Seasons of Love || Richard Camacho

6

Time jump - March 25th

'Ello love, you awake?' I love British accents, honestly, but not when I am hungover and still very tired. 'I need to check out in a half an hour.' 'Alright lad, that's me off then. Was bloody nice to meet you. If ya ever back 'ere in Amsterdam, gimme a ring and we'll drink a pint together.' I mock his accent while getting dressed. I might actually not very accidentally steal a very nice looking hoodie when he's staring at me. 'Don't like the accent? Soz mate, 'ave fun flying back to England.' James, a man of very few words. Even at night. I actually did my very best last night, not a scream, no begging. It was a bit disappointing, really. I check my face in the elevator mirror. Smudged make-up, hair looking like it got stuck in a hair dryer, splendid. I steal a handful of mints at the frontdesk of the hotel, almost getting caught by the receptionist. Today is going to be a lovely day. The morning sun stings my eyes and I walk towards the city center. I need to freshen up and I need to do that before using public transport. In the first drugstore I walk past, I use some testers in the make-up section to make my face look like I did not go out last night. A-maz-ing. I check my phone while walking through the street and I drop it when I bump into someone. 'Oh shit.' I bow down to pick it up, but the person I just bumped into does the same thing, resulting in a not very soft headbutt. 'Ouch.' We say at the same time. I am done with life and I let myself fall on my bum. Sitting in the middle of the shopping street is something I have done before. But not during the day and definitely not sober. 'Lo siento, are you okay?' 'Lo what? I'm fine.' The boy-man whatever he might be, helps me up and hands me my phone. 'It's not broken.' 'Well thank fuck for that.' 'I am so so sorry, miss. Are you really okay?' I look up and look into warm brown eyes. Damn. Apparently, I am not very subtle. He gets a bit shy and adjusts his bandana that is covering his forehead. 'Yeah, I'm fine, no worries.' In the distance, I see a familiar face. Oh hell no. Mark. 'Okay, sorry I gotta go. Was lovely headbutting you, stay handsome, okay, bye.' I sprint into the nearest store, which happens to be a Jack&Jones. When I think I'm safe, I turn around and walk a few steps backwards to look if I see him passing by. And of course my clumsy ass bumps into another person and we both stumble back a bit. He grabs my shoulders to stop me from falling. 'Thank you.' My entire body struggles, but my brain wins and I ignore the incredibly gorgeous man and his bleached hair I just bumped into and run towards the back of the store. I hear the man muttering something like "guapa" or something and it's probably something mean but I don't care. An older man is about to step into the last free fitting room, but I manage to get in there before him. He shouldn't be shopping here anyways.