Reinvent love | Ryden | ENG

29

Ryan pov

I cross another city off my list. It's getting closer and closer to going home. At first I was enthusiastic about touring because I could finally share my music with the world, but with each passing day I don't want to continue it. This whole Europe is somehow strange. It's unusually cold here for November. People speak some strange, incomprehensible languages. And the fans? I don't know if they don't understand what I'm saying or if it's typical for them to scream instead of answering the artists' questions. It's a good thing that Tony Berg didn't insist on one-on-one meetings with fans and decided that if someone wants an autograph they have to buy one of the signed posters or an exclusive version of the album in the store located at the entrance to the venue.
- Ryan, are you ready? - Tony asks.
- Yeah, yeah. - I turn away from the mirror and put on my denim jacket with feathers.
Berg hands me a guitar and a microphone.
- Come on, Ryan! - he says and gives me a friendly pat on the back.
I smile at him and walk out onto the stage.
- Welcome to Warsaw! - I say hello and all I hear is squeals.
As always I start with "Lonely Moonlight" and with every song I feel more and more confident on stage. This time I even allow myself to joke a little with the audience. The time to end the show comes to an end faster than I expected.
As the venue empties, the crew starts to hide the equipment.
- You were truly brilliant, Ryan. I'm incredibly proud of you. - Berg hugs me tight. - Go with security to the bus, they'll drop you off at the hotel so you can rest. You deserve it. - He adds.
- Thanks. You are the best manager. - I reply and take my book of poetry from the table.
Once again I return to Rimbaud and "A Season in Hell".
- Just be careful! - I hear him call out.
The door closes behind me. Security escorts me to the bus and then from the bus to the hotel. Tired, I take a quick shower and get into bed. I rub my eyes and adjust the pillow under my head. Today I let myself skip reading poetry in the evening.

- - -

The first sun rays of a cold November morning fall through the window. I stretch out on my bed and look at my watch. It's already after 8 AM. I get up and start to get ready to go. Ahead of me are the last two cities and the last two concerts before break.
- Oh, Ryan. Are you awake yet? - Berg asks as he walks into the room.
- As you can see. - I say and close my suitcase. - I'm ready to go, I just need something to eat.
- Sure. The tourbus leaves at ten. Don't be late. - He takes the suitcase from me and leaves.
I sit down on the bed for a moment and take the book of poetry in my hand. A picture falls out of the middle. I pick it up and smile to myself. The photograph shows me and Brendon back in the days of Pretty Odd. I was a damn lucky guy back then, but I couldn't appreciate it. I put the photo in the book. I take my wallet with my documents and phone from the table and leave. Breakfast, included in the price, is already waiting for me at the hotel bar.
I confidently cross the threshold of the bar. Elizabeth is already sitting at the table with her father and Nick. Tony had chosen them as support and there was no way I was going to protest. Berg prefers to keep an eye on his daughter and future son-in-law so he doesn't become a grandfather too soon. Though in my opinion, it would be the right time. Z and Nick are already in their thirties and the longer they wait, the less chance they have of starting a family. And Tony, after all, won't be young forever.
- Ryan, sit down! I already ordered coffee, cheese toast and a vegetable salad for you. - Z says enthusiastically.
- Thanks. - I take the seat between Tony and Nick.
A moment later the waitress brings our breakfast. We eat while talking about the tour. Z, as always, raves about France and Paris because it's so romantic, and Nick says he prefers rainy London because at least he doesn't have to walk around the city and take pictures of Elizabeth against the sights.
- And where did you like it best, Ryan? - asks Tony after he finishes his speech about the advantages of Venice.
- Me? At home. - I reply, and everyone at the table bursts out laughing. - What? - I look at them surprised.
- Yeah, that's Ryan... The antisocial gnome who just wants to stay home. - Z chuckles and takes a bite of her toast.
- But you must have liked something on the tour... - Tony turns to the subject.
- I don't care, most of these European cities look the same. - I reply and take a sip of coffee. - But if I had to decide, I'd say Spain was good. At least it was warm. - I add.
- Well, yes. Besides being antisocial, he doesn't like the cold. - Nick laughs.
- Does Ryan even like anything? - interjects Z jokingly.
- Yeah, my dogs and poetry. - I say and shove the last piece of toast into my mouth.
When the jokes about me are no longer funny, we go back to talking about other things before it's time to go on our way.

- - -

The next city we visit is Prague. Since we arrived yesterday, the evening before the concert, Tony takes us on a tour of the old town. Just wonderful.
I walk slowly, looking around, but the skyline is hardly different from other cities I've visited.
Z and Nick forced me to take a few photos "on Instagram". Again, this technology, social media, and all the rest of the unnecessary silliness.
Around 1 PM we pop into a small local restaurant for something to eat. We sit down at a table of four and order a meal, not even knowing what's behind the specific names.
- And I'll have... - I'm trying to read these strange signs on the menu.
- Maybe you want the English menu? - asks the waitress.
Of course! We could have asked for it right at the entrance.
- Yes, please. And for my friends too. - I answer.
When we get the English menu, it turns out what is what. I order fries, something called a Czech roll and a Coke to drink. Z says that her intuition didn't fail her and asks for what she wanted to order before not knowing what it is. And Nick and Tony decide on the dish of the day, which is roasted chicken thighs and fries. The waitress, after taking our order, leaves us alone. Nick looks around the restaurant. He's a little nervous.
- Excuse me, I'm going to go find the restroom. - He gets up from the table and disappears behind a pillar.
- Is it just me or is Nick a little weird today? - I ask.
- Maybe so, but you are weird today too. - Z says. - Somehow you're unusually talkative. - she adds.
I notice that the photographer Tony hired for the tour is sitting at a table behind a large plant. He could join us. A moment later I notice the man pulling a camera out onto the table. At that moment, everything comes together for me. Nick wants to propose to Z! I almost say it out loud, but realize I can't spoil the surprise. Well, it's not a sure thing.
Nick returns to the table. I notice that he is nervously rotating in his fingers the strings from the braided bracelet he has on his wrist.
A moment later the waitress appears with the dishes we ordered. She puts them in front of us and wishes us good food. We eat in silence. Being with each other practically all day, we have exhausted the topics.
We are finishing eating lunch when an orchestra comes into the room and one of the waiters hands Nick a large bouquet of roses. Hinman gets down on one knee in front of Z and with his free hand pulls an engagement ring out of his pocket.
- Elizabeth Anne Berg, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? - he asks, looking intently at the one in his heart.
- Yes, yes, yes! - She leans towards him and kisses him tenderly on the lips.
Nick hands her the bouquet and grabs her other hand to place a beautiful gold and diamond ring on her finger.
All the restaurant guests stand up and clap. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tony wiping away a single tear.
- I'm so happy to see my little girl get engaged to someone like you, Nick. - Berg says, walking closer to the lovers. - Let me hug you both!
When the excitement subsides, I congratulate them on their engagement. I've known for a long time that they were made for each other.
Berg makes a phone call to our team to make sure everything is ready, and being reassured that we'll make it, he orders a slice of cake and a glass of champagne (non-alcoholic for me). We celebrate this very important moment and the orchestra continues to play.