74. Come up with a plan

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Bas walked over and took a seat at our table. The tension was palpable, but it felt like a crucial moment in our attempt to reunite Bill and Elise. Gustav initiated the conversation, his gaze fixed on Bas. "How is Elise, Bas?"
Bas sighed, his gaze still downcast. "She's shutting down, just like Bill. It seems like both of them are stuck in their own worlds, and I don't know how to get them out."
"Damn," muttered Georg, his gaze on his empty glass. It was evident that the situation affected us all.
Bas rubbed his face for a moment and then looked at me. "We really need to do something, guys. This can't go on. They need each other, even if they don't want to admit it right now."
I felt the urgency of the situation and decided to put forth my proposal. "I agree with Bas. We need to find a way to get them talking again. They need to express their feelings and break through this impasse."
Bas looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Exactly, Tom. But how do we go about it? They seem so distant from each other."
Gustav pondered for a moment and then said, "Maybe we need to force them into a situation where talking is the only option. Some kind of 'emotional confrontation.'"
Bas nodded slowly. "Yes, that could work. But how do we get them to that point?"
Leaning back in my chair, I mulled over the possibilities. "What if we come up with a plan to bring them together, sort of lock them up a bit, so they have to talk? It might sound drastic, but if we do nothing, it seems like they're growing apart."
Georg looked thoughtful. "And what if they don't want that? It might only make them angrier."
Bas smiled reassuringly. "I know Elise. She'll understand that we have her best interests at heart. And for Bill... sometimes we have to take risks."
Gustav thought for a moment and then nodded. "Let's give it a try. We don't have many other options."
I looked at Bas and smiled. "Alright, let's craft a plan. We'll bring them together, lock them in, and hope that the spark ignites naturally."
We started exchanging ideas, partly serious and partly humorous, to ensure that Bill and Elise would confront each other. It ranged from subtle hints to more direct approaches. We didn't want it to feel forced, but we understood that something had to happen.
"Okay, let's do it," Bas finally concluded. "We'll arrange a setting where they have no choice but to talk to each other. And if it doesn't work, at least we've tried our best."

The next day began with a mix of nerves and excitement. Our plan to reunite Bill and Elise was taking shape, and I felt the pressure of expectations on my shoulders.
We simply wanted Bill and Elise placed in a room where they couldn't avoid talking to each other. My role was to lure Bill into an empty dressing room by pretending to have lost my cap. Bas would pull the same trick, not with a cap, of course, with Elise. Once they were inside, the door would close behind them, and then it was a matter of hoping for the best – that the seclusion would encourage them to honestly talk to each other and bridge that gap between them.
With those thoughts in mind, I made my way to Bas's hotel room. The hotel corridors were quiet, but my footsteps sounded louder than ever. I knocked on the door and waited for his signal to enter.

Bas opened the door, and I was immediately taken aback by the pale color on his face. His eyes, usually full of energy, now looked dull and weary. "Excuse me," he mumbled, and without saying anything else, he stormed into the hotel room and straight into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him.
I stood momentarily stunned in the hallway, my concern growing with every passing second. The sound of retching seeped through the closed bathroom door, and I couldn't help but watch helplessly. It was clear that Bas wasn't feeling well, and I wanted nothing more than to help him.
"Everything okay in there?" I called, hoping his answer would be reassuring. Instead, my words were drowned out by more unpleasant sounds from the bathroom. It was painfully clear that Bas wasn't physically well.
I waited for a moment, hoping the sounds would subside, but they persisted. With a concerned furrow on my brow, I took a deep breath and decided to take action. "Bas, do you need help?" I called into the bathroom, slowly approaching the door.
A faint voice from inside the bathroom responded, "No, it'll pass." But the tone left little room for reassurance.
It quickly became evident that today wouldn't be the day to execute our plan. With a sigh, I grabbed my phone and immediately dialed David. We had a performance tonight, but it was crystal clear that Bas wouldn't be able to stand on stage.

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