Moving in London has been the quickest adaptation I have ever done. I have spent the entire week with Ash and the lads. They really have changed my mind from all things Marcel and it's exactly what I needed. It has been difficult to have him out of my mind... and I also want to spend as much time with them before they go on tour and Sophie and I are left alone. They are really fun people to be around. I have been kicking their arses on PlayStation and they get so mad every time, it's very fun.
"These guys are... I don't even know how to call you. No, seriously." Mike points Ash and I and looks at Soph and Lucas sitting next to him and Caleb, backstage at the Roundhouse where they are performing tonight as the first act of some solo artist. I didn't get his name.
"You are just jealous." Ash smirks and circles my waist with his arm, pulling me closer to him, under the playful and slightly lustful mood in the air in the band's dressing room.
"I swear, these two are playing on the PS4, laughing, shouting at the other, to be going at it like fucking beast the next second." Mike concludes and I roll my eyes playfully, which Ash reacts proudly and pulls me closer again.
"When was it? It's not important anyway, but earlier this week, I came back from somewhere and I was sure Ash was watching porn, so I wanted to joke and join him. It wasn't porn. Thank God I didn't open the door to your bedroom."
"If you would have, you wouldn't have been here to tell the tale." Ash threatens with the largest grin.
I am almost sad to admit it, but I have been fooling around with Ash mainly to change my mind. I don't know what Marcel did to me, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. It's like he put me under his spell and, for once, I can't seem to get out of it. No news, not a thing since he dropped me off at Sophie's. I feel very ashamed to have used Ash like this, but we are just being casual, right? We are just fooling around... I really should stop this and take some time to myself to really think who I am away from all the men that were and are in my life. I want to be my own person.
We stop talking all together when we're surprised by a technician opens the door to tell the band to get ready. We all get up and exit the room with excitement. I am feeling so nervous for them, but they have this in the bag. They will have loads of fun like they always do. I know, I always have fun with them. It's easy. I don't have to worry about mood swings or the next roadblock. They take everything as a joke. They are a big breath of fresh air in my life and it is exactly what I need at the moment.
Ash's arm doesn't leave my waist as we make our way backstage. He takes his drumsticks from his back pocket and rolls them between his fingers. We stop behind the rest of the band and look at the stage. The boys wait patiently for the cue to go on the stage.
"Have fun up there." I wish Ash before I lean to kiss his lips quickly.
"I will." He smiles at me and kisses me one last time before he follows the boys to their instruments to set them right and then go on stage.
"Are you here with the SOS?" A ginger brother comes to Sophie and I. I nod in response.
"We are. Have you seen them perform before? They are really good." I tell him as his hair really makes me at ease with him instantly.
"I did and I know they are, that's why they are opening my show." He smiles brightly at me, chuckling a bit and I roll my eyes to my own dumbness. He reaches out to me with a hand and I take it with a smile to shake it firmly. "I'm Eddy."
"I'm enchanted to meet you, Eddy. I'm Grace." I present myself as Sophie is too drawn to the show to notice the man that has just joined us.
"Well, it's great to meet you too. You have a strong handshake, I know someone who'll like that." I frown to his weird comment, but don't mind it more than that.
"It shows character. It hints people that, despite my small height, I am a strong woman." I let out spontaneously and it gets him laughing.
He turns around and signs something I can't quite see in the semi-darkness of the side of yhe stage before he faces me again.
"Are you going to follow us on tour?" He asks, leaning towards me, showing me how interested in this conversation he is.
"I am not, unfortunately. I am close with the band, but not as much. I will have to stay behind." I joke to him, barely noticing his friend joining us as I speak.
"Marce, let me introduce you to Grace. I'm sure you'll get along together." Eddy smiles at me and turns to his friend, a hand on his back, as my sight crosses with his.
Marcel.
***
Even though it was my first time in a club, I don't let it show for one bit. I follow Ronnie everywhere. Marcel follows, but doesn't care at all. I guess he is sticking around so we can have a sober driver to get us back home safely. I have made a fool of myself with him earlier and I just want a drink to forget it.
Ronnie beats me to it. She orders shots for the both of us and I still feel Marcel's presence weighting over me. I hate it. I feel like he is judging me. I have been drunk lots of times in London which has created the reputation he has of me, always hungover. But tonight I want to be drunk. I need to be. I want to be tanked up, to start fresh better.
Five shots, a margarita and a sex on the beach later, Ronnie and I are dancing together being our own grown arse women, making the statement that we don't need any men to tie us down. I think we have shouted that quite few times to each other on the dance floor and we might have told a couple more to Marcel.
Let's just say that now, I'm too drunk to care. I guess he is amused by us. I get pleased he stays alone all night, at the bar, looking at us. I always try to be right where he can see us. Tempting him a little. I don't know if it works, but I feel sexy as hell. I must not look like it because I am sweaty as I can't stop dancing and giving it my all.
I look at Marcel far too often for my motto of the night saying we did not need any men. I get pleasantly surprised to see he refuses any women that goes to him to flirt. He kissed ME back, not even Ronnie. He doesn't even like me that way... Why do I care?!
Arghh!!
This is exhausting.
I should just go to him and ask for my answers.
Yeah!
I walk to him as he was already looking at me coming, a beer in his hands. I frown as I get to him, standing straight and tall but not for long as everything seems to be spinning. I need to focus on something.
"Have you been drinking the same beer all night?" I notice and ask before I get to my argument.
"I have." He answers simply, our sight crossing. I feel hot, like a wave of heat storming in me. My heart starts to pound like crazy and suddenly everything starts to spin.
"Why?" I lean in the side and must get a hold of the bar next to him to help me stand.
"Seeing the pace you girls drink, I need to stay put in case anything happens to you." He tells me quickly nodding his face to me. In my drunk head, he implies only me in that 'you'.
"What about Ronnie?" I frown harder, AGAIN what is it about me?!
"She doesn't look like we will need to wait on her tonight. She is being well taken care of..." He looks at her and point her with his chin for me to do the same.
It didn't take long for me to leave her to, now, find her dancing and grinding on the man next to her. Didn't she have a boyfriend?! I should have known she would have done this. I feel suddenly and exponentially alone.
"I guess I just lost my dancing partner..." I sigh and I feel truly sad. "Feels like my night out is over..."
I look at him quickly and back to Ronnie, she is completely gone. She is in her hunting mode. Marcel is right, we won't need to wait for her. I am really disappointed and being drunk heightens everything.
I make myself theatrical with all the sighs, but as I figure that we are going to leave shortly, I take Marcel's beer and drink it all at once and put it back on the bar. I wince at the taste from the beer's warmth.
"I guess we can leave now... I don't want to waste more of your time..." I let out sadly, thinking about him and how we can take this time alone to talk further together.
"Come on..." He lets out and takes my hand to guide me back to the shining lights.
"What are you doing?" I let out as he drags me back on the dance floor. It makes me both very perplex and happy. Very happy even, that's what my heart says.
"You need a partner and I have found my perfect opportunity." He shouts over the music as I barely can hear him.
"You want to dance with me?!"
"Anything to shut you up!" I take it badly at first, but the smirk that grows on his lips hints me the joke he just made and it charms me again.
He starts to move very awkwardly and I swoon completely under his charm again. Is he really going out of his way because of me?! I smile brightly and start to dance in front of him, probably being as awkward.
"Are you liking it so far?" I shout to him as he leans his head closer to me to hear better.
"Not really. It's not my kind of music."
"Me neither, but it feels great to dance and to feel as free. Do you feel free?"
"Not really." He laughs and I mirror him, seeing his discomfort but he keeps going. Ahhh... He's so beautiful!
"Here. Give me your hands." I ask him and take them in mine.
I take a step closer and move him with me as he doesn't dance like a robot that needs oiling. His body sways now, but he still looks bad, but I love it.
"It seems you still have that stick up your arse. Move your hips, sway them from side to side as you dance." I laugh at him, not even thinking for a second that I might hurt him and he could take it badly.
"Why don't you show me how?" He smirks and looks at me directly.
I feel hot so quickly at his words. Is he flirting?! Why is he so hard to figure out?! But I don't give a fuck! You want me to show you, that's what you'll get.
I put both of his hands on my hips as I smirk very widely to myself. I let the music get to me, through my entire body to communicate to Marcel how he ignites me like I have never been before. I feel hotter with his hands on me than I have felt dancing through the entire night.
I put my hands on his torso, sliding them on his chest to his neck as I dance against him. I could also be calling that grinding, but it's more sensual than it is inappropriate. I feel good. Great even. Lust is burning through my veins. I want more contact with him. And I need to face my urge to kiss him again very hard. So, I turn around for my back to face him.
It feels ecstatic to have him step closer. His abdomen is pressed tightly against my back. He excites me so much, I know just how I turn him on as he bends his knees for his groin to be at the small height of my arse. I continue to dance against him, but the touch is more intimate than it was before.
I look up and notice a smile on his lips. It overwhelms my heart with such a bliss and warmth.
It feels like we are all alone in the middle of these strangers as we are getting high on our lust. I am not imagining this. His hands press me hard against him. He encourages me. He likes this. He enjoys--
"I think it's time to go." He lets out and rips away from me.
I get offended and surprised by this sudden interruption as I was having more fun than I've had all night. Fortunately, he doesn't break all the contact between us, he keeps his hand on my lower back to guide me out with him.
He doesn't even stop to say to Ronnie we are leaving, he just guides me out. I'll text her. She's still dancing with the same man. I frown as I look at him to realise that it's the client she went on a date with twice. She must have known he was going to be there.
"Do you need to go to the loo?" He wonders as we walk by, but I shake my head, still troubled about all that happened and why we had to stop.
We get out in the chilly Manchester air and Marcel unlocks his car doors with a beep and the flashing lights to remind me where the car is parked. We get in the vehicle and he ignites the engine in silence. It's cold, but I am feeling too hot to put the heat on, and so must he as it stays untouched.
"Why did we have to leave, Marcel? We were having fun, weren't we?" I start to speak too loud, getting accustomed to the silence in the car that contrasts the loud music that was going on inside.
"Too much fun, yeah!" He looks at the road as he answers, leaving me even more clueless.
"Are you being sarcastic?"
He doesn't answer me, he just looks at me without saying a word, so I continue with my initial plan, to get him to tell me what the fuck is going on in his head.
"I would really like an answer, Mace. Because I truly can't figure you out. You are hot and the next second you are cold. Black and white. One second you are fun and the next you are... not fun. One second you flirt, the next you push me away. You sleep with Ronnie, but you don't even want to hug me. You walked away when I kissed you, but you turned my world upside down and made me feel the greatest things I have ever felt when YOU kissed me. I don't know on which foot to dance with you." I let out, being drunk and theatrical, but never have I spoken as truly my mind.
"It's complicated." He only responds and it sets me completely off the edge.
"It's complicated?!"
"You broke up with your boyfriend of five years a couple of hours ago, Grace."
"It has been over for longer than that and you know that. I told you that. Why won't you just answer me?!"
"What do you want me to tell you?!" He lashes out , being gesticulative before taking back a hold of the wheel.
"Just tell me what you think for once, so that I know how to act around you."
"Don't you see how you put me on the spot here?! I don't know how I feel, OK?! If I don't know myself, then how the hell can I let you know?"
Just like that, I stop to fight him for answers. I don't even know what to do with this information or how to deal with it. The car is radio silent and it stays this way until we get to his hotel.
We are climbing the steps to get to the front office as he finally speaks to me.
"At what time do you want to leave tomorrow?"
"It doesn't matter. When you are ready." I sigh as I really feel the high of the alcohol fading out, making me feel blue.
He stops by the office and addresses the lady.
"Good evening Miss, at what time do you serve your breakfasts in the morning?" He quickly asks her, being back to his cold and stuck up self.
"It's always from 7:30 until eleven in the morning." She answers with a smile as we might be the only people she has seen in hours since it's so early in the morning.
"Thank you. Have yourself a good night." He slides his hand on my back and hurries me forward.
We walk through the maze of corridors, on this very bright red carpet, and get to his room which might be the most luxurious room in this hotel, because it's bigger than the ones I have visited before.
As I see the bed and the laptop on it, I remember what happened earlier and I feel uneasy.
"Where will I sleep?" I ask him, being very shy, not really knowing where to stand.
He doesn't answer me, he just points the bed as he makes his way to the bathroom. He closes the door and locks it. It's not like I was going to open the door... I decide to take this time to get changed into my PJ. I get my bag and take a random camisole and a checked pair of wool-like pants. I strip out of my dress and take off my heels to get clothed again. I slide my camisole on, feeling weird about the fact that I will sleep clothed, which I never do, when Marcel gets out. Our gazes lock a second and I pull my pants to cover me quickly and get in them. It's not like he hasn't seen me before... But everything has changed. I don't see him the way I did when he walked in on me and Ash. If I had felt like I do now, I wouldn't have pursued anything with Ash. I have a level of respect for Marcel I never could have for Steeve, so things would have turned out very differently.
I slide between the sheets and I ravish under the cold. It feels so nice, but as I am making myself comfortable, I straighten myself against the headboard and look at Marcel.
"Am I on your side?" I frown slightly as he walks to the telly to get the remote.
He smiles and comes to the empty side to sit over the covers, still all dressed.
"No, it's alright. My side changes from room to room. Is right side always your side?" He asks me and turns on the telly, showing one of the many reruns of The Big Bang Theory on E4.
"It's actually always the side closer to the door." I answer as I take my extra pillow and hug it to my chest.
"You are kidding me. Right?" He surprises me and I frown, looking up to him.
"Why would I?" I answer him like he answered me before.
"Nothing. I just never thought somebody would think about these things like I do." He giggles softly next to me, which makes me relax and weirds me out at the same time to think that we think alike on something.
"But I am closer to the door, do you want my side?" I realise and offer him, I really don't want to impose myself.
"No, I am alright. The window side suits me just fine." He smiles at me and changes the channel. "Do you want to watch something?"
"Put anything you want, I don't watch lots of telly, because I don't really have the time."
"Now, you do." He says and turns off the telly to get his computer at the end of the bed. "I didn't ask you what is your favourite movie."
He remembers! Just like that, he brings the giddiness back.
I smile to him, he is being so sweet and caring. What is happening to him so suddenly?!
"Titanic." I grin wider and look at him mirror me. "Alright, say it. Laugh at me for loving such a cheesy dramatic romance. I heard it all."
"I have only heard of it, so I can't judge you."
"You haven't seen Titanic?!"
"No."
"You haven't lived!" I exclaim, clearly messing with him which grants me a gorgeous dimpled smile.
"Is it on Netflix?"
"It is."
"Want to watch it with me?"
And just like that it was one of the best nights of my life. It was so simple. We watched the whole thing together. Three hours and fifteen minutes worth of film and never once did he complain. He even complimented me, saying how he thinks I would look good with my natural ginger hair like Rose's. He even shed a tear, but I didn't laugh. There was nothing to laugh about, he was beautiful. He completely immersed in the story and it was perfect. There was something so intimate in two people crying over the same thing, a love story. I don't know if it's because I adore that movie, but sharing that with him and not being laughed at felt for me like the greatest moment of my life. For once, it felt so easy between Marcel and I and I wish we could have stayed in that moment forever.
We barely slept that night, we ate breakfast and left. We talked all the way through to London. Never had I seen him as chatty as he was. He told me all about his trip to Hong Kong and the culture difference. How he just loved being in a foreign environment, where he could be in his own world as the loner he is, always hidden in his books for his researches. He told me that it was then that his mother and him drifted more apart and that she started becoming harder on him at the office when he came back.
It broke my heart to get back in London, but I had to text Sophie on the way to let her know I was coming with all my stuff. She told me the boys were there to help. And they were. That's when I lost Marcel. He was back at being cold and slightly arrogant even.
But what gets me mad is how he didn't give me any news at all. Not a word since then.
***
He is the last person I expected. The blood freezes in veins as well as making my heart race. I get surprised how I physically react to seeing Marcel again. I haven't seen him since last week. He drove me to Sophie's on Saturday and we haven't talk since then, but I secretly know I ruined our relationship when I asked all these questions on where we stood together. I never got my answers and I convinced myself this week that I wasn't caring that much anymore. Seeing him in front of me, after six days apart makes me realise that I undeniably missed him. There's something about him that makes me swoon and I hate it. I hate it and I hate him. I hate him to be able to get to me that way.
"We know each other, Ed. She's the writer I am publishing."
"Oh yeah, you talked about her..." He murmurs, but I hear everything. He did?! It complicates yet again our relationship that has been not existent for the last week after I screwed everything. I ruined it before it was even something, a friendship.
I thought I was going to be having the night off to let loose and have fun, but he changed my plans. How am I going to think about anything else? I don't want to mix my personal life with my job... It's a bit too late for that, but I want to recover the most I can and be strictly professional with Marcel and nothing else, ready to forget everything that has happened in Manchester.
"It's a surprise to see you here." I tell him, even my tone sounds mixed between my emotions. I grab the charm hanging from my chain around my neck and toy nervously with it.
"I could say the same." He lets out and it gets me to frown, growing already sick of him. I am kind of glad to be mad at him, it makes it easier.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll get back to my friend and enjoy the show." I retort, trying to hide how bitter he made me become and I smile to Eddy. "It was nice to meet you. I can't wait to see you perform." I give a last glance at Marcel and start to turn away from him, when he reaches my arm.
It's sudden and hard, but his hand softens on me and it makes me remember what happened in Manchester. I can't get it out of my head. What the fuck happened? Why did he want to kiss me? Why did I let him? Why hasn't he been in touch this week? I face him again as he seems closer than he was.
"I am happy to see you." I think I hear him say.
I turn away and get out my arm out of his hand to join Sophie. Why did he say that to me? Was it to be kind? Did he mean it? What the fuck is going on?
Sophie looks at me a second. I try to smile to hide the mess I am making of myself but she narrows her eyes.
"Are you OK?"
"Marcel is here." I say and she quickly turns her head to look behind us in curiosity. "Don't look-"
I start to warn her, but it's too late. As I look at her looking at him, I catch a quick glimpse of him. Eddy is smiling, probably laughing and Marcel is looking directly at me and it scares the shit out of me. What is he thinking about?
Why am I fucking concerned about what he thinks about!?!
The more the show progresses, the more I think about nothing else than the music. I get excited every time Ash glances at me and it makes me let loose. Sophie starts to dance as the three last songs are her favourites. At one point, she takes my hand to make me move along with her. It's so easy to have a nice time with her. I really enjoy myself.
The band ends their set and bows to the crowd before running off the stage. They joins us with trepidation. They can't shut up and it fuels me with excitement. Ash takes my hand and we make our way back to their dressing room but Marcel comes to me and stops me before I get inside of the room.
"Grace, I want to talk to you." He says softly and I don't recognise him at all. He seems sad or something close to be disturbed and I tune down my arrogance towards him, but I am still not in the mood to deal with his rollercoaster of moods.
"This isn't really the best time, Marcel. You could have reached out all week."
"How? On your cell phone?" He arrogantly retorts, changing his moods and realises it, so he softens again after as he looks at me, but I really don't want to deal with him now.
"There are plenty other ways. You know where I live. I went to your office this week, but you weren't there. And I didn't even get an email. So you didn't try that hard to reach me." I shake my head and give him a last annoyed glance before turning my back to him, but he takes a hold of my hand again.
"How could you go behind my back like that?!" He says and it freezes everything inside of me.
I turn around and look at him. I am fuming, but he seems genuinely hurt and it is so unexpected that I frown and look thoroughly at him. His traits are not cold at all. His features are low and down, his eyes have never been so expressive. He suddenly seems so vulnerable that his eyes are like true windows to his soul, mirroring emotions like he has never expressed before.
***
Somehow, this morning, I got all emotional looking at my emails for maybe the twentieth time this week, hoping I would have some kind of news from Marcel, but I don't. I don't know how I got so emotionally involved with him to have me cry over him. Yes, I miss him, but it's more than that. We are partners. He is my publisher and he doesn't even reach out as that. Is my publishing deal over with him? I don't know. Maybe he has changed his mind. I don't think so, but I've waited all week to have some kind of news and I didn't.
This is so stupid. I am crying and being hormonal about my publisher as I don't even feel that way towards my broken relationship with Steeve. I have been boring myself to death this week, with no news on my story, no work to do, no classes to attend to. I have stayed between the four walls of my bedroom in Sophie's flat for five straight days, with occasional visit to Ash when I feel as depress as now and I need to change my mind. I feel kind of sad that Ash's only purpose for me this week has been to make me forget Marcel in every possible way, either emotionally or professionally. It makes me realise how pathetic I am and that I need to get a grip and own my life. I can't let men always dominate what I do and how I feel. It's like I willingly submit to them and let myself feel bad for them.
So I decide to take my life into my own hands and go directly to Wright Books headquarters to see him and get a clue on where we are and why the fuck hasn't he been in touch about my story.
I make my usual way there and I walk directly to the lift when hear my name being called.
"Grace?" I see Sophie say, but I am already on my way to the elevators, my blood boiling in my veins.
I wait for the doors to open and get in as well as with another woman I don't pay attention to. It only makes me realise how I must look. I wet my index fingers and wipe under my eyes to take away any smudge of mascara. I haven't even brushed my hair! Shit. I should have brushed my hair. I get out at a determined pace on my floor and the woman follows me to head to the secretary as I head straight to the large mahogany door. I don't even knock and barge in. I find the office empty and the woman walks to me and gently puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me.
"Are you looking for somebody, Miss?" She tells me as I look at her and her kind green eyes.
"No... I guess I must have made a mistake. I thought he would be here."
"Are you looking for Marcel?" She frowns at me as I just want to get out of this awkward situation.
"Yes... Do you know where he is?" I ask her as the more I scrutinise the details of her face, she seems familiar to me.
She doesn't look old, but the skin of her hands hints me that she is. Her brown hair is loose on her shoulders, a tailor made suit on with a gorgeous pencil skirt that shows the great shape she is in.
"He had to work on his thesis... But you are Grace Hemingway, aren't you?" She narrows her eyes at me and a slow smile draws on her lips. She lays out her hand for me to shake.
His thesis... I should have thought about that sooner before blaming yet again all my insecurities on him...
"I am..." I answer very uncertain to why she would know me, but I take her hand firmly.
"I am Edith Wright."
I am so stupid to not have realised that earlier. Their eyes. They are the same. I feel so bad to have made such an awkward first impression with her already. I am not clean, nor nearly presentable. I am mad and... it's just not the right moment. It's not only his Mum, but the editor in chief of this business.
"Enchanted to meet you. I wish it would have been under better circumstances." I let out and try to flatten my shirt to look more presentable than I am. She laughs and takes both of my shoulders into her hands before showing me the way into the office.
"Why don't we start getting acquainted by telling what my son has done again?!" She smiles at me as she jokes, but even though I am mad at him, his mum just made it seem like he isn't taken seriously.
I get a bit offended by that. My personal life with her son shouldn't be discussed. She should know how dedicated he is. She should finally see and understand all the respect and recognition her son deserves in her company.
But as I did with her son the first time we met, I stay quiet and keep my calm. This is not my fight and I would much rather discuss more beneficial topics with her.
I look down and shake my shoulder, brushing it off and lie. "We were supposed to meet here. I thought I was late." As I say that I realise how it makes me seem and I don't want for her to think I am irresponsible, so I quickly try to make a better impression. "I got lost, actually. I am not from here."
She smiles and frowns at me, taking a seat where Marcel has so many times behind the desk. She runs her fingers through messy piles of paper like it was the first time I was here. It was extremely clean every other time which hints me that he was in his Mum's mess when we met. It could have played in the little patience he had as he was looking for my story.
"It isn't your first time here, I hope. Hasn't it been a month since you have worked with Marcel?"
She still isn't looking at me, clearly too occupied to find whatever she is looking for.
"It isn't. I missed my tube station. I had to get out at the next one and find my way here." I frown at her as she finds a big pile of papers binded with an elastic from one of her drawers.
"Ah! There it is. It's actually very fortunate to see you here. I was actually going to write to you. I wanted to meet you. I am glad you barged in." She smiles at me, but somehow I am on the fence towards her, but I fake a smile.
Barged?! I question her choice of words towards me, but I fake a smile as I keep doubting her for some reason...
"You find me honoured then. I hope I could have made myself more presentable, having known..."
"Well, here we are." She smiles again, looking at me quickly before her attention is drawn to taking off that rubber band around the sheets of what I guess is my story. "Why don't you start by telling me what you have achieved in a month of work with Marcel."
Her green eyes suddenly pierce mine and I get very intimidated, my arrogance is leaving me slowly.
"We have done lots actually. We have agreed to take things slow since I was graduating and him as well, but we made lots of progress. We reviewed all the changes he wanted to make, on which I didn't agreed to all, but we established a very good relationship. It has been making our arguments smoother." I smirk to myself and look back up at her. I instantly freeze all the memories of us actually having fun together running through my head to be more professional with his Mum. "It is a real chance to work with him."
"Was it? Marcel isn't really the friendly type." She smirks back and I get surprised how his mum's view of him is tinted by how people look at him.
"We get each other, Mrs. Wright. It wasn't always easy, but he is passionate. I admire his work. I learned a lot with him."
"I know he is..." She smiles more warmly, but sighs as she sets back her eyes on the sheets in front of her. "Despite that, the work hasn't been done properly. He hasn't even made you sign a contract of exclusivity. Do you even know how much you will be paid?"
"No, it somehow never came up."
"I thought so... It's the first thing he was supposed to do, because now you could have gone to another publisher with all the changes you have made. Your book is practically perfect now and since the work is done, for most part, you could have gotten a better offer. The contract is the first thing you should have done, to sign it, and he didn't do it."
"With all your due respect, I don't want to go to another publisher. Marcel truly cares about my story and we are in this together. Never would I use him to do something like that..." I frown at her to be judging my character so quickly and negatively.
"I am happy you get along well. You are the first one to tell me so. It makes me proud." She smirks and gets papers in front of me and gives me a pen, but I don't pay too much attention to it.
"You should be proud of him. He has worked countless amount of hours for this company, for my story, and so little of his achievements are noticed. He even drove to Manchester -- where I live-- to make it easier for me. Name someone in your company that would drive the way from London to Manchester two times. That's dedication. That's heart. You should be proud, but not as a mum, but as an employer and give him the title he deserves." I let out, getting a bit caught up and I try to silently catch my breath, my heart racing in my chest to have confronted his mother that way.
"You don't know what you are talking about." She just says, being very cold, and not as smiley as she was. Marcel clearly didn't learned that from the neighbour.
"I know I don't, I am not pretending to. What I know, though, is what he has told me and what I have seen from him."
"And you think after a month you know him better than I do?"
I get very shocked and that's something I can't hide from my face. Wow... I shake my head in disbelief and try to compose myself to be diplomatic.
"I am not saying that either. I am just giving him the credits he deserves and I am asking you to do the same."
"If you are quite finished, let's get on with the formalities." She says to shut me up with an hypocritical smile as she points the details of the contract she wants me to sign. I don't know if I am more annoyed at her or if I was more annoyed at Marcel the first time we met... "If you sign here, here and here, it gives you five thousands pounds now as you give us the rights to your story. It also says that you'll get another five thousand when you'll hand us your final draft and the last forty thousand when it's released. It also engages you to a book tour around our partnered libraries in the country and in the United States. We are betting big on you. You will also get a percentage of the sells if your book becomes a bestseller in the UK."
"Why Marcel hasn't said anything to me about this?"
"Honestly, Marcel isn't really cut out for the business side of things. He has a great eye for talents and great stories, that's why I keep him there. I know my son's worth, Grace. I am just encouraging him where he excels."
The contract doesn't mention Marcel anywhere. It's the only thing that strikes me the most, the rest is just gibberish lawyer stuff.
"If I sign this contract in front of me, nothing will change? Marcel will still be the one publishing my book?"
"No, this contract is with me. Marcel was only replacing me until I came back from my surgery, he was acting editor, but now it's over."
***
"I didn't."
"You signed a contract with my Mum, Grace!" He lets out loudly and it somehow attracts Ash to us, because I feel his hand on my back as I look down at the hold Marcel still has of mine.
"Is everything OK here?" The drummer steps next to me and I see just how it changes Mace's mood instantly.
"It was before you showed up." He arrogantly spits out as if Ash had done anything to him.
"I'm fine. I was actually going to join you guys in a second." I smile to him quickly and he eyes quickly Marcel before he nods and walks away. "What did he ever do to you, Marcel? Why do you always grow cold when he is there?"
"We were not talking about that, but about the fact that you signed the contract." He steps closer, but not making himself dominant like I am used to, but he surprises me as he lowers his voice and he looks more thoroughly into my eyes.
It's intimidating me, but in a good way. I feel compelled to be calm and not lash out at him.
"I did, Marcel. I had to if I wanted to be paid someday." I try to make him understand my decision and go for it.
"So this is what it is all about, the money?" He frowns and seems to lose the vulnerability he has been showing me to trade it with anger.
"It isn't and you know that. You know me."
"I don't actually. I was wrong. I thought you were loyal and that we were a team."
"I am. We are."
"But you just betrayed me and signed the contract with my mother!"
"You don't understand! Have you talked with her?"
"I didn't need to when I saw your book and the contract on her desk in her office."
"Did you read it?"
"No, they are all the same. It isn't the first I come across, Grace. I am not that new to this."
"You should have. You wouldn't be shouting at me if you did."
"I am not shouting at you. I am hurt and betrayed right now." He gesticulates wildly and he finally looks down as he pushes his glasses back on the bridge of his nose, putting both of his hands on his waist.
"Hey..." I step closer and coo silently as a smile draws slowly on my lips. "I said you should have read the contract."
"I heard you."
"Will you stop being stubborn and listen to me?!" I exclaim, but still keep my cool, used to his cold side that it doesn't even bother me right now.
He finally looks up and our eyes meet again as his glasses are the only boundary between us. I swallow and carefully take a step closer to him.
"You and I are a team, no matter how fucked up we are. And there was no way I would ever want to work with anybody else." I smile shyly at him, struggling with how mad and giddy he can make feel at the same fucking time. "I demanded for the contract to be changed. I don't want to be published by your mum. So, I signed a contract where you are not only the acting editor, but the sole editor of my story."
"You what?" He steps back and frowns at me, trying to put all the puzzle pieces together.
"I challenged your Mum and she finally agreed to let you publish my story."
I smile brightly to him, hoping it would make him happy that I made literally his wish come true, but he just stands in front of me without saying a thing or doing anything else than looking at me.
The more I look at him looking at me, the more I lose my enthusiasm. It's like it doesn't affect him at all and I get disappointed and mad again.
"A thank you would suffice." I let out and roll my eyes at him as I am faced with his silence yet again, so I just decide to head back to my friends instead of letting Marcel bring my mood down.
How disappointing?! He is so ungrateful, it doesn't make any sense. It makes me feel very sad and betrayed. I did that for him, and how does he pay me back?!
I don't have the time to get to the door, ten feet away, when he takes me by the arm and hands me his phone. I don't even get the time to react that he brings his phone to my face. I frown at him and look at the screen. Ronnie. I let my friends by the door and look to find some place quiet to answer.
"Ronnie? Hi, how are you?" I answer and press my hand on my ear to quiet the sounds around me and hear her better.
"I'm... Fine. But I am... shaken, scared maybe too." She responds and I worry instantly about her, my heart pounding in my chest, looking around randomly. My sight sets on Marcel as he frowns at me.
"Ronnie where are you? What is going on?"
"Steeve just happened..."
"Steeve? Oh God, Ronnie what did he do? Did he-- did he hurt you? Tell me he didn't hit you..." I let out quickly, panicked, impatient for more answers.
"I'm at work and he just stumbled in, clearly tanked up, reeking of bourbon. He wanted to find your lover. It wasn't coherent at all. He didn't hit me, because George threw him out for me. He was aggressive, he kept calling you a whore, that you needed to be punished. I think he is on his way to you, Grace. He told something about his cousin. I have never seen him like that."
"Ronnie calm down... Breathe in and out slowly. I am OK, he isn't here. He can't be. When did that happen?"
"Half an hour ago, maybe. My hands are still shaking. He had just come out of the pub. So if he knows where you stay, don't go there tonight and don't be alone."
"I am not... Marcel is next to me right now..." I admit to her as I make eye contact with him again, being very imposant next to me, wanting to know what is going on. He's probably wondering why Ronnie called him to talk to me. She is lucky we indeed were together, because I wouldn't have known otherwise.
He is looking intently into my eyes, trying to listen, but there's an anger about him that surprises me. I get the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker mode between us. He comes closer and leans to hear better. I can smell his perfume...
"He talked about him." She continues, not knowing we can both hear her now.
"Who did? Steeve?"
"Yes."
"Why? They never even met..." I look up at him and frown very hard doubting that my ex would take his anger on someone innocent. Marcel has his jaw tightly clenched making his traits even more defined than it usually is.
"Well, judging by the bruises on his face, it's pretty clear they have and he wants to beat the shit out of him. I think Marcel is the lover he was talking about. He wants to find him."
"Thanks for calling me, Ronnie. Take care of yourself. I'll handle him if he finds me. Enjoy your Friday night and change your mind. I love you. I'll call you tomorrow." I hang up and give his phone back to be free to cross my arms on my chest as I frown to Marcel. "I think you owe me some explanations."
"He deserved it." He responds coldly as if he was ending this conversation and turns away.
"Don't fucking run away from me, Marcel Wright, and talk to me for once!" I shout at him, which makes him turn around to face me.
"I'm not talking about this here. This isn't the time or the place." He says softly, but with a tamed anger.
"Then, make it happen. I want my answers. He is coming and it might all be your fault, so before I face him, I want to know what happened."
"Are you fucking crazy?! There's no way I will let you face him."
"You'll have to keep me from it, because I don't want to be scared of him anymore. I thought I was done with him and you might have screwed that up." I let out harshly, piercing his eyes with mine as he looks as pissed as I am and I don't seem to understand why he would.
"Alright." He breathes out softly, keeping his cool, looking at me with arrogance. "We are leaving. If you want your answers, you are coming with me now or not at all."
I consider his offer, my eyes narrowed observing him and thinking this through.
"Give me a second. Don't you dare move." I warn him and make my way back to the dressing room.
Ash meets me in the corridor and adorably smiles widely at me, but I am too annoyed to even fake it. I get in the room and pick up my purse quickly as he questions me on what I am doing. I tell him about Steeve and ask him to take Sophie to their flat for tonight.
"I thought you were done with him." He exclaims as he follows me out and I make my way to Marcel. I stop a few feet away to have a little privacy still, but I feel his gaze on me, maybe I was looking for it. I am looking for it.
"I thought so too. I'm so sorry to leave you like this." I smile quickly to him and slide my hand down on his arm to take his hand. He brings it to his lips and kiss it. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Alright. Call me if you need me." He kindly says and takes me in his arms to hug me tightly.
"I will. Enjoy the show." I hurry to get back to Marcel and finally have my answers.
The second I turn away from Ash, I set my eyes on Marcel and don't leave him from sight until I walk past him. He follows me out without a word until we get outside in the dark alley of the back door. Some employees are there smoking cigarettes and it scares me a bit, making me back off of the confidence I had from my arrogance. I don't know where to go from here and I kind of freeze on place. Marcel walks right into me as I bump into his chest. He doesn't hesitate a second and takes me by the waist.
"Put your arm around me." He orders silently and pulls me forward, guiding the way.
"No. Why are you always asking me that?!" I let out as we turn the corner and meet lots of drunk people outside of bars.
"Just do it, please." He almost implores me and I don't question him, because I have never seen him looking at me so desperately.
"You'll have so many questions to answer!" I warn him.
"I'll answer them all, I promise, if you do as I say..."
I look into his eyes and I don't object. I oblige quickly as he guides us through the crowds of people on the sidewalk. We walk a long while and people are louder and drunker as we get closer to the tube station.
A draft of oddly smell comes to my nostrils and I frown, looking up at Marcel.
"Weed." He answers quickly and quickens the pace.
I get a bit more scared than I was. I am not used at all to these kinds of places, I am used to my little routine in Manchester. Seeing so many people shouting and drinking in the streets makes me incredibly uncomfortable. They are taking all the sidewalk space and I almost get hit by a guy that is being pushed by his friends in the street. Marcel pulls me closer to him.
"We're almost there." He tries to reassure me as we step away from the bars and the streets are becoming silent again. But as they are becoming silent, they are becoming darker as well.
Marcel takes his keys out of his pants and unlocks his doors from afar as I see the lights shining from across the street. We step onto the street and look both sides before crossing. That's when I see someone behind us, following us. I get a bit paranoid and hurry to my side of the car where I get in and lock my door in a rush, my heart racing in my chest. The tall man doesn't stop. He is coming straight to us. I panic. I look at Marcel, oblivious of the man coming to the car. His door is unlocked!
"Marcel, get in quick. Lock your door, lock your door!" I murmur to him loudly, clearly panicking as the man is definitely heading our way.
Marcel looks at me in panic, probably wondering what is happening, and obliges just in time to turn his head and see the man next to his window, bowing his hand in front of us. I freak out inside. What does he want!? But it doesn't take long for Marcel to ignite the contact and drive us away from that strange encounter.
"Oh my God... What was that? What did he want?" I let out silently, trying to catch my breath.
"I hate this part of town." He mumbles as I put a hand to my heart to feel just how wildly it's beating from how scared I was.
"What else will happen to us tonight?"
"It's OK, it will be OK..." He blurs out, driving fast into the streets of London, making our way back in the City.
We don't say anything else for the whole ride. I am still traumatised by that man at the window. Who was it? Did he want money? Directions? I don't know...
Marcel parks his car and makes his way to open my door. He offers me his hand to help me out and I don't refuse it. I take it and keep a big hold of it as I sneak my other hand higher on his arm to give me a bit of a feeling of safety. He locks his doors with the sound of his horn and gets us in a gorgeous white old building. We climb a few stairs and he unlocks a door.
I am a bit too disturbed by what happened in Camden to realise he has just brought me home, to his flat. His hand leaves mine to turn on every lights on his way. I stay in the hall, looking in, a bit blown away by how clean, bright and luxurious it is. It's a lot bigger than my flat, but it isn't that big. It's very neat and very welcoming. I instantly spot his shelves and all of his books. I am undeniably drawn to them, but I stay in the hallway without moving nor saying a word.
"Do you want tea? Tea will calm you down, I'll make tea." Marcel decides without waiting for an answer as he walks out of a room to head to the kitchen.
I slowly take off my boots and shyly make my way in. I look at Marcel grabbing two mugs and fill them with steaming hot water from his water distributor. He brings them to his living room next to the hall where I'm standing and he sets them on the coffee table.
"Come in, Grace. Take a seat. Would you like something else? Something to eat maybe? I think I have..." He talks to me and walks back in the kitchen to look through his fridge and his pantries.
I stand, being a silent witness of this little scene. Marcel is acting so strange. He isn't acting like himself at all. He is giving me all these little attentions and I am not used to that at all. I am very destabilised by his behaviour, but also very charmed. What is he doing?
"I have a bunch of things, but all vegan. I'm sorry... I have cookies, would you like some?"
Who is this person!?
"Thank you." I only reply and finally walk inside of his home and take a seat on the couch.
I bring my legs to my chest in a kind of fœtal position and keep my eyes on him. He seems troubled, clearly not himself, but, then again, this might be the most true to him I have ever seen. He is being vulnerable, not at all the collected person he always is. I like that. It's like he has no walls at all around him. It changes everything. I can't be mad at him. He is, maybe involuntarily, opening himself to me in ways he has never before.
.