The Paris of Our Dreams

By Tomás Costa

With a world-renowned band and the freedom to live his life as he pleases—on the edge—young Eric Meirelles has it all. An endless supply of drugs, groupies, and money. What more could a rockstar want? The problem is, the Eric Meirelles he shows the world is make-believe. And when he meets the girl of his dreams, he’ll have to decide who he wants to be.
The daughter of French aristocrats, Marie Montini is beautiful, artistic, and meant for better things. Like Eric, she longs to be herself but feels compelled to play her part. Their meeting may be the stuff of magic, but Eric’s dark addictions and violent past could prove too much to bear. He has the strength to save Marie, but who can save him?
They’ll need to call on family, friends, and every connection they possibly can to build a brighter future and generate art for the ages . . .
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Anxiety, self-sabotage, insomnia, and desperation: sickly proves the underside of what may seem the life of Riley. Costa here delivers darksome party scenes fiction at its best. Replete with addiction, redemption, and love, The Paris of Our Dreams achieves a stunning balance of rock ‘n’ roll excess and scintillating soul.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tomás Costa
• Release date: Sep 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9791069998995

Book preview

PART I

Chapter 1

It could be said that this party had gotten out of control, but the truth is, for this crowd, it was only getting started. What could Marie have done? Honestly, not much. The number of people had decreased while the consumption of alcohol and drugs increased, and it was still quite early. Sophie was already blind-drunk and so were several people whom Eric didn’t even know. The important thing was that his three bandmates were there, each one naturally with a hot girl (or two) by their side. They were drinking, true, but they weren’t drunk. They were actually in the sober area of the party, as unusual as this was.

There were several couples making out in the living room and every imaginable place around the house and the gardens. Luckily for them, it was a huge place. Unfortunately for the owner of the house, it was a fancy estate that was inevitably getting trashed by a bunch of French youngsters.

People were everywhere, some already lying down on the couches, someone having less of a good time in one of the bathrooms. There were people in the yard and in the bedrooms. The place was a whirlwind of misplaced furniture, empty bottles, broken glasses, spilled libations, and people drunkenly dancing to the incredibly loud music that was playing.

Eric had learned to see beauty in that years ago.

Marie wasn’t enjoying the mess people were making in her aunt’s house, but she never seemed uncomfortable or surprised. She knew how it was.

Marie and Eric were trying to go to one of the bedrooms for some more privacy, but the only thing they found was a couple having sex. They tried another room, but as soon as they started to make out again, they were bothered by knocks at the door and people laughing. People knocked again, laughing, screaming obscenities as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Eric simply opened the door, stared at them, and the crowd quickly dissipated, afraid of him. As soon as Eric and Marie had taken off their shirts (and God how happy he was when he finally took her shirt off) Fernando appeared, marching through the door, holding Sophie in his arms, completely drunk. He literally dumped her onto the bed by their side—the bed where Eric had been imagining all the nice things he’d soon be doing with Marie, the girl with the fiery hair. Marie sighed, shook her head, and stood up, getting dressed. Eric put his head on the bed and looked at the ceiling, frustrated.

Sophie was a mess. She was complaining about everything and only stopped after a few minutes to run to the bathroom to puke. Eric tried to keep it cool as he quietly stood up and put his shirt back on, trying to maintain his patience with the ridiculous situation he had no idea how he had gotten himself into. Once she got near the bed again, Marie sat beside her friend while Eric and Fernando sat against the wall in front of them.

Sophie was now drunkenly laughing and saying random, disconnected things. They all listened to her garbled words sympathetically—except for Eric. Marie’s face even looked like she was in pain with her friend, which was not something Eric would expect. After all, she was just drunk. Maybe she should feel pain for the people who have to be around that pretentious, girl, Eric thought.

Eric just wanted to have sex with Marie, by far one of the most gorgeous girls he had ever seen, but he would’ve never stood for that situation if she wasn’t such a good friend of Tom. That’s the only reason why he was still in that room being patient with these people he barely knew.

A few moments later, Sophie started to cry. A lot. Probably over some guy or low self-esteem. Eric and Fernando looked at each other and took deep breaths, Fernando even rolling his eyes over the situation, in a gesture of pure masculine complicity. They actually didn’t know each other. Eric didn’t even know Fernando’s name at that point. He didn’t care either. He would be gone in a couple of days anyway.

As for Sophie, it was, indeed, about a guy. She started talking about him while crying at the same time, creating a very pathetic scene. In her lost words, sobbing like a baby, she said she hadn’t forgotten him even though she knew he was a jerk. She still wanted him and didn’t care about humiliating herself for him . . . again. Oh, that’s promising, Eric thought. Eventually, she reached the phase of trying to get her phone and call people (or the guy) but was promptly stopped by Marie, who actually gave a shit about her friend not humiliating herself for said guy. Surprisingly, Sophie spat poisonous words at her caring friend even before Marie was done talking:

Yeah right. As you don’t feel the same way about Philipe. Should we call him, Marie?

The atmosphere in the room immediately got tense—as if Marie, Fernando, and even Sophie had held their breath while Sophie said that. Marie quickly left the room, hurt, after swearing to Sophie a couple of times in French. Fernando stayed in the room, looked at Eric, and tried giving him a brilliant piece of advice. If I were you, I’d go after Marie, man.

Eric once again took a deep breath, trying to stay cool about it. But he was getting really tired of this whole situation. As he started to walk toward the door, Fernando asked him what he should do about Sophie. That’s when Eric realized how young and inexperienced the guy was.

Put her in the bed. Give her water—a lot of water—but only when she stops running to the toilet. Then, try coffee at some point. And some bread. If she gets worse, call Marie. Good luck. Eric said, thinking he would never have to deal with this girl again.

Fernando agreed with everything.

Eric went after Marie and found her on the first floor, drinking wine by herself in the kitchen.

At that moment, a guy was walking toward Marie in the cockiest pose possible, to which she said with her finger raised, Nah, nah. Keep walking buddy and pointed in the other direction.

What? The guy didn’t understand how she was rejecting him like that.

You heard her, bro, Eric said, as he not so gently pushed the guy away from the kitchen. Marie looked at Eric and just gave him a quick smirk as she kept drinking.

Hey . . .

Eric gave her a quick smile. Marie put her glass down and said, I’m sorry about all of that. I guess your night hasn’t been that fun, huh?

Oh no. You’d be surprised. Eric smiled, and Marie looked at him to see if he was being ironic or not.

She eventually smiled too. "Great. I told Tom I’d give you a hand here while you’re in town, and you’re the one helping me taking care of my drunk stupid friend . . ."

Oh, Don’t worry. I won’t tell him. Eric smiled

Marie smiled again and nodded. God, she was gorgeous.

She drank some more, and finally asked, frustrated, You know what time is it?

No idea . . .

Marie smile. "It’s midnight. And she’s already passed out drunk upstairs because of a jerk that doesn’t deserve her. And you know the worst part? It’s the same shit almost every weekend. Sometimes even during the week, and that’s always fun, right? I miss Tom. I miss having people around who aren’t . . . Ugh . . ."

You know what? Forget them. Eric was talking about everyone at the party. Get the wine, and let’s go outside, hmm?

She shrugged her shoulders and followed him, with the bottle in her hand.

They left the kitchen, passed through the living room, which was packed with people, and ended up sitting beside the pool, away from the noise and the intoxicated guests. They spent some time there, talking about silly and unimportant things, though in a very sincere way.

It’s also for these kinds of moments that we live.

When it started to get cold, Eric gave her his jacket.

After a while, a guy sat near them, looking at the moon, talking and smiling with an unmistakable facial expression: He was totally tripping on something. He tried talking to Eric and Marie about things that only tripping people could follow and soon lost interest in them and disappeared into the garden.

They kept looking at the water and its greenish color, with all the lights of the night reflected on its surface. The reflections were creating a very nice atmosphere, with the big yard surrounding them and the comfortable chairs nearby.

It was a nice house and some really nice company.

They kept talking for what seemed like an eternity, both laughing in turn, until a miracle happened. Life seemed to have started—as if something just clicked—and Eric took a nice deep breath in a way he hadn’t done in ages. He felt alive and awake. Somehow, he felt connected to this girl, who he barely knew.

He was in Paris once again, and that had so many different meanings to him.

Marie ended up putting her head on Eric’s lap. Her red hair smelled incredibly good. So, how are you enjoying Paris so far? she asked.

Oh, I love it here . . .

Really? That’s great to hear. First time? I guess not, right?

Yeah, no, not at all. But I always enjoy coming here.

Cool, cool. And where are you from again?

Hmm. Where I live you mean? Technically, San Francisco.

Cool. Never been there, but I’ve heard it’s nice.

Yeah . . . not the worst city to live.

Is that the first time I’ve asked you this? She smiled.

Hmm. Where I am from? No, you asked me that like twice before. You always think I’m from Montreal because—

Of Tom. Right, right. She smiled.

Yeah. And maybe because I have a slight Quebecois accent when I speak French. He smirked at her.

Ha, yeah . . . maybe. So, you learned French in Montreal?

I actually lived in Paris for a few years when I was a kid.

Oh, really? Interesting. So, I guess you met Tom when you were living in Montreal?

No. I started to go to Montreal more often because of Tom, and eventually, I think I’ve spent . . . hmm . . . I guess it was around three months living there with him. But, yeah, at that point I already knew Tom.

"Ah, ok

"What about you? How did you meet him?"

Hmm. My older sister is close friends with Katherine. One of the last times they were here together, I got really close to Tom. But that was a couple of years ago. Maybe more. Do you know Katherine too, by the way?

Oh, yeah. I know her. Eric smirked

Ha. What was that smirk for?

Oh, nothing. Well, I mean, Katherine is something . . . special, right? Unique woman.

Yeah but . . . Hey! You never told me how you met Tom in the first place. Then, you can explain to me what you meant about Katherine. She smiled.

Hmm. Well, it’s a work-related thing as you probably already realized, right? He was one of the guys that really helped to start our career. I guess I owe him a lot. And he’s turned out to be a great friend over these last few years.

Oh. I see. He’s such a great guy.

He is. So, you were telling me this is your aunt’s house?

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

That’s a freakin nice house.

I know . . . She smiled in a very gracious way.

Wow, you really, really like your aunt, hmm?

She smiled at him. Wow. Is that obvious?

Pretty much, yeah.

Yeah. I guess she’s, like, my favorite person in the world. And she’s so much fun too. And . . . well, fun is something that’s lacking in my family sometimes, you know? We’ve always been really close.

Hmmm. I see.

What I mean is . . . She smiled. And the same goes for Tom. He sees the best in people. And he was like . . . an angel to me, because I met him at a very difficult moment in my life. He helped me to realize a lot . . . about who I am and who I want to become. And when I shared all of that with my aunt . . . I knew she would understand. And she did. So much has changed since then.

You’re happier. He was looking at her.

Yeah. She nodded and smiled.

But not quite there yet.

She gave him a big smile as if she was making fun of herself. Well, as my not-so-good drunk friend probably made you realize, there were some bumps on the road since then. I guess there’s still some stuff I wish I could handle better. Then, she looked at the house.

Eric, for the first time that night, realized that she wasn’t at all enjoying having all those people in her aunt’s house. I see . . . Well, I wish you the best of luck with that.

Thanks.

He cleared his throat. So, when did you start listening to our music?

Hmm. I don’t know, all my friends are pretty much your fans. But I can proudly say I listened to you waaay before them. She laughed as if it was the coolest joke ever. Tom always recommended your music to me. Maybe even before that, I already knew your band. Yeah, I don’t quite remember. I think I was pretty impressed when Tom told me he knew you . . . or maybe it was after. Dude, I’m sorry, I really don’t remember.

They sort of laughed.

I see. You know, it’s like the tenth time I’ve come to Paris after meeting Tom. I wonder why he never introduced us before. We were even in Paris together a couple of times.

Hmm. Good question. Well, I guess it could be weird for him to try and introduce their two best friends? And you know how Tom is. Maybe he thought we were in two way different moments in our lives. I know I was . . . I mean, from everyone else I knew . . . Also, you don’t have the best reputation, mister. With this, she giggled and winked at Eric, who shrugged his shoulders as if saying It is what it is.

I don’t think I asked you before: how did you like our concert?

"Oh, that was amazing. Seriously. You guys really make the crowd go crazy, you know that?"

He smiled. We try . . .

No, for real. You guys’ energy is something out of this world. Man, that must be so cool. Being on a stage like that. Traveling around, partying around. She paused. Then having to take care of the drunk friend of a friend of a friend. She smiled. Best three days in Paris ever, right?

Not bad, not bad. At least I have a good story to tell. They’re important too, you know.

Right. Good to know, she said and smirked.

What about you? Having fun?

Yeah . . . She wasn’t convincing.

Hmm. Away from . . . He meant the noise in the house.

Oh. Yeah. It gets a bit overwhelming sometimes.

So. Here, right now, at least, a bit of a good time? He smiled.

Yeah.

Cool, so my mission here is complete.

She tilted her head back and smiled. She sat again and kissed him.

They stayed in silence for a moment.

Don’t you love these light reflections in the water? she eventually asked.

Yeah, it creates a really nice atmosphere here.

Yeah. Wow, look at the moon.

They started looking at the moon, which probably wasn’t as fascinating as it had been to the guy who had joined them before, but they were also smiling in an unmistakable way. They kissed some more, and then the conversation got lighter, helping Marie to forget the mess that was happening inside her aunt’s house. Marie was an affectionate girl with a gracious smile, and Eric was having a really good time with her. Tom’s best friend is definitely something special, he decided.

Even without realizing it, they were both very much present in that moment, not wishing to be anywhere else in the world. They were finally in a place that was giving them some peace of mind.

But only the place.

Chapter 2

Minutes later, Fernando found them by the side of the pool and sort of killed the magical moment. He said that Sophie hadn’t gotten better but left the room and went back to the party.

Eric noticed that, even though there were many people who knew this girl, only the three of them were actually looking after Sophie. To be fair, though, at that point, no one else was in any condition to look after anyone.

Why was Eric still there?

When they finally found Sophie again, she basically jumped into Marie’s arms and tried to say a thousand things at once, which didn’t make sense at all, but the essence is that she was sorry for what she had said.

No problem, Sophie . . .

You know I love you, right?

Fuck, thought Eric. The I-love-you type of drunk. At least now she was back in the room.

Yeah, Sophie. I know . . .

She suddenly got very, very sad and looked down at the ground.

You know. We think booze is water, and it isn’t. She started to giggle as if it had been extremely funny.

Ah. Shut up, Sophie.

Ah . . .

I’m serious. Shut up. Now you’ll try to sleep, all right? No more alcohol for you.

Okay. It’s just because I’m not feeling very well, and every time I try lying down . . . She never finished the sentence. She disappeared into the toilet, making ungodly noises.

Did she drink any water?

Fernando nodded.

How many times did she puke already?

Like . . . twice before this one. I don’t know how she can still do it.

Ok, just pray that she doesn’t puke anymore after this.

I’m gonna go check on her.

I’m gonna go grab some more water, said Fernando.

Okay, try to get a chocolate or something. I think I saw some in the kitchen before.

Fernando went to pick those things up and Eric stayed alone in the room listening to Marie and Sophie in the bathroom.

Hey . . . I saw you guys kissing.

Wow. Really? Marie was very unimpressed.

Isn‘t he awesome? Isn‘t all of this awesome? My friend is making out with a rockstar. I was making out with his friend before too . . .

Yep, so awesome. Marie was being sarcastic, of course.

But . . . what about Philipe, Marie? You’re not afraid that he’s going to hear about this?

Marie didn’t answer. She felt hurt every time she heard that name. Once, it was her who was crying on Sophie’s lap for Philipe, and now she wouldn’t let her forget him when it was the only thing she really wanted to do: forget. The fact that Sophie and Philipe were in the same social circle didn’t help the situation. Marie realized Eric was probably able to hear their conversation, so she didn’t say anything more revealing that could possibly push him away. She helped her friend go lie down in bed, though Sophie kept talking and complaining.

Eric turned off all the excess lights in the room and just left one side light on. Not that he cared, though. He definitely wasn’t doing that for Sophie. The sooner she was out the better. Hey, I’m gonna go talk to my friends downstairs, okay? I’ll give you girls some time.

Sure, sure. Don’t worry.

He went downstairs and actually felt annoyed by the packed living room. It wasn’t that late, and he knew that the party would be raging for some time. His friends, unbelievably, were the best-behaved people at the whole party. They were in a separate room, near the gardens, playing pool and drinking by themselves with some hot girls they’d picked up after the concert.

Eric! You’re alive! How dare you abandon your stupid American friends and leave them with the French? Mike was smiling, referring to the fact that only Eric knew how to speak French in their group.

Hey. Yeah, sorry. I was kinda busy taking care of a drunk teenager.

Oh, that’s sick, man. You shouldn’t abuse these innocent girls while they’re drunk, said Liam, trying to be funny.

Nah, he’s still with that redhead, right, Eric? Tom’s friend?

Wow . . . seriously?

I know right . . .

They laughed and congratulated him on the accomplishment.

I told you he would be faster than Mike, Jack. You owe me money now.

Eric smiled and jokingly said, Hey, dude, half of it is mine. That was the deal.

They laughed.

They ended up changing subjects several times and talking about a lot of nonsense. It’s not as if Eric was feeling eager to get back into the bedroom to take care of a drunk that he actually never liked in the first place—even if that would decrease his chances of getting laid that night.

Marie eventually joined them there. As she walked into the room, she smiled at everyone and just put her arms around Eric. She privately said to Eric, She’s out and flashed him a lovely smile. Eric nodded and returned a quick smile. He didn’t care, but he was glad to see her in higher spirits.

Eric and Marie got into the pool championship that would take a couple of hours to finish. Someone brought more food and drinks, so they didn’t have to keep going inside of the house, and Mike and Jack ultimately won the games. After that, people clearly started to get a bit tired. The guests were starting to leave, and their group was lying down on couches and the alcohol started to affect even Marie, who had only been sipping throughout the night. But apparently, she didn’t have much of a tolerance . . . proving adorably tipsy.

It was after 3 a.m. when the house started to get quiet. Even though it was early, they practically kicked everyone out. They’d had about enough of those people and told them about an after-party at this underground club near Les Marais that was going to be open until six, which was enough to get some people to leave. The band, Marie and Fernando said they were going but only to get people to leave.

The few people that stayed helped to clean the house a bit, which wasn’t as easy or fast as they thought it would be. No one was pleased with the idea of doing that in the middle of the night—and the band certainly wasn’t used to pitching in with this kind of thing. But everyone held Tom in high esteem, so there weren’t any complaints. When they were finished (it wasn’t really that clean, but at least the worst of it had been taken care of), the guys from the band left with some girls to go back to the hotel where they were staying, and Eric decided he would stay with Marie because . . . well, this was quite obvious.

At 5, they were lying down, and Marie went to sleep in Eric’s arms. Nothing more happened. Surprisingly, at that point, Eric didn’t care: He felt like he could really use some sleep, and Marie was exhausted.

As he was staring at the ceiling, Eric had a sudden thought about the next day. He figured that Marie would enjoy coming along with them:

London.

Chapter 3

Eric felt a very strong connection to Paris. Not its romantic version: its raw, cold, beautiful, and dirty one. It felt like home more than many other places where he had lived, and he enjoyed going there with his band whenever he was able to.

Otherwise, though, Eric had a constant need for movement. They had been in Paris for . . . longer than usual. He could’ve stayed a couple of days more to enjoy Paris with Marie, but the truth is, Lucy, an old friend from London, had been insisting for a while now that they go meet with her. She had this birthday party planned, which apparently was going to be unforgettable, and was inviting every cool person she knew. And she knew a lot of cool people. Just like that, changing all of his plans a few days in advance (they’d been thinking about going to Berlin for a friend’s band’s concert the day after), he felt the need to pack and just go to London to have some fun—maybe just for the pleasure of being able to do it. At that point, he actually wanted Marie to go with him, and couldn’t understand why. Maybe it was for the sex—which they still hadn’t had—or maybe because he did like her company and the way she was connected to his life. After all, these days, good company wasn’t so easy to find.

Marie woke up and noticed that Eric wasn’t beside her anymore. She got out of bed, brushed her teeth, and washed her face, trying to wake up. Then, she went to check on Sophie. Her friend was still completely passed out, with her makeup all over the sheets and pillow. She went downstairs, and no one seemed to be around, so she started to clean a bit more while she was making herself some coffee. A few minutes went by, and she finally saw Eric sitting beside the pool, lost in his thoughts, with his feet in the water. She smiled and went outside to talk to him.

Morning.

Hey, Marie.

Did you sleep well?

Not bad, you?

Kinda, yeah. Have you been awake for long?

He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a quick smile.

Hmm. So . . . what were you doing? Marie asked.

I got hungry. Then, I got lost on my phone. Then, I had to charge it. It seemed like a good idea to come and sit by the pool while I wait. Nice weather. I felt like enjoying it a bit.

Cool. Well, I checked on Sophie again. She’s still completely passed out.

Yeah, hopefully, she’ll be very peaceful until she wakes up.

Marie smiled and nodded.

Do you want me to make you some breakfast? Eric asked, and she actually looked surprised by the offer.

Hmm. Sure. Shouldn’t I be the one to offer it, though? Marie thought it was funny that he had offered.

Eric smiled. No comment.

All right. Let’s do it . . .

Before standing up, Eric splashed Marie with water, and she tried to run away from it, laughing.

Eric started to prepare a real banquet. Because of the noise they were making while having fun cooking or perhaps because of the smell of the food, Fernando, and Cécile; Marie’s friends that had stayed the night, eventually appeared downstairs.

Morning.

Morning.

Wow, that’s a lot of food.

During the brunch, they started talking about the party, recapping everything that had happened to everyone. Eric had no idea who they were talking about. Apparently, there had been a lot of drama, and Cécile and even Fernando were very excited to share it. Eric did notice, however, that Marie was trying to look interested in that conversation. Cécile took a picture of the food and the table once it was ready, and Eric felt that she had casually made him (and everyone else to be fair, but hey, he wasn’t her friend) part of the picture.

When the conversation got lighter and less gossipy, it actually became quite a fun talk, and everyone was laughing a lot. Eric and Marie were still enjoying the weird intimacy that they had acquired in the last couple of days, and as they were eating, talking some more, even washing the dishes and finishing the cleaning of the house, they had a lot of fun together.

They ended up going to the side of the pool again because it was a really nice day, not that cold, considering winter was not far. Marie lent her computer to Eric so he could check a few things. It was all sunny, funny, and light until Sophie appeared, mute and completely pale. Probably dizzy, sore, and with the sickness and the I want to die feeling that the majority of us get pretty used to at some point in life. Nothing very pleasant. To make the situation worse, her hair was a complete mess, she had huge black circles under her eyes, and leftover makeup smeared on her face—whatever had survived her tears and the pillow faceplant. She stunk of alcohol, cigarettes, pot, and vomit. She slowly sat down near them, in the shade, with her eyes barely opened because of the sun.

Silence reigned, with shy awkward looks being exchanged between them because no one wanted to be the first to say a word to her. Naturally, they all talked at the same time.

Hey, I’ll go grab you some sunglasses.

And I’ll go get some water and aspirin.

Yeah, in a sec . . .

Just like that, Eric and Sophie were alone in the same space. They actually didn’t want to look at or talk to each other, especially Eric who had no idea what to say, because from personal experience he knew there was nothing you could possibly enjoy listening to in this situation. But hey, she was younger.

There’s some food and coffee left. It might make you feel better.

Sophie shrugged her shoulders, completely ignoring what Eric had just said. She decided to light a cigarette and become the picture of a stereotypical moody Parisian girl—hangover and all.

There you go. He had tried to be nice and it didn’t work. He focused again on what he was doing. He didn’t remember Tom saying anything about this girl, anyways. Tom had actually told him to get Marie away from some of her friends. She’s probably one of them, Eric thought. She definitely should be one of them. Eric couldn’t imagine Tom liking her.

One by one, the other three came back with the things they had promised, including a bit of food, and no one wanted to say anything until the hangover herself said, So . . . what’s up for today?

Silence

Hmm. Nothing.

Yeah. Nothing.

Actually, yeah, I have some plans, said Eric.

They all looked at Eric, and he just kept staring back at them for a second. Out of nowhere, he realized he barely knew these people. Maybe he should’ve waited to talk to Marie in private? Didn’t matter.

Hmm. I was just wondering if you guys would like to go to London this weekend. I have a pretty nice party I have to go to that apparently is going to be insane.

They were surprised.

Do what?

Yeah, you know, London. We could have some fun. I have this friend that’s having her birthday party, and it’ll be big . . .

Ah, I don’t think so. My parents would kill me if I ever did something like that.

Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal at all. How old are you again?

Twenty-one.

Well, I’m nineteen.

So, what’s the big deal? Eric said. You guys are all overage.

I have a bunch of stuff for school . . .

I have a brunch planned this Sunday . . .

They were all very afraid of saying something, but it got soon became clear that they really did want to go. They were all looking at each other.

We can go to London, walk around, and have some dinner. We have this party. Then, we go to the hotel, and the next day, we’ll see what we can do. Tomorrow night, you guys will be home.

I have school Monday morning.

So what? It’s barely Saturday yet. Eric smiled.

Marie graciously smiled, as she couldn’t quite believe they were doing that. She got really excited about the idea. "Well, you guys can think for a bit. I’ll call my friends and get everything ready to go to London. Jeez, guys. It’s London. One-hour flight. A couple of hours by train, right? Eric said.

Can you just go like that? Marie asked Eric. You don’t have anything else planned in Paris?

Eric smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Richard, his manager, would be furious. He knew that. But he knew his schedule was pretty chill because he had specifically said he wanted some time in Paris, months ago. He had also already mentioned Lucy’s party, so he was aware it was a possibility. They could easily go to London and meet him somewhere else in a couple of days. No. Should be all good, he finally answered. I’ll go make a couple of calls. My phone is charging inside. I’ll be right back.

He then got the small card from his wallet that bore the hotel’s phone number. Room 809, please . . . Okay.

It rang a couple of times.

Ahn . . . hello?

Mike?

Eric? Mike seemed to be completely destroyed.

Dude, I’ll be back at the hotel at midday. Don’t be late. Grab your stuff for a couple of days, okay? I talked to Lucy about her party . . .

"Hmm . . .What? Wait, what? I thought we were going to Berlin tomorrow. Where are we going, Eric? He wasn’t really awake.

I want to go to London—to Lucy’s party. She’s been pretty convincing, and I figured we could just go today and have some fun, you know. Don’t you think?

Hmm. He took a second to consider. London . . . Yeah, why not? Lucy’s fun. Sure sure. He yawned. Have you talked to Richard already?

"Hmm. You know how it goes. I told him about this party last week, but I don’t think he’s gonna be very happy anyways. I think everything is settled to go to Berlin tomorrow.

They smiled.

Okay, well, can you do me a favor and also contact Lucy? said Eric.

Yeah, yeah, no problem. I’ll send her a message, Mike replied.

Midday, huh?

All right, Mom. Anything else?

"Not really. You guys have time to have a nice breakfast and call a cab. See if the girls want to come. The four from here are going too.

Hmm. Okay, okay. Sure. You really liked Marie, hmm?

Yeah . . . she’s very nice, Mike.

Silence.

Michael?

What?

You’re still not up.

Ah, sorry, Mom. Next time, call me fifteen minutes before to—

Eric hung up on him and smirked. He would do that sometimes to annoy Mike.

When he got back to the pool, Marie had a big smile on her face. So, when are we leaving?

Eric gave her a big smile. You have some clothes here, don’t you? he said, pointing to the house.

Yeah, some . . .

Eric smiled and pushed Marie into the pool, and Fernando pushed Cécile. They ended up also taking their clothes off and jumping into the pool in their underwear. They would have to dry them after.

It didn’t matter. They were going to London.

Chapter 4

After everyone got out of their shower, Marie’s aunt opened the front door and found almost all of them chilling in the living room. They were getting ready to leave soon, and she caught them off-guard. She was kind of surprised to see people there, herself, but surely happy. She probably thought her house would be clean and empty at that point.

She was in her early forties, maybe late forties. She had long, dark hair, and green eyes. She was quite tall—beautiful, with a really nice physique. Clearly, she worked out. She was very nice and open but made everyone stop what they were doing to talk to her so she could ask things— especially about the party, what they would be doing that day, and so on.

They tried to change the subject at some point, which she clearly noticed, but she recognized Eric and said, Hey! I went to a concert of yours!

Eric smiled. Really? You liked it?

Beatrice—Marie’s aunt—smiled very gently. Of course, dear. Then, she turned her head to Marie. Where were you guys going in such a rush? she asked once again. She saw that