Jack- The Country of Music

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*

"Here at last!" I flung my arms wide open, getting some strange looks from a family on the balcony to our left. We'd only just gotten to The Zendua, a stylish- but affordable -hotel in the heart of the city. The hotel rose over the area, sleek and modern with its angular lines, glass, and gold embellishments.

"Very excited, aren't you?"

"I..um-"

Gale, eyes closed, leaned against the wall behind me. The soft shine of the evening sun fell, brightening the silver railings of the balcony. "I'm going downstairs for dinner," she announced.

"I'll join you. And you can leave your bag here, you know." I gestured at the leather shoulder bag dangling from Gale's fingers as we went back into her hotel room.

"I'd rather have it with me."

"I'm sure it'll be fine in here. Look, if it makes you feel better, we can leave it in the car for safe keeping." I slung a pale jacket over my shoulders, but my wallet fell out. Gale bent to pick it up and gave it to me.

"It's fine. I don't want to trouble you. Wait, there's something else." She knelt down to pick up the picture that'd slipped out from my wallet and handed it over.

"Thanks."

"Is that of your friends?"

"...Mhm." I flicked the photograph over and pointed them out to her. "That's Kaia. Akosua. Over here's Kwame. And that's Yafeu. Now, let's go down to dinner before all the nice food's finished."

"Yes, my apologies."

"What's even in that bag of yours?" I said as we navigated our way through the wide corridors of the hotel.

She hesitated. "My journal. I thought Eddie might like to read about all the good times we had together."

I brushed a hand against hers awkwardly. "We'll get it to him soon."

Gale grinned, adjusting the strap of her bag.

~

"I need to call someone," I said, straight after dinner.

"Go ahead. I'll be in my room if you need me."

My hotel room wasn't that far from Gale's- only a few doors down. Convenient, seeing as I'd planned to take her out later. But that thought went through my head pretty quickly; I hadn't talked to Mother since our first night from the house, what with keeping tabs on things for the next phase of the trip. Turning the dial several times, I steeled myself for the impending conversation. When she eventually answered, her voice was breezy. Forced.

"Evening," I greeted, deciding to skip the pleasantries. "So who was it? You said you'd tell me."

"Yes- yes. Of course, I did. So..." she trailed off, voice weak.

She'd cut the line as a pair of feet pounded down the stairs during our last call. This time, Mother tried to steer the conversation onto other topics, but I was having none of it.

"Who-"

"The person," she interrupted herself and paused again. She took in a sharp breath, letting the rest of her words tumble out and fall in a muddled heap past her lips. "The person was your father, Jack."

"Father. But what's he- What was he...?" I gabbled.

"He was looking for you."

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