Chapter 21

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Georg remarked, "Well, we better get going then," and unlocked the vehicle. After Gustav and I entered through the rear, Tom went to the passenger side door and opened it, bending down to take a seat. Georg turned to face us. "You think you still remember where she lives?" He asked. "I will always remember it," I answered. He turned on the ignition and said, "Enjoy the ride."

As he drove through the vibrant streets of Berlin, the city came alive with a kaleidoscope of lights. Tall office buildings stood proudly, their glass facades reflecting the night sky and the twinkling city lights. The sight was nothing short of breathtaking, a mesmerizing display of urban beauty.

The wind danced through the streets, carrying with it the energy and excitement of the city. It gently brushed against my skin, bringing a refreshing sensation that invigorated my senses. The air had a distinctive scent, a unique blend of bustling city life, aromatic street food, and a hint of crispness in the night air.

I stood up, shouting out "How I've missed you Germany!" My arms wide open like I was giving Germany a big hug. "Woohoo!" Gustav shouted out, standing up beside me. We laughed, as we blasted music on the radio. Gazing below, I saw Tom's arm resting on the armrest situated between the front and passenger seats. Putting his fingers to his lips, he silently reminisced.

As we continued driving, the rhythm of the city pulsed around me. The sound of car horns, laughter, and snippets of conversation filled the air, creating a symphony of urban sounds. It was a symphony that spoke of life, diversity, and the vibrant spirit of Germany.

I felt a deep appreciation for the vibrant energy that surrounded me. The tall office buildings reaching towards the sky, the reflection of lights shimmering on their surfaces, Gustav and I shouted out and the wind carrying the essence of the city—all combined to create an unforgettable experience.

-GEORG'S POV-

Glancing over at Bill and Gustav, who had dozed out in the back seat, I adjusted the mirror. "They've fallen asleep" I said, glancing at Tom. He answered, "They've had a long day." It was ironic. If anyone had a long day, it was him. If anyone suffered the most, it was him. If anyone deserved to be angry, shout, and curse the world... it was him. Yet, he was the most collected man out of all of us.

Tom did everything the same way he walked, talked, drove, and breathed. Steady and controlled, with an undercurrent of danger declaring that crossing him would be their death sentence to anyone stupid enough to consider doing so. However, he knew when to be gregarious, willing, and charismatic.

He knew how to be both charming and forceful at the same time, making him the perfect businessman. But he appeared to have broken. He never showed emotion, preferring to let his inner monologue speak for itself. But he revealed a side of himself tonight that left us all perplexed. Surprisingly, he didn't set fire to the place the moment Bill dismissed him. "How was the sex?" I asked casually. 

His gaze flickered to me for a brief moment before returning to the road, not one hair on his body moving. "I don't remember that being any of your business," he answered, his voice sounding cold. "Will we be seeing her often?" I chuckled.

"I have no use for women except for sexual pleasure." He answered calmly.  "But why her?" I turned to face him and asked. He spoke the word "hormones" in a bored tone.

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-BILL'S POV-

I was startled awake when the car came to a sudden stop. I rubbed my eyes and got up. "Are we here?"  Weary, I asked. "Yes," Tom said, opening the car door. I gave Gustav a shake and muttered, "Wake up, we're here." He sat up stretching as he awoke. "We're already here?"

"Yeah," I replied, opening the car door. I opened the door and turned to face the house I had longed for years. I stood outside my home. After a long time, I was back at the house where I wrote songs, grew up, and slept, literally a few feet away. The house was illuminated from within. Tom turned to face me and waited for me, asking, "Well?"

Approaching the door, I was hesitant to knock. Am I ready? prepared to speak with my mother after so many years? Indeed, Tom was right. Was it worthwhile to reopen old wounds? Maybe not, but I had to assume the possibility. I inhaled deeply before knocking on the door. "Coming!" A muffled female voice spoke softly. I stare at Tom, whose expression is stern and unwavering.

Behind the door, a little figure was seen. "May I help you?" A woman said, perplexedly glancing at us. I took a step back, realizing that this wasn't our mother. "H-hi... Is Simone home? I asked nervously. The woman answered, raising an eyebrow, "No..."

"Wrong house, sorry for bothering you" Tom responded, "Come on, Bill," he said and started to head for the car.

"Wait!" Her hand went up as she spoke. "One year ago, Simone passed away," she muttered. I spun around "W-what." I spoke in a broken voice. Gazing down at her feet, the mysterious woman remarked, "She fell ill and didn't make it."

"I see," I shot back, a sour taste in my mouth. "What kind of relationship did you have with her, if I may ask?" Glancing across at us, she spoke. "We..."

"She was a friend" Tom interrupted. "I see" she replied, suspiciously. From within the house, a screeching sound echoed. "Oh, the teas ready!" The lady said, turning around towards the kitchen. She suddenly stopped, turning back around. "May I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Oh, no. We shouldn't intrude" I said, nervously. "I insist! A friend of Simone is a friend of mine" she said, moving aside.

I turned to look at Tom. He nodded, taking a step forward. "Alright," I said, walking inside. "Take a seat over by the living room," she said, smiling. "I hope you like pineapple tea," she said, pouring the tea. I looked around, the house felt different. It wasn't the same as I had imagined. But how could it not be? This house belonged to someone else.

One by one she handed Tom and the guys a cup of tea. "My name is Greta, by the way," she said, handing me a cup of tea. "A pleasure" I replied, taking the tea. "So elegantly spoken," she said, giggling. I chuckled nervously, setting the cup of tea down. "Greta, may I ask you a question?"

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