𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

𝕲𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

I was perched on the couch, anxiously awaiting Georg's return. He had driven Kath to the train station and then rushed to help Tom bring Bill home from the hospital so he could continue his recovery in his own house. Suddenly, my phone rang, and with each ring, my face drained of color.

I cautiously answered, sensing that something had gone wrong again. "Georg? Is everything alright? Where are you?"

"I'm on my way. Pack a bag; you'll be staying with Bill," he declared abruptly. "What? No. Why?" I questioned, confused. "I'll explain on the way. Just get ready," he replied before ending the call.

I rose from the couch, muttering curses under my breath. Where would I leave my cat? Should I take her with me? How long would I even be staying there?

Gathering a few essentials and some clothes, I placed Bee in her 'travel' bag and headed out to where Georg was already parked, waiting for me. "So?" I queried as I settled into the car. "What's going on?"

"What?" he seemed unfazed. "Why do I have to stay with Bill?" I pressed on.

"Tom, Gustav, and I are heading to America again. Bill's accident resulted in some broken contracts regarding the US tour, so we need to sort that out," he explained.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I inquired, still not satisfied with his explanation. "Bill needs constant supervision, so someone has to stay with him," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why doesn't Tom stay home?" I suggested, finding it quite logical. "Because we need Tom in America," he responded bluntly.

"But why not hire a nurse?" I persisted. "Because this tour has already cost us a lot, and with the broken contracts, we can't afford extra expenses. We have you to help, so why would we hire a nurse?" he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But what if I'm busy?" I continued to challenge him, perhaps I shouldn't have.

"As far as I know, you're a jobless college dropout who spends her time drinking, partying, and screwing Tom, so you don't really get a say in this," his words were sharp, delivered with a hint of anger.

He was furious. I had seen him like this before, but he had never directed his anger toward me and had always been patient. Yet, deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe I deserved it, even if it wasn't all completely my fault.

"Alright, I'm sorry that my boss died and I dropped out of school because I don't want to get groped by a bunch of your fans every damn morning," I murmured quietly, hoping my words would penetrate his anger. I noticed a slight softening in his gaze, but he remained silent as we pulled into their driveway. I wasted no time in grabbing my bags and darting inside.

Maybe I should have thought this through more carefully. Bill was sprawled out on the couch, with Tom seated opposite him in the armchair. The tension in the room was palpable.

He knew.

"Fuck my life," I whispered to myself. Everyone seemed to hate me here, except for my so-called 'fans' and Tom, whom I desperately hoped to avoid until he returned. I wasn't prepared to have a conversation about 'us'. However, I wished Bill would talk to me; otherwise, it would be uncomfortably quiet in this house until the band returned.

As Gustav wished me luck with Bill before departing, Tom shot me a naughty glance. Left in Tom's spot opposite Bill, I felt incredibly uneasy. It seemed like Bill was mentally plotting the best ways to exact revenge on me.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, struggling to come up with a conversation starter. "So, uhm," I cleared my throat nervously. "How are your ribs?" I asked awkwardly, hoping to break the ice. He appeared irritated by my question. "Painful," he grumbled, his gaze still piercing into my soul. "Are you hungry?" I asked, desperate to escape his intense stare.