The Origin of My Dreams

Chapter 13

Vladimir rushed past the people on the bridge, trying to get his mind off the last three hours of terror. He forgot how much he really hated flying. As soon as he made it out of the gate, he rushed to the bathroom.

Vlad stood at a sink, desperately holding back the urge to vomit or pass out. The lights here made a stingy noise that made his head ache. He could feel his head swaying. He could barely acknowledge the ground beneath him. Vladimir took in a deep breath. He was alright. Mostly.

He kept his composure while walking to the luggage carousel, systematically avoiding his drowsy brother. Vladimir was standing towards the beginning of the carousel. He absent-mindedly was going up and down on his heels.

An announcement in French came on over the intercom. It repeated in several languages that Vladimir had picked up over the years. The voices droned on and on, mixing in with the relieved chatter of passengers. A loud beep brought Vladimir back to Earth, and the carousel started to bring various forms of luggage forth.

After skipping past what seemed like hundreds of black luggage, Vladimir finally found his and strode out of the terminal. He caught a cab and said, "Hôtel de Paris, s'il vous plaît." (A/N I apologize for my Google Translate French and a made up hotel that probably exists somewhere)

The drive was pleasant. The early summer in Paris was beautiful. In the distance, Vladimir could make out a piece of the Eiffel Tower, however it was almost immediately obscured by a old building. On his way to the hotel, he found it easier to calm himself. The chauffeur was silent, the quiet hum of the automobile becoming calming.

The interior of the hotel was breathtaking. Vladimir forgot how high-end the Great 8's accommodations were. He was so glad he didn't have to pay for this, a day here would be a week's rent in his small apartment in Bucharest. Eventually Vladimir came to the front desk, feeling out of place in his jeans and hoodie combo he had going on.

He cleared his throat, "Je suis ici pour la réunion." Vlad said in his best French. (I am here for the meeting.)

"La réunion?" The front desk lady replied. She fit in well with the atmosphere. Posh, sofisticated, slightly stuck-up, it was all too fancy for Vladimir's taste. (The meeting?)

"Vous savez la-" (You know the-)

"Ah, Vladimir! I am zo glad you made it!" he was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Francis!" Vlad exclaimed "You are certainly a very good sight!"

Francis chuckled, moving toward the Romanian, "I zee you made it alright, even vith your questionable French! Come, I vill lead you to your room!" Francis leaned over the counter to grab a room key, apologizing to the "ever so gracious" lady at the front desk. Then, Vladimir followed Francis into the elevator, always keeping two steps behind the Frenchman.

"So, who else has arrived?" Vlad said, desperately trying to make conversation before Francis mistook the awkward silence for sexual tension.

"Alfred is here, zhough I think he left to get lunch. And Ludwig got here a day earlier zhan everyone else, as usual." Vladimir listened to the names that he could match to faces. There were few nations he knew well. All these people, they were just like him, just better at it. Vladimir personally never liked the concept of immortality, always considering it a curse that he had to bear. Sometimes, he forgot he wasn't so completely alone. "Vladimir."

"Hm?"

"Are you even liztening to me?"

"O-oh? Yes- yes! Sorry, I think I just blanked out for a moment." Francis burst into his deep laughter once again. Vladimir burned with embarrassment.

"It's fine! Zhe look on your face! Ha! Do not worry, my friend! It happens to zhe best of us." Vladimir smiled with relief. The elevator chimed and the doors opened. "At last we are here!" Vlad followed Francis through the well decorated winding halls, dragging his suitcase behind him. At last, Francis stopped in front of a door. "Here you are. If you need anything- just call me." He said with a wink, tossing the room key to the Romanian.

"Thank you." Vladimir said, rushing past Francis and opening the door. He shut himself inside, and sighed with relief. Vladimir could hear Francis walk away.

The room was small, but there was everything Vladimir needed to function. There was a bed, bathroom, and television set. The molding on the ceilings was painted gold, the walls an off white that annoyed Vladimir. The nightstand and bedposts were mahogany, along with the door. The bathroom was full of fancy soaps that smelled funny. These was a shower that took up half the floor space and a towel rack full of plush white towels embroidered with the hotel's logo.

It was an hour past noon, yet the streets were full of tourists and locals all going about their normal everyday buisness. It was almost strange to him.

Vladimir thought of Agatha. He wondered what she was doing right now. Maybe she was enjoying her afternoon in a cafe or returant. Maybe she was sitting alone in her apartment, bored out of her mind. Vladimir like her, she was kind, but not afraid to speak her mind. He hoped Agatha was alright, not hacking into some government facility stealing information. Not being dragged out by policemen and interrogated with questions she can't answer. He considered texting her, but thought better of it.

The meeting would start with an introduction conference that night at seven, where half the people wouldn't attend, and the remainder would sit bored out of their minds as Ludwig droned on and on about what they were attempting to accomplish in the meeting. Key word attempting. Almost always they never got anything productive done. The next morning would be the main meeting. It would be scheduled for only a few hours, but usually that never happened. They would be delayed for some reason and it would go hours over time.

Vladimir wasn't sure he was mentally prepared for this.