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Asher helped Roman unload his drum set from the back of the Escalade. They were on a private street that didn’t have public access from the main road, so they didn’t have to worry about being ambushed by fans or paparazzi.
They were at a local German instrument shop that specialized in tuning, maintaining and fixing drum sets. Roman took care of his drum set, but the wear and tear from being on tour and having it be in constant use made it time for a little tune-up.
“Easy,” he instructed Asher as he stepped out of the car with the snare interlocked around his arms. “Careful.”
“Will you stop whining?” Asher teased. “I know what I’m doing.”
“If you drop a single thing,” Roman warned, “You’re dead.”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Asher quipped with a grin. “I’m not going to drop any pieces.”
The guys walked into the shop together where they were greeted by an energetic worker wearing glasses and a determined smile. He spoke fluent English and was eager to take on the project. It would only take a couple of hours, assuring Asher and Roman that if they wanted to have lunch and come back, the drum set should be as good as new, polished and ready for playing.
Roman knew that because of their fame status, they were probably getting special treatment from the shop, but it was just another perk to appreciate. He dropped off the drum set and set across the street with Asher.
“I’m starving,” Asher mentioned. “All that heavy lifting made me hungry.” He rubbed his belly and gave Roman a grin.
Roman rolled his eyes. “You’re always hungry.”
“I am not,” Asher protested. “That shit is heavy. I don’t see how you can stand it.”
“I don’t,” Roman quipped with a grin as they waited for the pedestrian crosswalk sign to light up. “That’s what the tour crew is for.”
“Well anyway,” Asher said, shifting the subject into a slightly different direction. “Food, beer, pretty women. In that order for once.”
“Yeah, you have that mixed up from your normal. Beer first. Then chicks. Then food.”
Asher shrugged. They rounded a corner and headed to a building with a wooden sign hanging above its door. It had a picture of a beer mug and a pig on it. Universal for food and drink, maybe? They had time to kill to find out. Looking behind him, Roman noticed their security guard following a short distance behind them. The roads were quiet, no paparazzi or fans in sight.
Or, maybe they just got lucky to be on the street with respectable people who elected to give them personal space and privacy. It wasn’t that the guys couldn’t take care of themselves or defend themselves. The security was merely a fail-safe, a method to make sure peace ensued wherever the band members happened to venture.
“What are you in the mood to try around here?” Asher asked as they stood on the edge of the sidewalk after crossing it, attempting to get their bearings in a different city.
Roman glanced at his phone as a reference. “Heath at the drum shop mentioned a restaurant being right across the street.” He narrowed his eyes as he studied the screen. “I’m getting spotty service out here. Want to try this?” He motioned to the sign. Asher frowned.
“Let’s just walk a few blocks and see what we come across.”
Roman pushed his phone into his back pocket.
A couple of blocks up the street, they found a restaurant with a chalkboard stand outside, advertising hot and fresh Spatzle and Bratwurst.
Asher eyed Roman. “Sounds pretty legit to me man.”
“Let’s do this,” Roman chuckled, feeling pumped and ready to throw back a couple of draft beers. They walked inside where they were greeted by a friendly hostess wearing traditional Dirndl with suspenders.
She began talking to them in German, but when they expressed the need for English, she immediately switched over with a thick and heavy accent. She walked them to a booth in the back after their request. She didn’t appear to recognize them, but that was somewhat of a relief to Roman who preferred not to be bothered while he enjoyed a dine-in experience at a restaurant.
They settled into their seats, taking a menu each. Asher inspected the items on the list. “Well, the bad news is, everything is advertised in German. The good news is, at least there are pictures for some of this stuff.”
Roman laughed, bending over his own menu to determine what he should get. In the end, both guys opted to go the safe route, ordering the Spatzle and Bratwurst displayed on a chalkboard board on the sidewalk outside.
They ordered beers they couldn’t pronounce, fully confident that they would taste authentically German and delicious.
Roman leaned back in his seat, sagging against the booth cushions and yawned. He rubbed his bleary eyes that suddenly began to sting out of nowhere.
“I feel you dude.” Asher nodded with a sympathetic frown. “It’s probably safe to say that we are all feeling the effects of the constant travel.”
Roman drummed his fingertips against the surface of the booth table. It was a habit he picked up, always exhibiting the need to keep his hands busy.
“Yeah, I could crash for a while. If my head hit the pillow I would probably sleep for a long time,” he admitted. “I feel like I could use a month of sleep.”
“Same,” Asher nodded with a chuckle. “But as much as I complain about it, as soon as I get out there on the stage, my exhaustion disappears.”
Roman knew exactly what Asher was referring to. There was nothing that could ever compare to the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins as soon as he was sitting in front of a sea of thousands of people who adored him and his band members.
Asher chugged a healthy swallow of his beer, smacking his lips after and letting out a sigh of contentment. “That’s some damn good brew right there.”
Roman laughed. “How could we expect anything less, being in Germany?”
Asher raised his glass. “Let’s toast. To the rest of the tour.”
Roman clanked his glass against the side of Asher’s. A few drops of the amber liquid sloshed out of the glass and dribbled down the front. Roman gulped down half the glass, feeling suddenly sloppy and dysmorphic, but in a relishing way.
“So,” Asher began. “How are things going with the blonde?”
Roman’s eyebrows shot up expectantly. “You mean Chloe?”
“I like calling her The Blonde.” Asher’s eyes flashed with mischief.
“So, I guess we are dramatically shifting gears?” Roman pretended to shove an imaginary gear stick.
“Yeah,” Asher laughed and scratched the bridge of his nose. “I guess you could say that. I just want to live vicariously through someone else’s sex life.”
Roman scrunched his nose in disapproval. “Don’t go there.”
Asher leaned across the table, giving his buddy a light punch. “You know what I mean you asshole,” he chuckled.
“It’s going well I suppose.” Roman paused, abstractly nodding.
He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but he was afraid that if he discussed his blossoming relationship with Chloe, that somehow, he would ruin or taint it in some way.
He had never been in a serious relationship like this before. Not that he and Chloe had communicated their wishes for how to proceed. It was something that just had to come naturally. He didn’t want to put the filters on their relationship that society would be expecting. It wasn’t as if they needed to belt out terms and conditions like they were signing a formal contract.
“We are just having fun at the moment and seeing where it takes us,” he added. It was the most genuine response he could give to Asher about the depth he felt on the subject.
He was still processing his emotions, trying not to become overwhelmed while still achieving and maintaining a sense of balance and peace. Chloe was a wonderful, beautiful girl inside and out.
“I don’t want to jinx myself,” he laughed. He knew how ridiculous it sounded, but it was the truth.
“What do you mean?” Asher quizzed with a frown.
“I don’t know,” Roman shrugged and stabbed a crispy, round piece of bratwurst and forked it to his mouth. “It’s so new...”
Asher’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “You really like this one.”
Roman laughed, chewing as he shifted his weight. “Can you blame me?”
Asher shook his head. “No. She’s pretty hot. You know what they say right?”
“What?” Roman washed his food down with another gulp of beer.
“Blonde’s have more fun.”
“Yes. Yes, we do.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted a few seconds later before Roman had the chance to elaborate.
“Excuse me,” a pair of mousy women with thick accents approached the table.
“Stay back,” the security guard stepped in front of the women.
“No,” Roman waved them access. “It’s okay.” He was finished eating, so he didn’t mind a slice of attention. He glanced over at Asher to grant permission as well. “Are you good?”
Asher nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
The women weren’t necessarily what Roman would consider being attractive, but they seemed spontaneously brave and giddy to approach the two of them, so he had to give them the props.
“We heard you were in town,” one of them breathed. “We just can’t believe we happened to be in the restaurant at the same time as you.”
At least they weren’t stalkers. Coincidence earned the merit stripes for a picture.
“Come on over,” Roman roped them in.
The brunette lifted her camera, adjusting her angle until the four of them were in the selfie. She took three to ensure she would have at least one good one.
“Thank you so much,” she panted in a shaky voice as if the moment was still surreal in her mind.
“No problem at all,” Roman and Asher smiled as the women walked away, leaving them alone once again.
“Are you ready to get out of here and go get your drums?” Asher flung his napkin to the top of his plate. “I’m stuffed.”
“Me too,” Roman admitted, standing up to stretch. “That was fun and relaxing and all, but let’s get out of here. We still have sound check.”
They walked back across the street in the same direction they came from. Roman was the first to push through the door of the music shop. The same staff worker who had enthusiastically assisted them, in the beginning, was not there anymore.
“I’m Roman Davenport,” he explained to the receptionist at the front desk. “Heath was supposed to be tuning my drum set.”
“Oh right,” the dark-haired, slender woman chimed, pointing a finger adorned with black nail polish to the back of the shop. “He should be back there. You can go ahead though.”
Roman looked at Asher as they awkwardly stepped to the back of the shop feeling out of place.
“Heath?” Roman called out from behind a set of swing double doors.
Asher walked over to a keyboard and began tickling the ivory keys with his index and thumb fingers.
A few moments later, Heath emerged. “Hello!” He chimed with an exuberant grin. “It’s nice to see you again.” His English was remarkable, although it was slightly difficult to understand him through the heavy German accent.
“Are my drums ready to go?” Roman asked.
Health bowed with a professional nod. “Yes. They are tuned up quite nicely now. Would you care to take them for a test drive?”
Roman grinned at Asher who was listening to the conversation, but his hands were still slightly tapping the keyboard.
“I would love to.”
“Follow me,” Heath beckoned with a flick of his wrist in the direction behind the double doors.
Roman plucked a pair of black drumsticks from a table next to a kit of various wrenches, screws and other tools. He began pounding them against the side of the crash drum, the snare drum, then finally the kick drum below with his foot pedal.
He was satisfied with the work quality that had been put into the tuning job. “They sound amazing. Nice work.” He shook Heath’s hand, giving him a healthy tip.
Heath’s eyes widened as if he wasn’t expecting it. “Thank you so much.” He bowed again and clamped his hands together. “You can pay for the rest of the service with Darla up at the front reception desk.”
Roman paid with Darla, and then they carried the drum set back into the car. As soon as everything was safe and secure, Roman gave Asher a high five, climbing into the back seat together. “Let’s go rock out some vicious tunes at sound check dude.”
Asher beamed. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Roman mirrored the same enthusiasm but knew that as much as he wanted to pound on his newly tuned drum set, he would need to reserve most of his stored batches of energy for tonight’s adoring fans in the arena crowd.
And after that, for Chloe.