Dance, Sing, Love. Book 1 (english)

Chapter 5

That evening wasn't bad...It was a nightmare. Every hour, my patience for Sheridan decreased. I showed him all the most important places in Rome, including the Colosseum, the Pantheon and the Trevi fountain. If only it was showing these places and told it would not have been as bad. But no, it was not. Everywhere we went, there were thousands of people, as it was tourist season, so it was understandable.

However, this annoying person whom I was forced to walk around with in the heat, in addition to being hellishly tired, behaved like a Casanova. Yes exactly. He was incognito but everywhere we went, he was chatting with beautiful girls he encountered on the way. He had a different hair color, nose sunglasses on his nose, and faked a Scottish accent so no one would recognize him. I wasn't surprised. Because what girl would suspect that this strange guy in the city center among the crowds was a pop star in camouflage? Every girl Sheridan approached and flirted with was beautiful. It didn't matter whether she was an Italian, Briton, an Asian or a Muslim. Not even the hijab was an obstacle for him. All were undeniably beautiful, with a perfect figure and face as though taken from the cover of the magazine.

He flirts with others. So what? I had nothing against it. I realized that I wasn't a typical beauty. After long workouts and exercise, I had muscles in my legs, arms or back. But most importantly, I didn't want to flirt with this idiot. It was the last thing I wanted. Because of these above reasons, I do not really mind that he flirted with someone. But, damn it, not when I started to talk about the history of Rome or the place where we were. He usually interrupted me or ignored me. But that wasn't the best part. Sheridan spoke English and French, and when he went to an Italian woman who knew neither English or French I had to translate. .. Yes, exactly, hell yes! I stood next to Sheridan and his newfound friend and I translated even more spicy sentences.

We moved on to a different place, and I had just enough time to say a few sentences before he found a new "victim". He didn't need much time. Maybe he had some radar for potential models. Then I struggled in the heat of the sun and waited until Sheridan got tired of his new victim, which usually lasted about half an hour. Then they exchanged numbers, he promised to call her, which of course he never did. He threw away the number as soon as we walked away. Sometimes I had a chance to find a bench and sit down for a moment.

And so on until late evening around 10 p.m, when I was still walking around with him. I was tired as hell. My feet were in pain and every step made me even more miserable. Fortunately, I had used the sunscreen so that I wouldn't end up with sun burns too. My belly rumbled for three hours after only eating a cereal bar I had taken from the hotel. I finished off my water earlier, and I had to buy another bottle, which wasn't surprising in such heat. I felt as if the whole the time, from the time the sun went down, the temperature oscillated between 40 degrees. When the sun went down the temperature dropped to 28, but it was awfully stuffy. I wasn't accustomed to such a climate.

I sat on a bench in the square of Campo de 'Fiori and muttered silent curses at Sheridan. He was standing a few meters away from me and said something to the small, pretty blond Australian. He talked to her for a good forty minutes. The clock on the tower showed 10 p.m.

The square was surrounded by picturesque houses and palaces, where a backdrop of colorful stalls with fruit, beautiful flowers and fresh fish. In the distance, I saw a group of men sharpening knives. All vendors loudly praised their merchandise and encouraged people to check out their stands. I pulled my phone and headphones out of my bag. I had several missed calls from Lena and Kathy. Kathy sent me several text messages inquiring where I was and how my date with Sheridan was. She wrote that I was probably enjoying it since I'd been gone from the hotel so long. I rolled my eyes and I put on the headphones. I wasn't going to write back because I would probably end up replying that she was frivolous. I turned on a music playlist, and the first song that came on was Bon Jovi's 'You give love a bad name'. It was a nice change to listen to good old rock music instead of pop. Sheridan was a good singer. He had musical talent. I couldn't deny that, but listening to his songs all day long made me sick. My foot involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of a song. I began quietly humming the chorus with John Bon Jovi when suddenly someone ripped out my earphones. At first, I thought it was a pickpocket. There are so many of them in Rome.