C Minor // R5

Exhausted in Amsterdam

After Paris, we're all pretty tired, but we still have to go to Amsterdam, England and Ireland. The first stop is Amsterdam, then Ireland, then England. I'm extremely excited to go to Amsterdam. I've always wanted to go. We're in the tour bus, all hanging out waiting to get there.

Luckily, no one else got sick, other than Rocky who lost his voice, but was still able to play.

So we enter the hotel in Amsterdam and we all check in. Once again, I will be putting my things in Ross' room and sleeping in Rydel's. As odd as it is to Ellington, it's just what Ross and I want to do.

Or, what I want to do. I'm pretty sure it's what Ross wants too.

Anyways, Ross hasn't been talking today. Like, at all. It's kinda like he's sad. I'm going to try to get to the bottom of it when we're alone in the hotel room.

So when we get up there, I unlock the door and we step in. Ross starts to unpack and I put my suitcase at the end of the bed, take my shoes off and sit on the sofa.

"Ross. Are you okay?" I ask. He shrugs. "Ross." I say again. He looks at me, obviously trying to hide the fact that something's wrong. "Ross what's wrong?" I ask. He goes back to packing. "Are you mad at me or something?" I ask, a little fed up that he's ignoring me. Ross sighs and comes and sits with me.

"I'm sick, Nina. I don't think I'm going to be able to perform tomorrow." He says. I hug him. It must be hard for singers and performers to have so many obstacles they must face. I can tell Ross' voice sounds muted and scratchy.

"Well. Maybe it's a twenty-four hour thing. Like Delly." I say.

"No." He says. "Trust me, it's not. I'm not throwing up, but I'm loosing my voice, I have a cough and my throat hurts. Plus I'm super hot." He says. I smile sadly at him and put my hand on his cheek to see if he has a temperature.

News flash: He does.

"Well, I run out and get you some medicine and we'll see how you are tomorrow."

"I should come with you." He says.

"No. You should sleep." I say.

"But you don't know the city." Ross says.

"Neither do you." I say. "I'll just go with Riker." Ross nods and I kiss his cheek and leave. But I don't go with Riker. I have a different friend to go with. It's named my phone.

I mean how hard could it really be to find a drug store in Amsterdam?