Lena couldn’t believe that this was happening. Matt York from The Dead Weights was seriously asking her back to his tour bus. Honestly, she didn’t know if that was a good thing. She didn’t know if he was actually coming on to her, or if he just wanted to hang out, or what… but they were flirting, weren’t they? I mean, in a way they were.
“So… what happens if I lose?” she asked.
“Well… that depends.”
“On what?”
“On how you feel about this.”
The kiss came suddenly, uninvited… but probably wanted. She really didn’t know what to think about it, honestly. It had just happened, without giving her any time to decide. She would have refused of course—she was pretty sure, anyway. Wouldn’t she have? Of course, she would’ve, because it was the only decent thing to do. Kisses didn’t happen like this. They happened… in many other ways, of course. Perhaps this wasn’t the worst way, exactly… but… well, maybe this was a way, at least. Just not the preferable one. But it was nice—he was a really good kisser.
Before long, she realized that she had been kissing him the entire time she was debating whether or not she liked it. When that thought dawned on her, well, she became even more confused. Yet, she still held the kiss… which was very much beginning to feel very, very good. She would have to put a stop to this soon. That is, before she allowed more to follow. Ok… maybe just one more millisecond to make sure that was precisely what she wanted.
Finally, she managed to break the embrace. It wasn’t difficult to do. Matt wasn’t being pushy—just surprising is all. Yet as she sat there next to him, her breath sped up ever-so-slightly, she realized that she wished she could have held the kiss just a mere second longer.
“So. What do you say?” he started with a grin, “Do you feel like going back to my place?”
“Do we have to play your stupid game?”
“We always play games, my dear. That’s half the fun!”
“Ok, fine. But this isn’t… you know… I mean, we’re not gonna…”
“I would never!” he exclaimed, jumping up and feigning serious injury. “Why, the thought of taking advantage of such a delicate flower as yourself… it’s quite simply too much to bear!”
“Delicate flower, huh?” she feigned annoyance.
“Yes. A delicate flower. Besides, you’re not my type anyway.”
“Oh no?! And what is your type than?”
“I like simple women,” he said, pulling Lena to her feet, “groupies, for the most part. Dumb, skanky chicks that are in it for the money and nothing else.”
“Wait, you make a lot of money?”
“I sure do! And you can’t have a single red cent of it!”
“Oh,” she acted wounded. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to steal all of your fame, money and glory away from you?”
“Well…” he replied, rubbing his hands together, “why don’t you step into my office and we can see what I can do about it.”
As the two walked towards the tour bus, his hand slipped awkwardly into hers. She smiled to herself at this—it wasn’t just the hand-holding that made it feel right—no, it was definitely the hint of nervousness he barely exuded, but had let her in on. Soon enough, she was beaming visibly, and the many, many female onlookers that had turned to take notice couldn’t change that fact. If she were a more awful person, she would have almost enjoyed their glaring contempt as hearts broke right in front of her. Pure jealously, rife with hatred and laced with pain. Each one of those women desperately wanted to be her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t an awful person. Instead, she just felt exposed and wanted to disappear immediately.
Thank God the tour bus was only mere meters away. Then feet. Then finally inches, as Matt knocked on the side of the door. A face appeared, and then disappeared, only to be followed by the door opening.
“She’s with me, Jeff,” Matt said to the man on the other side—an utterly gigantic man with biceps the size of small planets.
“You got it, big man.”
“Jeff is our bouncer., Matt explained to Lena as they both stepped onto the bus. “In title only. He’s actually a huge pussycat—rolls a mean joint, good with the ladies. He’s also been playing Dungeons & Dragons since it first came out. The man is absolutely in love with Gary Gygax and hasn’t shut up about the Second Edition since it came out.”
“He seems nice.” she responded.
As Matt led her through the bus, she felt her own jealousy—this thing was utterly decked. It had bunk beds, a lounging area near the front, a shower, and separators for privacy. She felt famous just being on the thing, and couldn’t even imagine what it must have felt like to live on it for most of the year, “A girl could get used to this…” she mused to herself.
“He’s a pretty good dude,” Matt continued as he led Lena through the corridor. “Most of the guys on the bus are. But… the raddest guy by far on this beast is someone you have to meet.”
“Who’s that?” Lena asked pensively.
“He’s my manager. He is the craziest old guy you will ever know. I’ve been doing business with him forever, and now I feel like a part of his family. I think he’s gonna want to meet you. You two would really hit it off.”
“Oh… okay.” Lena said. She was interested, certainly, business opportunities and all that related nonsense; but if she was being honest with herself (and she most certainly wasn’t… nope, nope, nope!), she was far more interested in spending some ‘quality time’ with Matt and those lips of his. She had earned it, after all. Still, she didn’t want to be impolite.
“…and, right through here,” he said, as he opened up a sliding partition. “Miss Mad Bunny, I’d like for you to meet my manager, Mr. Marcus Collins.”
Sitting at a small table and sipping on a cup of coffee was a very comfortable-looking man. He looked to be between his late forties and early fifties, as evidenced by a noble smattering of wrinkles, and a well-manicured, gray beard. He was dressed in a plain white shirt with a plain black tie, plain gray sweater with a large, plain black overcoat. Yet, despite how very plain it all looked, it fit incredibly well. It was expensive, in a purposeful sort of light. And he emanated a purposeful aura as well. It was trustworthy, friendly, yet driven in an elderly sort of way. His eyes were both gentle and intense as they focused on her, yet they were constantly scanning as his face widened into a warm smile.
“Ah, Madeline Dangerbunny, is it?” the man said in near-perfect German, standing to offer her a hand.
“That’s what they call me, yes.” she replied awkwardly, as she reciprocated the gesture.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you! We’re all big fans here… Matt most of all, of course. He talks about you constantly.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” she blushed.
“Where are my manners though?” he said, as he rubbed his hands together. “Would you prefer coffee, beer or something harder?”
“Coffee, please,” she replied.
“Coming right up, ma’am. Oh, do make yourself comfortable!”
As he moved over into the corner where an empty coffeepot awaited, he set to the task of making it.
“Oh, you don’t…” Lena reacted, but she was cut off by Mr. Collins.
“Oh, it’s no problem at all. You are our honored guest—it’s only proper we welcome you to our humble home here. Do you take sugar or cream?”
“Black… just black,” she replied, awkwardly sitting down in one of the corner seats.
Matt joined her, sitting across from her. Strangely, he seemed to be sitting as far away from her as the position of the chairs would allow. He hunched forward, with his arms crossed across his chest, and placed his forehead against the table. Suddenly, all the energy seemed to leave him. Like a butterfly molting in reverse, Matt’s decomposition culminated into an expression much like Lena’s. Actually, it was freakishly similar.