own room, she did the same with the few items she had stashed there. Looking down, she realized she’d tossed her little bottles of shampoo and conditioner on top of her most expensive dress. She didn’t care all that much about the knock-off couture she bought. It was all she could afford anyway, just cheap imitations of the real thing.
If her shampoo exploded its contents in the suitcase and ruined everything inside, she wouldn’t even care. Nothing inside was worth more than getting to her father’s side before— With a grunt, she slammed the suitcase closed, shampoo and all. Zipping it up and locking the padlock, she hefted it to the ground.
She should have packed lighter, for this very reason—in case she had to race out of a strange country at a moment’s notice to get back to the States. She should have planned for this eventuality better. She should have planned with the band and Emelia that if she suddenly disappeared with a hastily scrawled text message, that this is why.
Chloe’s mind was beginning to fester. She dialed Roman’s number. Still no answer, and still no closer to her being able to formulate words in order to explain to him what was going on. She dialed Emelia next. It also went to voicemail — another dead end. No one would be in their rooms now, not with the concert so close to starting — no use in trying anyone else in the band at this point.
Would Roman come searching for her if she failed to show up? It wasn’t a very plausible scenario. He had a show to do tonight. Would he be able to perform, being worried about her the entire time and wondering where she was?
Chloe’s heart was racing as rapidly as the thoughts barreling through her head at a million miles an hour. While she fretted over how to reach Roman, her father’s physical condition continued to deteriorate as the minutes on the clock ticked by.
Frustrated, Chloe pushed her way back through Roman’s hotel room and grabbed her other filled suitcase, clutching it so tightly in her fingers that her knuckles turned white.
She took a deep breath. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t have a choice. If her father died without her being there to sit by his side, she would never be able to forgive herself. She’d call Roman later from the airport, leave him a message. She had to get home. She would just have to pay later for the ramifications of vacating the tour and the responsibilities that came along with her job. If they were worth staying in her life, and if they cared enough about her, they would understand that her motives were pure, and her family ties ran deep.