Flesh & Bone - a contemporary romance: The Minstrel Series #2 (2 page)

A girl with short, dark hair bounced out of her seat, and within seconds Eva was forgotten. She took advantage of the swirl of commotion that occurred between acts, grabbing her guitar and cane, and limped to the entrance.

It was a terrible mistake to come, she thought as she hobbled down the crusty street. She kept her head bowed low against the cold, and gripped her guitar case and her cane. If she'd had a third hand, she'd swipe at the bitter tear that slid down her cheek.

Sebastian Weiss wrapped the oversized pillow around his ears in a vain effort to block out the pounding on his locked hotel room door. His head throbbed and his mouth felt like sandpaper. He released a slow, low groan. “Go away!”

“Sebastian!” Karl called from the hallway. “The bus is waiting. Get your ass in gear!”

Sebastian tossed the silky pillow across the room and worked the sleep out of his eyes. The bright light that seeped in from the crack in the curtains was like a torch to his eyeballs. He blindly grasped for the hotel phone on the nightstand and somehow managed to punch the numbers for room service.

“Orange juice and coffee. A whole carton of juice and a full carafe of coffee.” He'd learned he had to be specific. The first time they'd arrived with a tiny glass and cup of each, and he had to suffer needlessly for another twenty minutes before the service returned with what he needed.

He popped a couple pills and downed them with the stale water in a glass by the phone. He gave them two minutes to kick in then stumbled to the shower. The coffee and orange juice would be waiting in the hall when he was finished.

He dug the last clean T-shirt out of his suitcase and pulled on the jeans he'd worn for the last two days. His room service order waited for him in the hall, and he pushed it inside. He downed the juice in several gulps, breaking once or twice to breathe. This was followed by a swig of coffee; he poured the rest into his travel mug.

At this point in his routine, Sebastian started to feel normal again. Like a computer reboot. He'd come alive on the bus, and by the time they hit the next city, he would be high again—on adrenaline and other things—ramping up for their next concert.

Dirk, their manager, was in the lobby checking out the band when Sebastian arrived. He raised a brow over black plastic-rimmed glasses. “Just in time,” he said. “The others are already on the bus.”

Sebastian pushed his sunglasses on his face. The brightness of the sun streaming through the windows shot pain to the back of his head. He winced as he exited the hotel and quickly handed his bags over to Florian, the bus driver.

“Next stop, Hamburg!” Florian shouted, and Sebastian winced again as the driver's booming voice made his head feel like someone was trying to rip it off. He climbed on board and took a seat near the front. Karl spotted him and moved up to the empty seat behind him.

“Three more dates, Sebastian, and this tour's over. Time flies.”

Sebastian nodded. “I still can't believe we're actually doing this.” Touring with his band, Hollow Fellows, had been a dream for so long that he'd lost heart in the pursuit. Funny how things tended to take off once you'd given up the chase.

Karl raked a hand through long, stringy hair. “The gig in Hamburg is being televised! A year ago, I never would've imagined this could happen. But here we are, on our own tour bus, giggin' in front of the cameras. On freakin' TV!” He patted Sebastian on the shoulder. "We're doing it, Seb. We're actually doing it!”

Hollow Fellows' hit song, “What Drives Me,” had catapulted up the German radio charts over the past half year surprising everyone. It was the song he'd co-written with Katja Stoltz-Sturm. That was a lucky impromptu decision on his part, agreeing to do the songwriting session with Katja. Both of them were unknowns then. Sebastian rubbed his eyes and sighed. He hadn't written a song since.

Maybe when the tour ended, and he saw Yvonne again... maybe she'd inspire him.

A nagging truth stirred his gut. He wanted to blame life on the road and the alcohol and the ongoing fight he and Yvonne seemed to be engaged in for his writer's block. But he knew the truth.

He chugged back a sip of coffee and shook his head forcing himself to push those old, black memories away. Nothing good could come from dredging that up.

Nothing good.

Eva ran a finger along a thick, pink scar that zipped up her right leg from just above her knee to the top of her thigh. Normally, she never paid it any attention. It was just a part of who she was, who she had been for the last five years. But now, as she got ready for bed, she stood in front of the mirror and examined it.

It was ugly.

She stopped asking God why this had happened to her long ago. There was no satisfying answer. No answer at all, actually.

The bedroom door flew open and Eva quickly tugged her nightdress down as Gabriele breezed into the room they shared. Gabriele kept promising to move out, but she still hadn’t. She had to finish her studies at the university first. Eva felt guilty for wishing her sister gone.

Instead of her usual nightshirt, Gabriele stepped into a tiny little blue and white dress.

“Where are you going?” Eva asked as she watched Gabriele struggle with the zipper at the back.

“Can you get this?”

Eva stood and waited for Gabriele to scoot over to her. It was just faster that way, and Gabriele was always in a hurry. It was a habit they’d formed since the accident. Gabriele always came to Eva.

“Lennon’s taking me out for a late dinner. It’s our one year anniversary!”

“Already?” Or should she say,
Is that all?
Lennon had been hanging around so much the last few months, he’d become part of the furnishings.

“Yes, and we’re going to a really fancy place in the
Altstadt
.” Gabriele floated to the spot in front of the mirror Eva had just vacated and applied hair product to her short bleach-blond hair. Her natural color was the same as Eva’s, an ordinary brown, and up until a year ago, just before Lennon, Eva recalled, she wore it long, too.

Gabriele started in on her makeup attacking green eyes (another trait she shared with Eva) with several layers of mascara, and then her full lips with a tube of red. She smacked them together and said with a little squeal, “I think he wants to talk about marriage.”

“What? Really?” Yay! Gabriele just got that much closer to leaving home. “That’s terrific!”

“Yeah, I’m really nervous.” Gabriele selected a pair of white, patent leather stilettos and slipped them on. She spread her arms wide and faced Eva. “What do you think?”

“You’re beautiful.” It was the truth. Gabriele had a tall, waif-like, fashion model look and the exuberance to go with it. Eva could barely believe they were sisters. Nobody could, really. Apart from their identical green eyes, they were nothing alike.

Eva put on her robe, collected her cane and followed Gabriele out into the living room where their parents joined in with her sister’s excitement.

“You look wonderful,” their mama said.

Papa sat on the chair facing the TV, and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Gabriele. “Isn’t that dress a little short?”

Gabriele laughed. “Oh, Papa. You’re so old-fashioned.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, and Papa’s faux frown broke into a smile.

The door ringer buzzed, and Gabriele danced over to let Lennon in. They could hear his footsteps as he made his way to the second floor. He barely had a chance to tap on the door of the flat when Gabriele flung it open.

Lennon wore fashionable jeans and a form-fitting button-down shirt. He wore his dark hair combed back behind his ears, and he had a slight shadow on his chin. He was average height standing eye to eye with Gabriele when she wore high heels. Eva always considered Lennon to be handsome, the only kind of guy that would fit beside her sister, but tonight he was really handsome. And he’d brought her flowers.

Gabriele accepted them, and then they spent long moments taking each other in, their eyes bright with affection. Eva couldn’t keep from staring. What must it be like to be in love like that?

“Wow.” Lennon shook his head subtly like he couldn’t believe his good fortune. “You look gorgeous.”

Gabriele blushed and giggled. Papa cleared his throat.

“Herr Baumann,” Lennon said, looking up. “Good evening. And to you, too, Frau Baumann.”

They engaged in polite banter while Gabriele put her flowers in a vase. Then the pretty couple left, and it was like a vacuum had sucked the sunshine out of the room.

“So, Eva,” Papa finally said. “You can do the music for the lunch service on Sunday?”

Eva sighed. “I always do it. Why can’t Gabriele?” Her sister was also an accomplished guitar player and a great singer. Unfortunately. For a while, Eva thought she might have one thing that set her apart from the sister who had everything, but soon after Eva started playing the guitar seriously, Gabriele decided she would, too, and quickly demonstrated that they had both inherited musical genes from their mother’s side.

“Ah,
Schatz,”
Papa started. “You know Gabriele.”

That was all he said. Gabriele had made it clear that, though she respected their parents’ call into the ministry, she had no interest in the street church. Mama could play the keyboard and sing like an angel, but she spent her time overseeing the kitchen, so the task of providing music had landed on Eva. There were others who could do it, and sometimes Eva asked for help, but the truth was, she didn’t really mind. It just bothered her that Gabriele had so much, and yet so little was required of her.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

Papa grunted as he lifted himself from his chair. “I’m going to review my sermon notes,” he said as he left for his office. Mama had already retreated to her room where she liked to spend the evenings reading. Eva turned on the TV, flipped through the channels, then yelped.

Sebastian Weiss was on TV! She pulled her robe tighter and leaned forward. He was with his band, Hollow Fellows, playing live in Hamburg.

Eva’s heart rattled in her chest as the camera zoomed in on Sebastian’s face. His eyes were closed and he belted out the words with such emotion and intensity. Then he opened them and stared into the camera. It was like his warm hazel eyes were looking right at her!

She couldn’t believe she’d once sat in the same room as him. A year ago at the Blue Note before he was famous. She’d been fascinated with him ever since, nursing a schoolgirl-type crush that only she and God knew about, and she had followed his rise to stardom with dedication.

He lived here, in the
Neustadt
area of Dresden. They were practically neighbors! It’d become a habit for her to stay alert to a possible Sebastian Weiss sighting when he was off tour. She hadn’t seen him since that fateful open mic night, though she had spotted the girl he was with once. Eva wondered if they were still together.

Not that it mattered. In real life Eva didn’t exist. She was a shadow. An echo.

But in her dreams she was… well, she was Gabriele. And Lennon was Sebastian Weiss.