Just for Tonight

50.

She had found her own apartment, two blocks from his house, so Ville was able to finish his album in the studio and join her when she returned from her shift late at night.

That evening, she was out of shift. She waited anxiously for Ville to arrive. The table was ready for six. He would understand immediately. Maybe he would be angry with her, but she couldn't help it.

She heard him arrive and put his hand on the door handle. She took a deep breath and he entered, a broad smile on his face, which faded as he looked down at the table. He counted aloud: "two, four, six. Chlo?".

"They're coming," she murmured.

He frowned: "All of them?"

She nodded.

"Fine". He took off his jacket and cap. "It smells good, what did you prepare?". His face was unreadable.

"Something simple: pasta with tomato sauce. I also prepared a little aperitif and ...".

"Thanks, honey". He smiled at her.

They hadn't met each other since Seppo's funeral. They knocked on the door.

"Go and welcome them", she asked.

They hugged each other emotionally and Migé winked at Chloé.  Even Gas had come.

The meal was noisy, with everyone talking at once. They had some catching up to do. Gas and Linde were part of the same new group, and Burton had also found his way back to the stage.

Chloe listened quietly, a slight smile on her lips. She tried to engrave this moment in her memory. A perfect moment, a family reunited, and the man in her life happy. It was perfect, a fragment of time she wished would last forever.

After the meal, she got up slowly and clinked her cutlery against her glass. They looked at her in surprise.

"I'm not going to make a long speech, I hate that. If I asked you to come tonight, it's because ... he wouldn't have told you himself, but there you go. Ville's first solo album comes out next week".

She sat down quickly, avoiding Ville's gaze.

They applauded the news.

"Chloe...", Ville grumbled.

"I know. But even if HIM is gone, the ties must stay. In fact, we should get together more often, to celebrate victories, to carry each other". She lowered her head.

"Great idea!", Migé exclaimed. Everyone agreed.

Later that night, he took her in his arms. "Thank you, honey. Even Gas came!".

"Excuse me if it ... was none of my  business. But I couldn't help...I wanted to...". She sighed.

"I said 'thank you', Chlo. Nothing else". He smiled.

‐----

That evening, on her way home from the restaurant, she realized that once again she had forgotten to lock her front door.

She entered cautiously. Nothing seemed to have moved or been stolen. The telly was still there, and was probably the only thing of value she owned. However, a long shiver ran down her spine. She scanned the other rooms, all intact. Something was wrong and she didn't feel reassured.

She wrapped herself in a blanket and lay down on the sofa, waiting for Ville to return.

"Were you waiting for me?", he asked as he walked through the front door.

She smiled at him: "I'm independent up to a point. I only sleep well with you by my side".

"Here, you've got some mail", he observed.

It was an invitation to take part in a singing competition for semi-professionals. The principle was simple. Selected candidates would attend a singing contest for a period of three months. They were cut off from the outside world and housed in an old school. Each week, after learning their songs, working on vocal techniques and choreography, they performed on stage. The show was broadcast on television, and each week viewers eliminated the candidate they found least convincing that evening.

"How did ...? I didn't send in an application", Chloe gasped. "Semi-professional? But I can barely sing!".

"You've performed on stage with me, Chlo", Ville reminded her.

"One song, Ville. Just one song. And even so...I've never sent in an application for this show".

She looked at Ville intently. "Don't tell me that..."

"You deserve to be on stage. You deserve so much better...It's probably time for you to step into the light", he confessed.

She was speechless for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was dry and brittle.

"Again, you're not listening to me. I love my work. I'm running out of words to explain it to you".

"I'm trying to help you! I think it's so unfair that you can't do your job as a journalist anymore! Waitress, do you realize that?", Ville tried to defend himself.

Chloe paled : "I do, I even imagine that a rock star and a waitress, if it weren't such a cliché, would hurt your image... excuse me... not being a journalist or a model... or even a singer".

"I didn't say that, Chlo".

"If I'm not good enough for you, you know where the front door is...", she replied, pointing to the door.

"Stop, stop, Chloe", he begged.

She sat up and stared at her feet. He took a seat beside her.

"Look at me, honey", he demanded.

She looked up. "Ville, the only thing that got me up on stage and gave me joy in singing was you", she replied. "I want you to understand that. I'm not saying I'll never sing again, but it will only be with you. Sharing the stage with you was a moment that belonged only to us, in the madness of a tour. That's what made those moments so precious. The circumstances in which it happened".

"I'm afraid ... that if you don't value yourself more, you'll run away from me again. You know I'm going back on tour... you're going to find yourself alone here...".

"I have Migé not far away. I'll be all right. And I won't leave while you're away. I promise I won't. I'm not missing anything".

"Let's go to sleep and forget this whole thing," he concluded.