Played like a Guitar

Chapter 10 : The Reunion

"Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don't fool."  
  - Robert Brault

Chapter painting: "Book Store" by Paul Shulenberg.

***

I woke up super nervous that day with a fair share of second thoughts, knowing well our encounters tend to be rather unpredictable, wondering if an additional one could possibly make things even worse. What if he avoids talking to me, or calls security to kick my ass out for stalking him?

"Relax, you can do this. You need to. It's for your own good." - I convinced my reflection in the mirror, wearing a dark grey cardigan, informal white shirt and slim jeans. You'd think I embraced the Italian over-the-top chic by now, but I felt most confident in casual wear. My typical fashion statement: dress up to feel good in your own skin, but nothing too extravagant to stand out from the crowd. It was just a small book gathering after all, and I had no one to impress (major question mark).

Securing a seat for his book tour was fairly easy, only requiring to be one of the first people to sign up online. I was lucky enough to have seen the poster before they even opened the bookstore. But was it really luck though, or destiny? I chuckled at the mirror at the silly thought. Before leaving my studio, I checked the address once again in the email I received after booking a seat online, only to find out the presentation was not taking place in the library we passed by with Leo, but another one from the same company a few metro stations away. I didn't plan on taking the metro so there was no way I could possibly arrive on time. 

I grabbed all my essentials and ran out the front door towards the station but stopped halfway there, breathless, realizing it was dumb of me to rush. It's not like he knew I was coming anyways. Once you're late, might as well take your time, right? My luck was yet again challenged when the train I was supposed to catch arrived ten minutes later, which barely ever happened. Even though my pride protested, I couldn't help but feel anxious. I was both nervous and slightly excited, wondering how he'll react upon reuniting with the one who almost kissed him before he proposed to his girlfriend, but also scared I might miss the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity the universe planned for us. I flipped open his book of poems which I bought a few days ago, analyzing them for the millionth time, one by one. They were both beautiful and mysterious, resembling his persona. Delicately written, personal and honest. They covered a spectrum of topics, from falling in love and losing someone, to depression and nature's wonders. It was a true insight into his mind, or a glimpse of it at least. One of them, titled 'Under the Stars', felt oddly familiar, as if I experienced the same scenery and thoughts once. I was convinced it was inspired by the night we spent together, but maybe he shared it with Valentina instead, his new fiancée. What's the deal with the two of them, anyways? From all the rumors I heard (unwillingly), they attended some public events and shows together but weren't spotted much outside of them.

I pushed my way out of the metro in a fast pace, worried that he'd be gone before I even got there. I was unsure of the bookstore's whereabouts, but a bunch of thirsty fans standing in front of an age-old dark brown building gave me a hunch. They consisted mostly of teenage girls pushing each other to catch a glimpse of him through the window. I barely managed to squeeze through the front door entrance alive, showing my ticket to the security guard as dozens of jealous eyes silently cursed me. Before entering the second door, I stopped to take a deep breath. "Chin up, straighten your back, look confident. You can do this." - I inhaled, closing my eyes for just a second before entering the library.

It was a spacious room with two floors and tall wooden bookshelves on both sides, rows of cheap folding chairs in the middle and a slightly elevated stage on the opposite end with two comfortable sofas. I was greeted by his soft voice and Irish accent while trying to find a place to sit but all the front seats were already occupied. Not wishing to attract his attention as he was in the middle of the interview with the store manager, I stood awkwardly at the back of the room. It was him, Jamie O'Dea, in the flesh.