The time difference between L.A. and Dallas woke everyone early. With the rising sun, the denizens of the hotel were awakening to eat breakfast and go about their daily routines. Some were enjoying the casual stay, like the traveling pair of lawyers in room B207. Others, such as the newlywed couple in C225, were unfortunate enough to be booked down the hall from the Zeppelin gang. And some, like Robert, were experimenting with a different kind of romance.
Outside it was light out, the world was awash with light blue and a tinge of grey, looking more like England than Dallas. Lorelei was the first to be woken by the racket next door. It was Peter on the phone. She wondered why the hell he was up at this hour. What could be so important? It seemed that everyone else was used to the sound, as they were all sound asleep. She couldn't hear anyone stirring, least of all Robert. He was snoring away on his pillow, features mashed into the soft cotton.
This hotel was particularly nice, which made her rude awakening less unpleasant. The bed linen was quality, which was the true sign of a good hotel. She was used to the rough feeling of 100-count sheets and polyester blend pillowcases. She was happy to be here, especially with such a high-caliber guest.
As she looked around the room at all of the amenities, she felt lucky to be there with him. She was Robert Plant's woman for the time being. She was in a place that thousands of women and men would kill for.
He was special, she thought. He was a shining gem under the sun she found on the sidewalk. She felt lucky to be with him, to share the same sheets as him. His hands felt like a prayer on her skin, every kiss was a message from a loving God.
Their love would be fraught and temporary, of course, but it could also be beautiful. It could be the shortest, most peaceful death her heart had experienced. She could see the end already before the opening credits started. She could feel her heart already in pieces. But she would be happy to have it broken by him.
The clouds were shielded by the budding sun, but eventually, they gave way to a beautiful scene. She thought the renewed sun looked like an egg yolk, but that was on account of her hunger. She hadn't eaten since the day before at lunchtime, and the rumbling in her stomach was becoming noticeable. She surmised Robert would have to do for now, and drank the sight of him.
She knew he would break her heart. Whether their time was tonight, or it spiraled into months, she knew it would end in a shattering mess of tears and heartbreak. But she just couldn't care. It was Robert. He was everything she'd ever wanted.
After the years, what was one more heartache? Love had never been kind, it never had wings, only teeth, and jagged edges. It seemed worth it in that moment.
She was entirely happy to observe him passively as he slept. When he was awake he was on fire, aroused at its simplest definition. When he slept he was quaint and tractable. In his supine state, she could easily look at him without those prying eyes, absorb his beauty without the threat of ego. He was docile and beautiful as ever.
As if feeling her eyes hot on him, he began to rouse. He woke suddenly with grace, popping his eyes open to see her. He smiled at once, delighted to see that she was still in the room with him. He worried before he drifted off that she would leave, or that she was but a figment of his imagination.
Fortunately, she was wholly real.
"G'mornin," he grumbled, his voice hoarse and laden with sleep. She liked the huskiness of it. It sounded sexy, whether it was the product of misuse of his vocal cords or all of the cigarettes.
Their connection could not be denied. There was something pulling them together. Destiny, fate, what have you, something was drawing them close. There was something calling them to each other. They were not like magnets, because their polarity is what repels them; they were entirely attracted to the moronically similar features they possess. They were Gemini lovers, twins in love and life. They were too similar and would only destroy each other.
Robert was drawn to her for this very reason. She was an opulent hand mirror. He could see himself in her eyes, distorted into a hero. He was drunk on the power she gave him.
"Goodmorning," She chirped, all too eager to see him awake. She was smiling, her china doll face bright and open with the promise of morning. Her marble eyes were puffy with sleep.
"How did you sleep?" He sat up now and reached over for a cigarette. He left his pack of Park Lanes on the table next to the stark lamp. He fished one from the pack with his deft fingers and put it between his lips. "Got a light?" He asked, his lips forming around the smoking stick.
"Umm, I don't think so," she tittered.
"That's alright, I should have one." He stood from the bed, clad in his birthday suit. She averted her eyes at first but dropped her hands after the realization that this would be an occurrence she would and could get used to.
"Alright, now where were we?" He asked when he was firmly planted in the bed once more. He pulled her closer and breathed in her scent. She smelled like coconut and sea salt with a hint of vanilla. He wondered how she managed that.
"So, we have a break today. What do you want to do, love?" He continued to smoke as he asked, looking at her sweet face. He thought she was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he'd seen in a long time.
Her hair was wild, looking less tame in the morning than it had the night before. Her eyes were light and warm, they had a charming and enlightening quality about them. Her eyes drew him in, called to him from across the club that night.
-
Even in the dim light of The Nightengale, Robert found his way to her. It was midnight, and the moon was raised high in the sky, illuminating the pavement outside. She trickled in ten minutes after they arrived, content with the idea of meeting one Mr. Robert Plant.
She caught his attention immediately. He couldn't help but pull his gaze from Jimmy. His eyes left their booth, moved away from his pallid face, and found their way to her figure. He was hooked from the moment he laid eyes on her.
It was all intentional, of course. She dressed to impress, as always, but took special care this particular evening. She dressed in her finest robes, making sure to accentuate her best features. She wore a silk dress in a dark teal shade that detailed her curves, wrestled her hair into the perfect curl pattern, slipped on a sleek pair of pink heels, and finished the look with a dark and minimal makeup job.
She stood next to the bar trying her best to appear as if she wasn't desperately searching for him. She heard they would be in town two weeks ago from Juniper, the closest thing Lorelei had to a friend for the time being. After hearing about their impending arrival she settled on a plan. She couldn't get in to see them (the tickets had been sold out three days before she'd even heard about the show) but she would run into them somehow.
Yes, L.A. was a big town, but she was determined. She knew where they would go, and exactly what booth they'd be in. Security would be lacking and so would morals. She would slip right in and make her way to Robert's bed with no problem.
The matter of actually doing it was a different story. She thought it would be easy, just as Ritchie, David, and all the others had been. They had come to her, essentially laying bare at her feet, asking for her love. She barely had to lift a finger in getting them to her. She never bothered with nerves and thought little of the future.
Robert was different. He was much more beautiful, more talented too, than any of the other guys. He had a charisma that could parallel God, a swagger that would choke the devil and bring angels to tears. No wonder he had such a way with women...
Warm light and sweetly perfumed air swarmed her, rushed through her hair, and trickled down her neck like Summer wind through lace curtains. She was hot, suddenly sweat pricked her skin and ran down her neck. It no longer seemed so easy to take steps toward him.
She tried her best to put one foot down, then the other. Reluctantly she made her way to him in short, even strides. She put on her greatest face of confidence for him.
He watched her from the moment she stepped in. She was gorgeous, that was sure, but seemingly unaware of it. She moved languidly, slowly, and methodically, as if no one was watching her. She was a fawn walking with new legs.
He could tell she was looking for him. Her eyes searched, on a mission for someone. At first, he hoped it was for him, unsure if it were true, but it was soon revealed that he was her target. Her slight smile at the sight of him was the tell that revealed her excellent poker face.
Now she was coming closer, and he watched her still. He watched as she set her intentions, painted the floor with them as she made her move, and watched yet as she stopped short at the bar. He deflated.
It was his turn to make a move. Their silent gambit would not end here, no, it had just begun.
He made his way to the bar with one utterance of "sorry," to Jimmy. His serpentine steps were accented by his snakeskin boots and he leaned against the cool granite of the bar.
"Can I have a vodka tonic? Well, make that two." Robert's voice was buttery smooth and strong. Even over the din of the club, she knew who it was. She didn't even have to look.
"Make that second vodka-tonic a martini. Dry. I don't like vodka," she said, now flashing that famous sweet look.
Her face was delicate and soft. She had clear skin and rosebud lips, soft and pink, even without the lipstick. Robert wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss her, to ravage her right there on the bar. But he didn't.
"My apologies, love," he turned his body to her. He raked his eyes up and down her frame, giving her an indolent stare. He made it loud and clear that he was admiring her.
She felt golden and warm inside. A rush filtered through her. She tried her best to fight off the giggles. "No worries. I appreciate the drink."
She worried that he would leave. His amorous eyes were pushing her off her usual game. Her flame was smothered by his overpowering heat. She didn't know that he was just as interested in her.
"I'm Robert."
"Lorelei."
"Lorelei? That's a lovely name. Lorelei... I like how that sounds." The syllables rolled off his tongue with flawless precision. He swirled her around his mouth as if he were tasting her, licking the sugar off her enflamed frame.
She burned with ardent joy. "Thank you. I've always thought it sounds like a grandma's name, but my mother thought it was cheery."
He chortled. "Cheery? That seems to fit you, doesn't it?"
Now she was laughing. She couldn't help it. He made her giddy. "You don't even know me."
"Yes," he was laser focused now, and serious, "but I want to, darling. I want to know you very much." His eyes brushed her lips, his gaze falling on his target.
A slight smile returned to her lips. She'd procured him.
-
Jimmy, on the other hand, was terribly miserable. He was plagued with deep pain. He woke each morning with the bitter feeling of lovesickness, missing the woman he called home. Her eyes and lips were etched into his mind and her voice played on an endless loop all day long. He longed for her. It was an aching pain in his side, a stabbing at his heart. The only moments of relief were when he talked to her, about her, or thought of her. It was a constant drumming in his head.
He tried his best to pull himself from the recesses of the hotel bed. He threw back the duvet and went to the balcony doors. He drew the curtains back and looked out at the nature before him. There were rolling hills and sprawling countryside landscapes, complete with animals and little white fences. It reminded him of his bucolic life with Gwen back in Pangbourne. He sighed and sat down at the writing desk in the corner of his room. Perhaps he'd just write a letter, considering how early it was back home.
He started with an address of his feelings, a profession of his sorrows. Then, he went into catching her up on the events of the tour so far. Bonzo had destroyed three hotel rooms, Robert had wracked up twenty-eight women, and Jonesy got drunk the night before and danced on a table at the behest of a very high Robert. Richard got himself purse-slapped by an angry woman who was not receptive to his flirting. Peter had yelled at 32 stage managers and club promoters. He laughed as he recounted last night's debauchery. He coerced Bonzo into throwing a set of TVs out the window, cackling all the while. This frustrated Peter, which was also a plus.
His prose was interrupted by a knock at the door and a voice telling him it was time for breakfast.
Bonzo was sleeping in, as usual. He was a rock in the bed adjacent to Jonesy. His snorting was loud and disruptive, it even kept Jonesy up until the late hours of the night. It made him very sour and tired, but he pressed on. He tip-toed out of the room and made his way down to the lobby. He was greeted by the smell of waffles and fresh bread. Sometimes the hotels had a great spread and sometimes all they were offered was fruit.
"Good morning, Mr. Jones!" Robert was cheery. His morning activities were heard by all, being the sound that ultimately woke Jimmy.
"Good morning." He said as he took a seat next to the guitarist. He was scraping butter on a piece of bread, a bitter look on his pale face.
"What's the matter with you, Jim? Isn't this a glorious morning?" Robert asked, rather enforced.
"No."
"Well, why not? The sun is shining and the birds are chirping. Take a deep breath," he stopped to dramatically inhale with a fluid sniffle, "can't you feel the marrow of life filling your lungs? It's just beautiful." He was smiling now, an arm slung around Lorelei.
"He's lovesick, don't you know?" Jonesy smirked with a coy expression.
Robert matched his manner and spoke once more, "Ah, yes, fair Gwen. How is the lass?"
"I haven't spoken to her in two days. I feel as if I am shriveling up." He rested his chin in his palm and sighed. The dramatics of his emotions was amusing to his friends. Never had they seen him so distraught over a woman. He was a man not to be tied down. Now he was doing the unthinkable. Settling down with an American woman? Abstaining from groupies? It was a ghastly sight.
"It seems our friend is in love."
"Who is he talking about?" Lorelei asked.
"A lovely little photographer we met a few months back. It seems he is enchanted by her."
"More than enchanted. Enlightened." No one had heard Jimmy speak with such emotion or conviction, not in matters of romance, anyway.
"Is that so?"
"I would marry her if she asked. And I mean it, really marry. I would give up everything for her."
"What is she like?" Lorelei wasted no time making herself comfortable with the band. She was friendly in that way, very open and loving. This was one of the reasons Robert was drawn to her.
"She's incredible. Smart, funny, talented, and driven. And the best part, she's also a witch. We do spells together, cook, read together. She even appreciates my music. We were made for each other, a perfect yin and yang."
"Wow, she sounds great. I can see why you're so smitten."
"Much, much more than smitten. I am in love."
"In love?" She giggled. It was like watching a play. This was his monologue, the part in the production where he addressed the audience with his deepest feelings.
"It is a big deal, we're all very proud of him. Jimmy doesn't really have emotions."
"I absolutely do. I just don't want to share them all the time. You are so wanton with your emotions, wearing that heart of yours on your sleeve."
"You're both annoying in your own special ways," Richard said. He settled the civil argument. They were always in competition. They were like two women pulling hair and scratching at one another.
When breakfast was finished, Bonzo showed up in the last moments, and Jimmy went back to writing his letter. He told Gwen all about Robert's new woman. She was nice and looked just like Robert. Blues eyes, curly blonde hair, and a big heart. They could be twins. He was satisfied with his writing and sealed the envelope, stamping it with the necessary information. He would have Peter drop it off at the post office before the show.
"Do you think they liked me?" Lorelei asked, looking in the mirror at her shapely frame.
She was wearing a simple Summer dress and red sandals. She looked like a child of the sun, a real hippie type. Robert enjoyed her look of sun-kissed skin and bright seaport eyes.
"I'm sure they loved you, just as I do." She giggled at his remark and settled into his embrace. "This tour is going to be great." She sighed.
"Oh, I think so."
-
She woke first the morning after their first meeting. The white sheets wrapped around her body, his too, and knitted them together. She could feel his warmth and could smell him all over her.
She sat up this morning and watched him. She reminisced on the night before, the scenes of the club. She could still feel the ache of him between her thighs.
He woke not long after her when she made a break for the bathroom. The shifting weight on the mattress alerted him to her presence. He was happy she hadn't left. Something about her stirred something up in him. Something good.
"How did you sleep?"
"Oh, fine. Fine, yeah."
Her mask of courage became muddled in the light of the morning, completely washing away under their sober glances. Today would be the day she was on the curb, to be gone before lunch. She knew how it worked and wasn't too excited for the feeling she would be left with. She could see it now: seated in the comfortable, plush chair in her aunt's dining room, plunging a tea bag into tepid water as she watched birds outside her kitchen window. The familiar ticking of her Grandfather Clock, chiming as she was filled with malaise. She felt this way when Ritchie told her to leave and when David made other plans. She was discarded, dismantled like a display case, ready to be stored away until next season.
She could hear Juniper's voice now, trying to quell her tears. She would brush her manicured fingers through her blonde hair and coo her into sleep. She could feel the lullaby tears and hear the dejection.
"Good," he nodded.
It was quiet for a moment. Peter and Bonzo were yammering away in the next room. Their strange accents were muffled through the walls and entered her ears like a patch of cotton fluff, sounding more foreign than ever.
Her skin itched. Her sweat from the night before dried to her fleshy frame and was now creating an unpleasant smell. She wanted out of this, wished for him to jettison her already.
"Well, love, I was going to wait until after breakfast to ask, but that seems too far. You are just so lovely, so effervescent," he spoke with a smirk. His voice crept from around the sides of his throat and rattled with a sexy softness, with a rasp of the morning, "and forgive me if I sound eager, but I just couldn't keep away from you."
She raised a brow. Was he nervous?
He laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I?"
She laughed too. The pressure had shifted from her to him in a confusing instant. "No, I'm afraid not."
"Okay, let me just be frank with you. I'd like you to accompany me on the rest of the tour."
His words surprised her. They pushed all thoughts of that lonely little house away. No more days in the sallow sun, waiting for the next band to come to town. He'd solved all the rainy days with one utterance.
His feminine allure was what drew her in. There was something so demure about him, so gentle. But he was definitely a man. The soaring heights of his voice were a testament to his femininity, the depths of his bluesy tone a measure of his status as a man. Last night was no different. He undilated between soft and gruff, man and woman. This pleased her, getting to see him unfettered.
He was beautiful. His features were rounded, but altogether angular.
"I would love to!" She didn't question his motivation or intention. He wanted her here with him and that was enough. It was better not to dwell on reality. Everything was a lot more fun if you indulged yourself in the fantasy of love and romance, plunging yourself into the throes of excitement. And with Robert, there would be nothing but excitement. He was a Leo, after all.
He was smitten with her as well. Perhaps it was vanity, their appearances being almost a perfect match. He needed a woman who could keep up with him and she was it. All night she ran alongside him, never once breaking her stride or lulling in speed. She wasn't cocky or too sure of herself. But she had an air of confidence to her and that's all he needed to see. She was lovely, so why shouldn't he indulge? Then he found that she was a genuine soul, which was where the trouble began.
"That is wonderful, love! I'm excited to spend my days with you, seeing you standing front row." A lopsided smile played on his lips as he spoke. Unbridled ego stood before him, plastered to his face.
He was a man with the world in his hands. No was not a word that he heard. It was uttered by himself and his bandmates, but never by someone standing in his presence. Although he liked her, it was the reflection of himself in her that he was loving more than the sea-front room of her blues eyes. He had no doubt she would say yes.
"I would love nothing more."
She was floating, tucked away in a cloud of a dream. This was the fantasy she engaged in. She wasn't reaching the heavens through the heart, she was being sat on a high shelf, one that only Robert could reach, but could get down from whenever he pleased. This was the condition of being an attendant to these men, a road wife. It was mutually assured destruction in some ways, the lack of responsibility. He didn't have to commit to her and she got to avoid the real world for three months, locked away in utter bliss. These two dreamers spent the morning lying in each other's arms, learning absolutely everything they could about one another.
-
"You can look, but you can't touch," she playfully asserted. The club lights illuminated her pale skin. They were bathed in blue and pink light.
His eyes narrowed, cut sapphire focused on polished ruby lips, "is that so? That doesn't sound like any fun," he took the olive from her drink and put it in his mouth, crunching with an equally sinister smile.
She pursed her lips together in an attempt to hide how smitten she'd become. He was cracking her facade. Soon he would see how deep she was in.
"Oh, don't go silent on me now. You had so much to say just a moment ago. Care to share what's on your mind, Lorelei?" He asked. He was devilish. Greedy. He wanted her all to himself and he would do anything to keep her there, but she couldn't know that. She couldn't know he was just as gone as she.
She quirked a brow. "You wouldn't want to know. That's... unbecoming of a young lady."
He was cracked now. A chuckle bubbled from the pits of his stomach and he shook his head, eyes cast downward. She couldn't see her effect, couldn't see that his pupils were blown to the edges of his irises. He was falling already. Ten minutes and he was tangled in her web. For the night, at least.
"I will have you know that I enjoy a devilish dance, a walk on the wild side."
"Is that so?"
She knew he was used to getting what he wanted. He was a golden god, a man who was becoming increasingly successful and powerful. He had made his rounds with the ladies of the scene and took no prisoners. He wasn't known to be as harsh as Jimmy, but deathly charming all the same. He was a knockout, a beautiful man. She could have him for the night no issue, but what was to come was what she feared.
"Why don't you find out?" He quipped, hoping his brazen desire would assist her into his bed.
For a moment she thought about it, but just one. She couldn't dottle on her answer. Flashes of the David fiasco entered her mind, but no sooner did they leave as they arrived. In a similarly quick fashion, she imagined being in his bed, what it would feel, sound, and taste like. She then thought about what it would be like when she inevitably had to leave it.
She put her drink down and turned to him. "Okay. Show me the way, lover".
Jimmy watched from the booth. He watched the two work away, watched as they began the play. And he watched as the curtains were drawn and they sought refuge in the comfort of a backstage bedroom. He was left alone in the sticky booth sipping on his whiskey, thinking of what Gwen would have to say about it all.