The Reckless Collision

Sam.

~~~

The morning started still in Belgium, the scent of freshly baked waffles filling the air as we gathered for breakfast. They were crisp on the outside, soft inside, and almost too heavy to be breakfast food. After eating, we packed up and hit the road for Germany. The show in Frankfurt was set to start in ten hours, and with a four-hour drive from Brussels ahead, the countdown had begun.

Touring wasn't what I thought it would be. Sure, the guys had warned me about the chaos, the tight schedules, and the constant presence of people, but I'd thought they were exaggerating. They weren't. Being with seven other people, twenty-four-seven, was harder than I imagined, but I'd found ways to carve out moments of solitude, even in a crowded bus.

My bunk became my sanctuary. I'd retreat there with a book—one I was nearly finished with—or scribble down thoughts that sometimes turned into short stories. Writing was my way of escaping, even for just a little while. During the drives, the guys usually had music playing, and I discovered a handful of new artists through them. It felt like a small silver lining.

The band, on the other hand, was always working. Writing songs, rehearsing, planning—they were already talking about finishing their third album after this tour, which would lead to even more traveling. It amazed me how this had been their life for years.

Since we'd only be in Germany for a day, I decided to explore Frankfurt on my own. Ray had suggested I explore Belgium when we were there, but I'd declined. The merch shop had been swamped, and I wanted to help out. This time, though, the crowds would be smaller, and I was ready for some me-time. So, I left the guys at the club to handle concert prep and set off.

I wasn't much of a planner like Ray, but I had a few places in mind. First on my list was the Main Tower. Seeing it in person was breathtaking—it wasn't just tall; it was massive, soaring nearly eight hundred feet into the sky. From the observation deck, I could see the city stretched out below me, a mix of skyscrapers and historic buildings dotting the skyline. The air was cooler and crisper up there, and for an hour, I just soaked in the view, snapping a few photos along the way.

By the time I came back down, hunger had set in. I found a restaurant in the tower's building and decided to try Potato Dumplings out of sheer curiosity. While waiting for my food, my mind wandered, but my phone's buzz jolted me back. Scott's name flashed on the screen, and my stomach clenched. I hesitated for a second before answering.

"Scott, hi," I said, my voice steady despite the nerves creeping in.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, his tone chipper.

"Nothing much. You?" I replied, leaning back in my chair.

"I met a girl," he announced. "We're going out tonight on a date."

"Really?" I asked, surprised but trying to sound casual. "That's great, Scott."

Just then, the server brought my food. I nodded a quick thanks and murmured, "Thank you," before returning to the conversation.

"What?" Scott asked, confused.

"I'm in a restaurant. My food just arrived," I explained, taking a tentative bite of the dumpling.

"So, where are you now?" he asked, the curiosity in his voice unmistakable.

"Still in Paris," I lied smoothly, finishing my bite before answering.

"Do you like it there?"

"Yeah, it's great so far," I said, hoping he wouldn't press further.

"And how's the boy front?" he teased with a chuckle.