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TEGAN
I spend the day in Paris alone, ignoring the romantic couples and large tourist groups. After a full-on day scaling the Eiffel Tower followed by a trip to the Louvre, I stopped for coffee and pastry at an overpriced café. I’m in one of the great cultural capitals in the world, a city filled with history and tradition and fulfilling another dream. I want to visit as many European capital cities as I can and touring with Blue Phoenix offers me that opportunity. The day is a reminder why I’m on tour.
When I return from my excursions, Bryn approaches and asks if I’m interested in going out with the band tonight. Following a day cramming in as many Parisian highlights as I could, I’m excited he’s inviting me somewhere exclusive with the guys. ‘Parisian’ conjures up images of small shops lining cobbled streets, art galleries, and cafes, romance and aestheticism.
When Bryn tells me where the band is heading, I despair.
“Hard Rock Cafe? Seriously?” I ask.
Bryn rests against the wall outside my suite, arms crossed. “Yeah. Security is decent there and we’re given a VIP room. I’m not keen on overpriced joints and so-called gourmet food so this suits me.”
“But we’re in Paris, Bryn!”
“And?”
“You might’ve visited here a hundred times, but it’s my first. I thought you’d take me someplace nice.”
“Me? You keep telling me to back off, why would I take you out?”
I pout because he’s right. “Whatever.”
“You’re such a kid sometimes!”
“And you’re such a miserable bugger!”
Bryn gives a small shake of his head and leans toward me, his curls dipping into his eyes. “Whatever,” he mimics.
“Maybe I’ll find somebody to take me somewhere nice!” I retort and cross my arms.
“Such as who?”
When I first returned to the hotel and Bryn asked to see me, I prepared myself for the possibility Jax may’ve carried out his flippant threat to tell Bryn about us. A tiny part of me is disappointed when Jax clearly hasn’t. Again, look at how stupid I am having romantic notions about a man who I’m damn sure only wants my clothes on the floor with his.
Bryn’s expecting me to say Jax, so I say nothing.
* * *
The VIP room of the Hard Rock Cafe holds an odd mix of history and modernity. The corniced pink ceiling contrasts the glass and chrome cases holding guitars and rock memorabilia, red leather stools match the drapes and carved-wood panelling. Blue Phoenix is the first to arrive, heading to the venue before word gets out about the bands’ activities for the night.
“Who else is coming tonight?” I ask Bryn.
“No idea. The usual, I suppose. Don’t really pay attention.” He’s dressed to fit his environment and hasn’t changed out of the well-worn black jeans and Foo Fighters t-shirt he wore earlier. Sophistication isn’t in Bryn’s fashion guide.
The tension around him remains and I resolve to dig the reason why out of my big brother. I have my suspicions why there’s an edge of sadness to Bryn’s presence, and I’m not happy somebody’s screwed around with his feelings. Bryn loves hard and completely; he deserves somebody who’ll do the same in return.
Dylan and Sky are already ensconced at one of the tables toward the back of the room. Jem and Ruby are with them too. The two men chat, but Ruby focuses on her phone while Sky studies the menu.
No Ruby Riot boys yet.
I’d love to have been a fly on the wall when Ruby Riot had their meeting today about Ruby’s baby and the band’s future plans, but even I’m not crass enough to probe the issue. I asked Bryn if he knew how the meeting went and he dismissed the fuss, more focused on his amusement that Jem’s going to be a dad. I wonder how the twins reacted to Ruby’s news.
Ruby’s pale again, not helped by her choice of dark clothes. I’ve come to the conclusion her edginess isn’t rudeness, but an inability to perform social norms, a trait she shares with her boyfriend. Jem doesn’t give me a second look as we approach, but tips his head at Bryn in a silent greeting.
Bryn pulls out the seat for me at the table, and I make a comment about his gentlemanly gesture as I sit. Ignoring me, he takes his place next to Jem and slings an arm across the back of his chair.
I set my phone on the table and pick up the menu too. “Awesome! Burgers! How very French and sophisticated,” I say and pull a face at my brother.
Sky laughs and points at a picture. “French fries?”
