Fading Scars

Chapter VII - Alana's Interrogation

We arrived at Ulcinj. I checked out the facade of the hotel from the window, the same one they had booked for the whole orchestra. No surprises this time.

Softly, he said, 'This is our little secret.'

I glanced at him, nodding with a mix of agreement and confusion. Why? That's what I wanted to ask. The explanation came right away.

'I'm a public figure, and we wouldn't want any unnecessary attention, right?'

'Right,' I replied with the silliest grin.

Stepping out of the car, held open by Reed's driver, I felt a bit disappointed as he stayed inside. But I understood, it was part of our 'little secret.' I waved, but the driver closed the door swiftly. Tinted windows hid him from view, and suddenly, our rendezvous felt dreamlike. A fantasy I wasn't ready to wake up from. The car rolled away, taking Michael Reed back into the realm of the unattainable.

I strolled into the hotel lobby, a far cry from the opulence of his corporate fortress.

After checking in, I was guided to my room. Instead of a towering structure, the hotel sprawled open with clusters of rooms, and a pool at its heart. The layout seemed like the hotel had been gently placed on terraces, each offering occasional glimpses of the serene Adriatic Sea. The view was breathtaking, just like a scene from a movie. Montenegro had this magical charm to it.

Ulcinj, the southernmost gem on the Montenegrin coast, was snug between the Adriatic Sea and Lake Shkodra. As I looked out from the hotel, the beach was practically at our doorstep. I could see boats gently anchored, people reveling in the late afternoon sun, and the beginning of a refreshing evening breeze. The town itself had an old-world charm with narrow winding streets, historic architecture, and vibrant local markets. The blend of the sea, the lake, and the picturesque town made it a perfect setting for a romantic escape. I couldn't help but feel like the protagonist in a coming-of-age romance film, discovering the beauty of a hidden coastal paradise.

I unpacked my bags, and Alana was nowhere to be found in the room.

Following the staff's guidance, I headed to the dinner spot, a laid-back self-service setup. With a plate in hand, I took a seat beside my bestie, whom I hadn't caught up with in ages—well, about three days, since the wonderful... Oops... fateful kidnapping.

"Hey, Alana."

"Hey??? Is that all you've got to say? Where were you? I told the teacher I had no clue about you. Thought you missed your flight."

"Oh, he knows," I replied with a fake sense of calm.

I considered sharing the truth with her—I was genuinely lost. My conscience urged me to spill the details. But Alana, being the perfectionist she is, wouldn't let me off the hook. Besides, it was a secret I couldn't spill.

"Sorry, it was all a bit rushed, but I made it. Here I am for the final rehearsals. To pamper you and for our first concert outside Lisbon," I said, grinning. It was effortless to forget about Michael Reed when Alana was around. We chatted about a thousand things, especially the concert. I asked if she had managed to tune one of the cello notes that wasn't cooperating. I also realized I hadn't rehearsed at all in these three days. The teacher called us, signaling it was time for rehearsal. Two days of practice in a concert hall nearby, and then back to Podgorica for the wonderful concert. Rehearsals would be attended by children, like a rehearsal-show, so to speak.

After dinner, we strolled back to the room, ready to dive into the juicy gossip. Alana spilled the beans about Manuel, our orchestra buddy she's always had a soft spot for. Alana and I, inseparable since kindergarten, owe our friendship to our parents' close ties. Forced or not, our bond was effortless, and we loved each other like sisters. Even my brother couldn't escape the green-eyed monster, and Alana's younger sister, always eager to tag along, did so with a touch of reluctance. We started our musical journey together, she with the cello and me with the violin. A friendship for life!