.13.

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A female voice, very familiar to me, had called my name. Unfortunately, she cut me off mid-sentence so I couldn't let the band know what my decision was. But I can tell them that right away.

First I have to take care of my other, just starting, problem. And that will definitely take a while. Because knowing her, she will tell me about every single event. Of everything that happened to her in the time we didn't see each other. And that can take quite a long time because she talks non-stop.

"Why didn't you say you were here?"

"A big hello to you too, Stacy.", I greeted the brunette.

James already knew her. I wasn't so sure about Lars Cliff and Kirk had no idea who the woman next to me was.

"Guys this is Stacy. My female best friend.", I introduced Stacy and she smiled once at everyone.

Before I could say anything, she pulled me off my stool and led me in any direction. I had no idea what she wanted from me, but I followed her anyway. Stacy was very stubborn. I learned that early on. It's better if you just do what she asks before having to listen to an hour-long lecture.

I made that mistake.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that she had pulled me into the women's restroom. It was only in front of each mirror that she let go of my wrist and turned to me dramatically. As if I hadn't told her about a date. Then she reacted the same way.

"Why don't you tell me that one guy with the curly hair looks so cute? I would have dressed in something much more appropriate.", she said to me.

Huh?

How the fuck am I supposed to know where she was when she didn't tell me? Do I have to understand this statement now? Was she even serious? And why did that bother me so much?

I just hoped that feeling of jealousy would go away soon. I mean why should I be jealous? I have no reason to.

"How am I supposed to know you're here? Actually, I have to work in case you forgot.", I explained to her.

Stacy just shrugged and set her bag down on the sink. She dug out lipstick, mascara, and rouge. She wasn't serious, was she? She gave me a confused look through the mirror. She must have noticed my eye roll.

"Does it have to be that way? Can't you do that in front of James?"

"I don't care about this bastard. I'm interested in the cute curly head.", said Stacy as seriously as possible.

I felt a slight tug in my chest and looked at my dirty vans. I've had the shoes for two years since James gave them to me. I loved these shoes since then.

Why did it bother me so much? I mean, Kirk was a one-off thing. Or? Am I just imagining it? Was I perhaps the only one who thought that there might be more to it than meets the eye?

I shouldn't think like that. Especially not when Stacy has obviously called him cute twice already.

Admittedly, she was right about that.

A newly made up Stacy and I came out of the women's room and went back to the four boys. Apparently they were talking about something because when we got to them they stopped talking.

I sat back down on the bar stool and cleared my throat. Everyone looked at me.

"To come back to the previous topic. I'd love to come with you. I want to meet my best friend's band."

"Can I join too?", Stacy asked so innocently I almost believed her.

Why did she want to come? She didn't hear this music because it was too aggressive for her. I didn't understand it but there were far more complicated things than that.

"Uhm sure I guess?", James said rather questioningly.

He was apparently just as confused as I was. And for a damn good reason.

Was she trying to hook up with Kirk through the tour? Why would that even bother me? Why does the thought alone bother me? I should stop thinking about it.

"We'll let Bob know and you take care of packing. We'll start in one month.", Cliff informed us and I nodded.

Without saying another word, I got up and made my way out of the bar. I still had to go shopping with Nelly as well as cook dinner. I couldn't lean back.

I looked at everyone again and gave them a smile.

"See you soon.", with that I disappeared and had even forgotten something.

𝔅𝔞𝔟𝔶, 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 || 𝔨. 𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔱Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora