I had never been in that café; I just knew it by reputation. I took as much cash as I could and promised myself to take the less expansive drink. I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated when I pushed the glass door and sit at a table in a far corner of the room, like he'd politely asked me to. I soon kept on checking on the door as well as the time on my phone. I thought I looked awful: I was ashamed of my hair, which I simply let loose on my shoulders and I thought I should have put a nicer sweater or more jewelry. Thank god I still had my favorite earrings and put some make-up on, I thought as I twirled a strand of hair around my finger.
My heart skipped a beat. There he was. Though he arrived with an ordinary grey jacket and a big black hat, I recognized him as soon as he pushed the door. He soon recognized me too and came towards me. His bodyguards were also there and sit quietly a few tables away from us. He sat down in front of me, smiling:
"Hi."
"Hi."
Both of us went silent. I realized I had no idea what to tell him. He didn't seem to be so at ease either, as he kept on turning the rings on his slender fingers.
"… I'm sorry." I declared with a nervous laugh. "I just can't realize you're there with me, especially after… all that."
"How are your injuries?" He bluntly asked me.
My smile disappeared and I brought my hands to my face as a reflex, though I couldn't feel the swellings anymore.
"Better." I replied in an undertone.
He seemed to have misinterpreted it and bowed his head, looking at his hands in silence. I couldn't tell if he looked more worried, guilty or mad, or all three at the same time.
"I'm terribly sorry about what happened. I'd understand if you're mad at me now…"
The waiter then arrived and we ordered. I couldn't wait for him to get away.
"I'm not." I replied when we were alone again. "I told you, it wasn't your fault."
"These girls are insane. And they're dangerous. I feel sorry that they hit you because of me."
"They're stalkers of your band, right?"
He nodded.
"They've been stalking us for years, now. It's not the first time Tom and I've been dealing with them. Tom even hit one of them in the face at a gas-station one night. As a result, they sued us and they won."
He clenched his fists and his voice went weaker, like he was suddenly more talking to himself than to me:
"Sometimes I wish people would just leave us alone. It's true that fame brings you wonders you'd never dream of, but it's also very hard: you don't know who likes you because of who you are or because of what you seem to be. You can hear horrible, wrong things about you as well as exaggerated compliments like you were God in disguise. But I'm not. I'm absolutely not. I just..."
I waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did. The waiter brought us our drinks, this time so discreetly I didn't hear him come and go. My eyes were fixed on Bill. For the first time, I wasn't comparing him to the portrait my sister and best friend had of the singer of Tokio Hotel. I just saw a 23-year-old lonely young man whose hand I wanted to hold in mine but wouldn't. He must've have been embarrassed to have said that out of nowhere as he took a sip on his cup, but then grimaced:
"That guy gave me tea instead of coffee. Great..."
"Wait," I said before he called the waiter. "here, take mine. I'm not in the mood for coffee anyway."
He smiled and thanked me after we traded. His blueberry tea wasn't that bad.
I drank a little more and slowly swallowed before finally asking the question I had in mind:
"So… you did have feelings for me, huh?"
He looked at me with surprise and I tried not to turn my eyes away from his. He smirked:
"And here I thought I was the only one trying to ignore the elephant in the room…"
"When the journalists asked, I told them the only thing between you and me was music. It's not like it was any of their business anyway, but I wasn't sure myself…"
He sighed.
"I was in love with you. I tried to deny it as much as possible, and I failed. End of the story."
He looked more embarrassed now, but I didn't want to stop there. I simply couldn't. So I went on with another question:
"…So I guess Dieter wasn't so happy about it, was he?"
"He wasn't." Bill replied and shrugged. "I don't care. I admit I wasn't totally objective, but Tom and I did think –and still do- that your voice is exceptional."
"Thank you."
"And I also had no choice. We had very few time to choose people and…"
He was suddenly talking fast like he was trying to justify himself. I stopped him with a simple gesture of the hand and smiled:
"I'm not mad, Bill, if that's what you're wondering."
We went quiet again, before I took another sip and sighed:
"…It's not like nothing happened anyway. I learned a lot on DSDS and I had a fun time with all of you, guys. I heard I even got some fans in the meantime." I said and smiled at it. "…I made a few mistakes and got kicked out, that's it. But I'm not gonna stop there. I'll fight and try again, somewhere else… It just can't be the end. Anyone who knows me knows that I won't stop fighting until someone dies."
These words reminded me when I left school to go to my first year at the conservatoire, the first time I got a job to finance it and spared money to get an apartment and so on, feeling the fire of ambition running through my veins again with those simple words… unless it was another kind of fire. The stare and smile Bill gave me suddenly made me feel ill-at-ease, as they were the ones intensifying the heat now. The truth was that the more he would smile at me, the more I would feel myself falling for this weird guy Luce and Anna were fans of.
"You know," I said to change the subject and prevent the blood from rising to my cheeks, "I never found the time to tell you that, but I love your tattoos."
His smile broadened. My god, how did he manage to get such white teeth?
"Thank you! Tom and I have the same on our fingers."
"Yeah, I saw that ! What is it? What does it represent?"
"16:30; it's the time Tom and I were born."
"Nice! And the hand?" I said pointing at his skeleton hand.
"Well…" He said, raising it at the height of his face. "I guess I just liked the pattern. I drew it myself."
"Let me see…" I said, getting closer. "I didn't see the bird between the bones before! That's cute!"
He put his hand between us and I turned it in mine, looking for more secret pictures. I also found a flower at the bottom of his wrist. I couldn't help looking at his delicate pale fingers, with their silver rings and shiny black nails.
"It's not fair." I said and smirked. "Your hands are more feminine than mine. I wish I had yours."
"Don't be too harsh. Yours are fine too."
I kept on smirking and shook my head. Bill tried to take one of my hands but I winced in pain with a simple brush and withdrew them.
"Sorry…" I said. "I have wounds on the tips of my fingers. They are really sensitive."
"Really? Show me." He ordered.
I hesitated, but then reluctantly brought them back on the table and let Bill's hands touch them.
"They are ugly." I mumbled, disgusted by the roughness of my skin against the silk of Bill's. "The palms are callous because of my work. Water dries the skin. And my fingers are burned because of the chemicals in the products. I cannot even put dressings on them because they get lost in the dirty water."
"Don't you have gloves? Or a hand cream?"
I shrugged.
"My hands are too small for the gloves they gave me. And I know I should use some cream but I always forget to buy it. So it ends up as dry as parchment."
I couldn't look at my hands. I was so ashamed I tried to take them off the table, but Bill didn't let go of them. I stood still and stared at him like I was watching the scene from behind a screen as he brought these hands -like they weren't mine- to his face and gave them a long kiss with his eyes closed.
"You're beautiful." He stated and gave them a light squeeze. "And you have talent, a lot. Promise me you'll never forget any of those things."
"I… promise."
I had almost tears in my eyes when my finished my tea and replied, looking into his chocolate brown eyes:
"…You're sweet. And you're strong. I think I'd love to be like you some day."
"Don't say that." He answered and chuckled. "There are sides in me you really wouldn't like to have."
"I know." I said. "I know, for example, that I'm not 100% jealous of your style... Don't get me wrong, you always have great outfits." I immediately replied. "But the first time I saw you, I swear you appeared to me like a parrakeet that got lost in Dita Von Teese's wardrobe."
At first, I thought he would be upset by what I said –which he obviously was for a micro-second- but we then both looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.
"No doubt I never met anybody like you before." He said, still laughing.
"I can say the same about you for sure." I replied.
I didn't notice how late it was until I took a glance at the outside by the window and saw it was already night-time.
The four of us –me, Bill and his bodyguards- finally paid and left. I accepted his offer to drive me home but, long after we'd arrived at my address and we'd both come out of the car, we both stood at my door, hesitant.
"I don't think you should stay here." I said in an undertone.
His car wasn't a limo of course, but it was still unusually classy enough to be noticed in my neighborhood.
"If some journalists are still around, they'll know you came here for me."
"Don't I have the right to accompany a friend home?" He asked and paused. "…We can be friends, right?"
"Yes, of course…"
"I'd be glad to see you again, maybe some other time."
"Sure… But I don't know when we'll meet again."
I twirled a strand of hair around my finger, and he smiled:
"We'll find a way, don't worry. I'll tell you when I have spare-time, and you'll do the same, so we'll keep in touch."
"Ok…"
He tilted his head on the side.
"You don't sound so happy with it."
"I am!" I spontaneously replied. "I just… I still can't realize this is all happening for real."
He smiled. His eyes were shining in the dark like those of a cat.
"Me neither."
We both paused, just smiling.
"I think your chauffeur's falling asleep, which means I really have to go now. So… see you later, I guess?"
He nodded.
"Yes. See you later."
We both hugged, and I sighed at how good I felt in his arms, with the scent of his Cologne coming from his neck. We then parted and I felt our cheeks brush in the process. He looked at me, closer than he had even been so far, and I realized his stare had totally paralyzed me. Should I…? It's too soon… But it's so tempting… No! Come on, get on with it! I felt my thoughts buzzing like a cloud of insects invading my skull with no place left for the brain.
"I…" I said, struggling to make an understandable sentence. "I go now. Bye." I said as I opened the door and went in.
My face was burning so much I wouldn't be surprised if it had actually been glowing in the dark. I waited to hear him start and go, but he himself wouldn't move until I closed the glass door of the building and turned at the corner of the entrance. When I thought he couldn't see me, I turned around to watch his car disappear with a fading roaring sound.
Bill… What have we done tonight ? I thought.
It was so late I knew my mother was going to kill me.