Twenty minutes after leaving my flat, I was on a train to London. Remington had not told me what, or how, or when yet, but he had promised.
He had promised he would figure something out. And the way he had looked at me in my dress, yesterday in the bathroom stall, I knew that he would not let the chance of being alone with me slide.
Worry still overtook my brain, as the train bound for the capital of the country. Once again the questions arose about who could know about all of this. Part of me really wanted to tell Phoebe, but the thought of being forced to sign some type of NDA made me nervous. I was scared to break the rules, but I was even more scared to ask Remington to ask what these rules even were. I did not want to give him any ideas.
I sighed, and decided to just listen to some music, and let the thoughts pass, the way the English countryside was passing me by.
But when I let go of my thoughts for a second too long, Remington was all up in my head, again. I did not want to admit how many times my mind just wandered off to him, as if he was my true source of comfort. Maybe he was, just because he was the only thing that distracted me from the mundanity of life. I associated him with spontaneity and adventure, the things I craved most.
As I arrived in busy London, I could only think about what had happened yesterday. The way he sounded when he called me to cancel our plans... The doubts and worries started again. But he had promised, last night. A flash of his face played before my eyes, most of it overtaken by the shadows in the garden, but his eyes gleamed with honesty.
So, just like yesterday, I sat down on a bench and sent him a message.
I'm in London, what now?
This time around, he did not call immediately, with guilt in his voice. He replied with a text.
I have a plan!!!
Did not expect u to be here this early tho, will call u when I have time
Fuck, yeah. Maybe we should have talked about a time. But I had been so overtaken with excitement to get to the city, and to Remington, that I had totally forgotten about that.
I replied to his text message with a simple 'when will that be?' and he immediately replied.
Getting into vip things now, probably an hour or two
So, I had two hours to fill, and no clue where to go. Mel was not an option: I knew she was busy with work. For once, I had not forgotten to send her a text, the morning after going out together.
I did not want to go home to my parents, it just gave me an icky feeling. Luckily, I knew one other person in the city. Maybe I could even stay over for dinner?
***
Nan's face lit up as she opened the door, her house comfortably warm compared to the winter cold outside. "Rylin, lassie! Come in!"
My nan was over the moon to see me and cancelled the plans she had with her book club immediately upon my entering. Within fifteen minutes, the coffee table was decked out with all of the tea-time foods you could think of, and I was on the couch with a cup of tea, under strict orders not to move for anything.
We talked, gossiped about her new neighbours, ate, and just spent time together. I missed being able to randomly visit this place, and be with family. Be part of a family. Just for that, I would move back to London, even if I did not want to. It made me even sadder about leaving the country, someday.
After a little while, my phone started to buzz in my pocket. I immediately knew who it was.
"Oh, sorry, I have to take this," I excused myself, grabbing my phone. Of course, it was Remington calling.
"That's fine," my grandma got up from her seat, as if she knew, "I will go make some more tea for us." She shuffled into the kitchen, the next room over.
"Hey," I said, raising my phone to my ear. Both excitement and fear rushed through my body, battling for dominance.
"Hey, Rylin," Remington sounded the same way he always did when talking to me. My excitement won the battle. he would not sound like this if he had bad news, right? And well, he did promise he would figure something out.
"So," I asked, "are you calling with good or bad news?"
"Depends," Remington answered, amusement in his voice, "do you enjoy spending time with me?"
"Of course I do," I rolled my eyes, fiddling with one of my grandma's couch pillows, "we're friends."
"Good." Something in his voice changed, making me look at my feet, even if he was not here, and I did not need to avoid his gaze. What was going on? I wished I could read his mind, that his thoughts would roll over a screen the way the backstory did at the beginning of every Star Wars movie. "Sorry," he muttered, after a few seconds of background noise, "someone walked into the room. But you are in London, right?"
Something stung in my chest, but I pushed the pain away. "Yes, I am."
"Well then, I can tell you my top-secret plan." The warmth came back to Remington's voice, and so did my grandma from the other room, clutching a teapot in her hands. She filled up my cup and put in a dollop of milk, the way I liked it. I thanked her with a smile.
"So there's a plan?" I tried not to smile, and keep my face as neutral as possible, but I saw curiosity spark in my nan's eyes. "Explain away."
"Are you sure you're ready for this top-secret mission?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." It was the truth. Every time I saw him, it felt like being caught off guard. Being blown away just by the simple fact of his existence. How any time he looked at me with that little smile of his, my heart started beating louder, and how every time I saw the spark of lust, the traces of the fire in his eyes, I did not know how to handle myself anymore.
"Okay, okay." He broke through my thoughts, and my head made a little shake before I could compose myself again. I did not only have to pay attention to what Remington was saying, but also to the elderly lady sitting across from me with eager eyes and ears. Act normal for once, Rylin.
"My plan is quite simple," He continued, "I booked you a room in my hotel, I will text you the address. It's under your own name."
"Hmh." My heart clenched thinking about how much money this man was spending just to spend a few hours with me. I did not know exactly how much that hotel room cost, of course, but judging by the fact that Remington was staying there too, not cheap.
"Now, the key is." He started talking slower, marking the importance of what he was about to say, "You can't come in before eight. Half past or later would be ideal. I will be playing the show then, and I am counting on the fans being at the venue then."
"Okay," I said, taking in the information.
"And one more thing, in case there are people camping there, or something, please wear something non-suspicious, maybe something to cover your hair?" He paused, and I could hear him sigh. "I hate to do this, but if someone spots you now, and in Wolverhampton too, or wherever, everything could be out so easily. I just don't want that to happen."
"I know," I could not keep the sad tone from my voice, "It will be okay."
I would not lie, I was kind of scared of going to that hotel, now. Scared of everything being exposed, out in the open like Remington just said. Scared of the wrath of a bunch of eighteen-year-old girls.
"But when you're inside, you just check in and text me your room number and just chill until I'm there."
I could not wait for the feeling of those crisp, white hotel bedsheets around my legs, and the anticipation of the dark-haired guy that would be next to me, at some point tonight. Or maybe even better: on top of me.
"Sounds like a plan," I told Remington, looking back at my grandma, who had her brows raised now.
"I know, I am very proud of it," he said. "And Rylin?"
"Yeah?"
I'm excited to see you." It felt like a bold statement.
I smiled. "Me too."
"See you tonight, then."
"Yeah, see you tonight. You better wear a kilt, though. Like a real Scot."
He chuckled. "I'll see what I can do. But I have to go now. See you soon, Ry."
The way he shortened my name made my heart stop for a second. IT had been a long time since someone called me that. "See you soon, Remmy." I shot back. I could hear him chuckle before he hung up.
"Who was that?" My grandma immediately asked.
Uh oh. Judging by the shimmer in her eyes, as well as the tone of her voice, she was piecing everything together.
But well, what was everything exactly? Even I had no idea.
"Just a friend," I said, but I knew I was too late.
"Lassie, I might be old, but I'm not stupid. And you know me: I'm not nosy, I just like to know everything." The old lady raised her brows at me.
"I mean," I started, not knowing where the sentence would end. The words were on my lips, the words that would change, well, everything, but I could not say them. Not yet. "It was just a friend." Heat rose to my face. "And I am still figuring out if that is all."
"So is it a girl, then? Or a boy?"
I was taking a sip of tea but almost spat it out again. Twenty-six years, and I was still surprised by how straightforward the woman could be. "A boy," I said, after swallowing the tea, with some difficulty.
My nan squinted as if she was making a mental note. "And what's that I heard about a kilt? Is he Scottish?"
"Oh, no." I could see a clear disappointment on my nan's face. "We met at a party a few weeks ago," I explained, "he was wearing a checkered skirt, and I was wondering if it was a kilt or not."
The old lady across from me chuckled, "That reminds me of a story..." Her withered cheeks turned a soft pink, her hand in front of her mouth, "From before I met your grandfather, actually."
I loved it when my nan told stories about life back when she was young, in a little village in the Scottish highlands. When I was a kid, she would tell me stories about her town, the nature all around, local myths and legends... When I got older, she would tell me about the years she had spent with my grandfather, before he got sick. She rarely talked about her twenties, though. Judging by that, they must have been pretty wild.
"I met a friend, like yours," she raised her brows at me, "because of a kilt, too."
I got comfortable on the couch, before taking another sip of tea, and letting the old lady tell her story.
"I think you are old enough for this story, now."
"Only now? I'm twenty-six!"
"Twenty-six is the perfect age for a story like this... It all started on a particularly hot summer day." A distant look in her eyes, as if she was actually revisiting that day. "My best friend, Holly, and I decided to go to the city for some ice cream. And you know, back then, a lot of English came up to the highlands in the summer. We'd call it 'the infestation'. So, Holly and I got on the bus, and the first seat you laid your eyes on, was a British lad, about my age, wearing a kilt. And I assure you, lassie, the way he was sitting made sure everyone that got on that bus knew he was wearing it like a real Scot." My grandmother slightly smiled, stirring her tea.
I could only imagine how funny and terrifying it must be at the same time, to enter the bus and immediately be confronted with a stranger's dick.
"Well, Holly and I watched the facial expressions of everyone getting flashed upon entering that bus for a few stops before I went up to him to put him out of his misery. Of course, he was very thankful. So thankful that he got both me and Holly Ice cream when we arrived in Inverness. So thankful, he showed me the room he was staying in, if you know what I mean. Such a fun summer, that year..."
See? My grandma's twenties had been wild. And she definitely was onto me.
"Okay," I admitted, "That might have happened with me and the non-Scot too."
She slowly shook her head. "As long as you are having fun, lassie."
A quick look at my phone showed the time. A quarter past eight. "I think it is time for me to leave, Nan."
And after an extensive goodbye, a trip with the busy London underground, and a short walk, I arrived at the address Remington had sent me.
The street seemed calm, with no groups of young girls, and no suspicious people. I did pop on the surprisingly stylish fur bucket hat that I had borrowed from my grandma, just to be sure.
As planned, I checked into the hotel and messaged my room number to Remington. He did not reply, but of course, he was playing a show right now.
As soon as I entered the light, pretty spacious room, the bed called to me. Exhaustion took over. Putting my bag on the floor and slipping out of my shoes, I fell backwards onto the bed. I did not bother to change, although I took off Remington's blazer before getting under the covers. A little nap wouldn't hurt anybody, definitely because I was just waiting for Remington.
I immediately fell asleep, dreaming of kilts, dark-haired boys with kind eyes, and endless possibilities.
***a/n***
the story about the bus is (sadly) based on true events, i will never be the same after seeing some stranger accidentally show it all off on a bus lmao